At the end of our great-uncle’s funeral, our great-aunt stopped the pallbearers as they carried him out of church. She fell upon the casket, trying to reach with her frail arms all the way around it and wailing like one whose own life was ending. All five of us, my brother and sister and both cousins, watched from the front pew, entirely untouched by devastating loss. Our parents and grandparents went to our aunt and surrounded her and held her up when her legs could no longer bear her weight.
We looked at each other. What would happen next? And what would we ourselves be called upon to do? Our favorite aunt, howling with uncontainable grief, resembled no human being we had ever seen.
When the next-youngest child coughed to disguise a laugh, the rest of us collapsed between the pews. We huddled together on the board floor and buried our faces in our arms, strangled by swallowed laughter.