At first I didn’t even notice, accustomed
as I was to being mired in apathy.
Someone told me it would happen - months or was it years ago- “Someday
the sun will shine for you again.”
I certainly didn’t believe them – how could
they know what they were talking about?
Their only son hadn’t died as mine had.
If I were ever going to laugh again I’d have laughed at them. No, the sun would never shine for me
again. I’d just live quiet, stay out of
people’s way. Certainly no one wanted to
hear about it. My presence seemed to
make others nervous, like “it” might be catching. My silence made them uncomfortable.
I’d resumed a routine, such as it was –
some days I worked like fury pushing myself far beyond my physical endurance. Some days I never left the sofa. Just lay “like a beached whale,” my husband
said.
The days passed. I got by.
I like it this way, it was peaceful.
Nothing “happened.” No more
dreaded experiences this way. So, I’d
just live out my life like this – stay out of people’s way. Out of sight, out of mind. I wouldn’t “bother” people anymore.
The days passed, I didn’t know which one
was which anymore. It didn’t matter anyway.
I had no where to go ~
Once in a while I’d make a half-hearted
stab at the flower bed when my husband threatened to contact the “Save the
Whales” people for assistance, but that was about it. My contribution to self-preservation.
When the fruits of my labor made an
appearance I hardly noticed. I just didn’t care. What good are flowers without sunshine and
the sun wasn’t going to shine for me again – ever!
Then one day, in my state of repose,
something got in my eye – at first I didn’t notice, just got irritated. Then with a shock so great it made my heart
pound, I realized that the sun had begun to shine. Funny I hadn’t noticed it before – I’d lain
here in my usual spot on the sofa for months now, or was it years.” And nothing like this had happened – but
there it was, sure as shootin’. The sun
really was shining!
I got up to investigate and found to my
surprise that the bulbs I’d planted months ago or was it years – had multiplied
and were blooming in multi-colored profusion.
They looked nice. In fact, they
were downright glorious. With another
shock I found that the sun felt good. I
felt good, like fining a long lost friend.
The grass smelled damp and fresh and wonderful. And as I bent to admire this small wonder I’d
created in the flower bed I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the flowers’ faces
as I was struck by the similarity of these, God’s creations, which had needed
my meager care to bring them to completion, and the blessing of God’s other
creation, the radiantly beautiful child that had lived on this earth, played on
this very grass and had spring forth in life without my help.
I knelt down there in the sunshine and gently
caressed the flowers’ faces and knew that I had pushed aside the image of my
child’s face too long. I knew then as
long as flowers bloom he will go on living. I felt the sunshine that day and saw it and acknowledged it and reveled
in it for I knew my child was not dead, that I’d see him whenever I looked at a
flower or heard a bird sing and one day, when the time was right, I’d see him
again in another place, a place beyond where the sun shines. A place where buttercups grow just to tickle
the noses of little children squealing with glee. And I’ll be there, in God’s Garden, on bended
knees, planting and cultivating just so I can see.
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