It's a chill evening in December 1978, and I'm sitting quietly in the second row of a Bucks County funeral home. My grandmother, my father's mother and the matriarch of our family, has died.

A formidable woman, barely 5 feet tall, Nanoi held her priorities dear. Chief among them were order and cleanliness, quiet and discipline.Her home, where we often gathered for Sunday dinners, birthdays and holiday celebrations, was always immaculate. Furniture gleamed, doilies were pristine and starched, the leaves on each carefully tended houseplant shone.It was a home where tradition reigned supreme, down to reciting grace in her native Swedish before meals. I loved the place, and I loved her.Then why was I, surrounded by my grieving family, struggling to stifle unbidden giggles?Grief is a funny thing, sometimes.Dr. Alex Lickerman wrote in a 2011 issue of Psychology Today that laughing when one is experiencing trauma or devastating loss could be a self-protective psychological mechanism, diminishing the immediate suffering and signaling to oneself that we will survive the trauma.While some people might find themselves fighting the compulsion to laugh, others react to grief with angry outbursts, lashing out at a police officer who breaks the news of a loved one's murder, or at emergency crews.Some people appear to not react at all. They deal with their grief without showing any external emotions. This reaction often draws suspicion. People tend to conclude, perhaps wrongly, that he or she just didn't much care for the person who died.Each person handles grief differently. Some wail and sob. Others shed their tears in private. Some act out in ways deemed inappropriate, such as the widow or widower who suddenly engages in self-destructive behavior.People each take their own avenues in the journey of coming to grips with the finality of death, and the aching loss that follows.Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross believed there are five stages of grief.The first stage is to deny the reality, a defense mechanism that temporarily blunts the shock. The second phase, anger, begins as reality sets in. Grief-stricken people lash out at anyone and anything. The need to combat the sense of loss of control fuels the third stage, bargaining. Often called the "if only" stage, the grieving person sets up scenarios in which the loved one does not die. If only I hadn't allowed him to drive to the game. If only the doctors had done tests sooner. If only I had paid more attention.The fourth stage, depression, settles in as the mourner begins to understand the finality of the loss. The fifth stage, acceptance, brings the ability to move on, cherishing the memories while letting go of the anguish.Sadly, it's a stage not every grieving person will be able to reach.I've long since gone through those stages, in my own time, at my own pace, grieving a series of losses. I pray that those who have lost loved ones will be able to do the same.