I am reasonably functional. A casual cataloging of my behavior will not reveal gross dysfunction. But I cannot laugh. I make do with what I have and get along. I cope. A sharp cry of delight, a quick derisive whoop followed by a blow to the knee or a clap gets me by in most situations. Or I’ll say that’s so funny! or what a scream! while neither laughing or screaming, suffering the deep shame of being a writer, taught to show–not tell–yet who must tell what I cannot show. 

Sometimes though, when I pause and observe you people laughing I think perhaps I’m lucky. Have you seen yourselves, your heaving, contracting diaphragms, your heads lolling back with your grimacing mouths spraying coffee and crumbs? I’ve even seen it to where your knees buckle and you slump against furniture or trees. And what’s this about tears trickling down your legs? How does it all go for you?

Still, it seems like a boatload of fun.

Cruelest of all perhaps: one might think such a limitation could have its upsides, such as an extraordinary ability to maintain one’s composure. But no. When others suffer humiliation or embarrassment, when a preacher preaches earnestly on modesty with his zipper open, when a tight-fisted steward of God’s money drops his $7 coffee, when one who thinks herself literate fumbles a word out of her league–I am instantly reduced to a writhing facial contortionist grappling with what never happens under normal circumstances: laughter. 

“Just try it, Dad!” my children say. I oblige with a whinnying bray and they collapse in delight. How can you not laugh, they ask. That I do not know, I say. 

So I’ve made my way through life, getting along the best I can. Around me people laugh and giggle, roar and chuckle. Strangers watch me uneasily. A little too good for us, buddy?

I have a secret fantasy list of laughs. 

The Partier

This laugh is the window rattling bust-out, the full body haw-haw guffaw of a reveler. Our entire social galaxy orbits this lubricating, energizing sun of a laugh. This laugh rings forth at consistent intervals if the food is good and the fun is up. Every good fire ring circle, or birthday picnic table includes that person whose laughter carries the fun and joy. 

The Villain

This is the nasty cackle when one’s enemies trip and fall, or a high one is brought low. You hear it when a jerk gets schooled, when what went around came around. It is both nasal and deep throated, and the timing, when executed perfectly, is a hit of the sugar of justice served.

The Counselor

This is the melodic, soothing chuckle that radiates understanding and empathy. Come, it says, you are heard. Let it all out and be healed. It is supported by both slow nodding and gentle shaking of the counselor’s head.

The Gamer

This is the rapid, liquid, staccato burst of giggling from those at the fringes. Delayed maturity, odd mannerisms and obsessive interests define its practitioners. Hang around the night shift staff at a lonely gas station and you’ll hear it. This laugh would not be my first choice but I would not be choosey. 

The Acrobat

This laugh expresses the entire range of human emotion. It it a rolling laugh, often rising before the punch line, jumping in volume and tone as the user gets the full import of the humor, changing yet again as he contributes his commentary. The laugh flows even through talk, rising and falling and wrapping the words with a third dimension of richness and meaning. I can only imagine a life with this laugh.

My laughless life may account for my preferred choice of communicative medium: texting or messaging. Because when its funny I got my little yellow faces to laugh for me. Bing bing bing I line them up with their blue tears busting down over their fat cheeks. I can snicker, hoot, bellow and giggle with your best. Thank you, Jesus, for Verizon and emojis. 

And when we’ve crossed over, when all will be made right and the blind have eyes, the deaf ears, and the maimed are running circles in joy, listen for distant laughter. Turn and look for a lone figure standing on the silver shores with his head thrown back, laughing, laughing, laughing. That will be me.