Sunshine On My Shoulders
It was 2004 and I was attending my new husband’s church for the first time. I was nervous.
This wasn’t just any first visit. My husband was on his way to Iraq with his USMC Reserve Unit. I was meeting the people who promised him they would be my support while he was gone. I had moved eight hours north to live in his town, leaving my support systems and family. These people were going to be my community for the next year while he was gone.
As I met people, shook hands, and tried to remember names a lady came up to me, gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear the most beautiful words anyone could have said to me. She said, “I know what you are going through. My husband was in Desert Storm and has been deployed twice.”
That was all she said but it was enough to calm my fears and make me feel like I just might be okay. That was my first introduction to someone who became like a big sister to me that year. She had a beautiful family that enveloped me as one of their own.
My Marine husband and I decided to start a family immediately in case he didn’t make it home from Iraq. It was a stressful year. We didn’t have much contact. I never knew when he would make it to a base and would be able to call me, or send me a letter, or use the satellite phone.
Men in his platoon were killed. There were days I had to remind myself to breathe.
I didn’t know how I was going to keep up with everything I had to do. The house itself needed upkeep; the yard needed to be seen to. The snow needed to be shoveled. Some days life just felt so overwhelming.
Through that time, my friend Kathy would come over and bring her caring kids. They were so quick to jump up and help in any way I needed. The conversations with Kathy and her kids kept me going in ways I can never repay. They didn’t just help me with projects; they made me feel like they wanted to be there, and they wanted to help me. Her family saw me through that year every step of the way. They gave me hope with each encounter.
Even after the darkest night, the sun comes up. Spring finally came, and with it the hope of my husband’s return, and the birth of our firstborn.
When the daffodils started blooming in her yard Kathy began bringing me bright bouquets in mason jars. Every visit brought those beautiful flowers. They covered her yard like a giant yellow carpet. The first time she brought them it felt like spring came to my heart.
The John Denver song “Sunshine On My Shoulder” replayed in my mind as I felt the spark of hope again. Kathy continued to bring me daffodils until the last one was gone from her yard.
Kathy and her husband Jeff were the only people that I wanted to visit us in the hospital when our son was born. Kathy wouldn’t have missed coming for anything. She came in, hugged me, and held my baby, telling me what a good job I had done, and encouraged me to listen to my intuition when I hesitantly asked her questions about something that was bothering me. She instilled confidence and lavished encouragement in every interaction.
Time has a way of changing things. Those moments we wish we could hold on to begin to live in our memories and come out to visit only when we make time for them.
Two years after my oldest son was born, I gave birth to my second son. This time Kathy wasn’t there to share my joy and pride. Kathy’s memorial service was held the day after I came home from the hospital. That day, adjusting to being home with my two-year-old and my newborn, the tears fell as I quietly said good-bye to someone I couldn’t imagine being without.
It was just a few weeks later when I saw the first of my daffodils poke their heads out of the ground to remind me that hope was still alive.
Fifteen years later my life looked quite different. I was a divorced, single mom of two boys moving into my first place alone. The grief came in waves, in ways that I wasn’t expecting. My mom had some daffodil bulbs and she asked if I wanted some. Of course, the answer was yes!
Daffodils will always be a part of every place I live because of all they symbolize to me.
They are sunshine on my shoulder, reminding me that there is hope for the future no matter what that future looks like. They are Kathy reminding me that I am loved and cared for and treasured for who I am. Daffodils will always have a special place in my heart. Every time I notice a daffodil I take a minute to thank God for the sunshine on my shoulder, and the hope in my heart, then I say hello to the big sister looking down on me, sending me a hug through a bouquet of yellow flowers.
