I Can Laugh Again is all about love. It's truly an evocative story about love's essential and enduring qualities. Chloe Taylor Brown bares her soul-her dreams, hopes, losses, pains, and gains-in a riveting account you cannot read without taking part yourself in her transformation. The impetus for the narrative involves the tragic death of her nearly four-year-old son, Justin; but Justin's life is just the stepping stone, if you will, upon which she reminisces throughout her life's journey, blazing a path from rural Mississippi to the highest strata of the world of fashion. In the end, as we've shared her passage from heartbreak to triumph, she gives us a glimpse of heaven. My long-time friend Chloe paints a vivid and easily recognizable map to finding a practical faith. No matter the obstacles, in the end she assures us that we can trust a Power greater than ourselves to get us through, with more grace than we ever imagined. You'll find yourself immersed in more than one love story: a mother's abiding love for her children; Chloé's undying love for her husband, Rick, and his deep love for her; their constant love for their children and their families; and the outpouring of love from their spiritual family all over the world. Above all, there is the prevailing Power of God's redeeming Love. I encourage you, dear reader, to accept the priceless, immeasurable, and timeless gift of reading this book. It is my prayer that you will encounter the universal language of the heart, which this memoir brings so poignantly to the surface. You'll surely gain a new appreciation for the simple values that make life worth living. Enough said by me. Go ahead and trust your heart: Discover and rediscover the unending Power of Love. I Can Laugh Again From the Valley of Grief to a Glimpse of Heaven By Chloé Taylor Brown, Janis Hunt Johnson AuthorHouse Copyright © 2015 Chloe Taylor Brown All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-5049-2783-3 Contents Dedication, vii, Foreword, xi, Introduction, xiii, Chapter 1 Justin, 1, Chapter 2 Marital Bliss, 9, Chapter 3 Baby Boy, 22, Chapter 4 He's a Fighter, 25, Chapter 5 Special, 29, Chapter 6 Pulling Through, 36, Chapter 7 Got Game Today, 49, Chapter 8 Summertime, 74, Chapter 9 Praying for a Miracle, 97, Chapter 10 Momma, 99, Chapter 11 Anywhere But Here, 110, Chapter 12 Love on Reserve, 114, Chapter 13 Visitation, 121, Chapter 14 Restoration, 132, Chapter 15 I Know Something, 144, Epilogue Especially For Chloé and Rick, 153, CHAPTER 1 Justin I heard the happy chirping of birds through our bedroom window. It was delightful, like birds in love singing to each other. If only I could sing, I thought, I' d sing love songs to my husband. And even though I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket if my life depended upon it, the thought intrigued me. Rick wasn't home, though — he had slipped out of bed early and taken the children to breakfast. A contented smile crossed my lips when I realized they weren't there. My husband knew me well. I was pleased to have the house to myself. It was Sunday, the day before Labor Day. Our family had had a wonderful, exhilarating summer, and had actually been a part of history by going to many of the events and celebrations for the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympic Games. However, all of this was behind us now and there were only three more days of real summer left before school would start again. "I want these days to be calm and peaceful," I had told Rick the night before. "I just need a little bit of R and R before school starts." I loved the quiet house and the stillness of the early morning. My thoughts could escape clearly, resounding through the air, yet always finding their way back to me, larger, more complete. I had been accused many times by quite a number of people of being an idealist, as though it was a character flaw which needed fixing. Yes, I was full of dreams and hopes, and I allowed my ideas and thoughts to induce wonderful spiritual highs. This morning's backdrop was perfect. I had been enraptured by the bright sunlight coming through the bedroom windows, and drawn into the charm of the singing birds, which made beautiful background music for my meditation. I craved this state of mind and didn't want anything to interfere with my flow, but feeling dehydrated I desperately needed something to drink. I forced myself up from the bed, Walk softly, I told myself, as I walked down the long hallway to the kitchen, trying not to interrupt the flow. I was really taking advantage of my time alone. I made myself a pot of Earl Grey tea, and feeling special, I poured it into the silver teapot Jade and Taylor had gotten me the previous Mother's Day. Use your Spode teacup and saucer, my subconscious whispered. What's the point of having fine china if you never use it ? I took out the teacup and saucer, placed them on the breakfast tray along with the silver teapot and several packets of sugar, and quickly returned to