The dinner table roars with laughter each night. A loud wheeze erupts from my dad’s lungs as he tells the tales of today’s work adventures. His laugh is the air dryers you go through when exiting a car wash.

My mom has a soft giggle that makes my dog’s tail wag. It is a refreshing breeze on a hot day. She laughs about stories of our pets dancing in the backyard.

A strong laugh—loud enough for heads to turn—bounces out of my vocal chords. It is the power of winds before a storm. The kind of laugh that interrupts your own story by sound waves of pure happiness.