Our family language of wisecracks and one-liners had been our way of keeping us all from panicking, to distract us from the truth that we were scared out of our minds. We used humor as a kind of Band-Aid, to keep the fear and anger from infecting us. But wounds also need fresh air and sunlight to heal, and we still weren’t ready to sit down as a group and thoughtfully consider what was happening. We were simply in survival mode.
