Sunshine

Today, even though it’s fifteen degrees below zero, the sun is shining brightly outside my office window. It’s a proven fact that we feel much better on sunny days. Maybe it’s because we can feel the sun’s warm rays on our faces, no matter the ambient temperature. Maybe it’s because it’s just brighter outside on sunny days. Doom and gloom are always portrayed in some stage of darkness, hope and happiness in a stage of light. But the sun does more than warm us or light us—it tells us when to get up and when to go to bed. We often think of heaven as being high in the sky, above the hovering clouds where the sunshine is unimpeded all the time. We use it as an analogy for happier times, and we have written numerous songs and texts about it.

As I watch my wife suffer with her lingering illness, and I think of all the sunny days we had together in life, I can’t help but think of the words to an oldie but goodie called “You Are My Sunshine.” Yes, how many times have we sung, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”

So many people vision old age as a time when the sun shines perpetually, and we lounge on sun-drenched beaches, with all of our cares and troubles behind us. But then something like this comes along, and our hearts grow heavy because that happiness—that sunshine—that you worked so hard for, and shared so willingly for so long, is threatened, as is your whole way of life. It shows you how fragile life and happiness really is. How much we take for granted—that sunshine in our lives.

One of the things that happens when you are seriously ill is that treatment and doctor visits bring you both together, with many other people, who are suffering just like you are. You can’t ignore it because it’s all around you and the deep feelings that are so prevalent are so infectious. It encompasses you and you feel their pain and their suffering up front, and see it in their sad, longing eyes. You sense the fear that has crept into their lives and their hearts; and they no longer seem like the strangers to you they once were, but brothers and sisters of the disease, reaching out to each other in a time of need. You can almost feel the prayers and hopes they have—for more time to get it right—dear God, at least for a while, you pray.

As caregivers, friends and family, you pray to be strong—not necessarily just for you, but also for her or him, so you can bring back some sunshine into their troubled lives. So you can be that pillar of strength that they, your friends and family, need so much at a time like this. But, try as you may, sometimes the tears and grief take over, and you look anywhere you can for that ray of sunshine that will make it all better. I have, in my travels, talked to many people who have lost a loved one. For a while, it’s hard and words don’t come easy. But gradually, all the sunshine they brought into your life trumps the grief that came along, and brightens your day once more. We take the good that comes from those who we loved and emulate it into our lives and it makes us far better people. It’s their way of giving back some goodness and a little sunshine.  Now it’s up to us to keep that sun shining, like they did for us. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”