I had the pleasure of talking briefly about my angel today to one of my doctors, who also happens to be a dear friend. I’d gone to see him after a week of suffering a terrible cough I was convinced had turned to fatal pneumonia. Turns out it was a virus with some bronchial irritation, and I will live, but I got to chat with him nonetheless, which I always enjoy,
He was telling me he had just made a slight faux pas with another patient who recently lost her husband. “I told her the sun will shine again.” With that he kind of giggled and we talked about the current cloudy day and simultaneous solar eclipse.
But it’s true, I told him. The sun will shine again. I believe I am proof of that.
Two years ago, all I could manage was my grief. After just months since losing my only son at age three, I was lost, broken, abandoned on an island where I thought no one would ever find me.
Today, I thought, leaving his office, my mind swims at the end of every day with all the tasks and responsibilities I somehow seem to manage. I am managing a high dollar account at my job as well as multiple employees. I manage a household and a marriage and (sometimes) a wild three-year-old. I’ve somehow managed to maintain some friendships with those who’ve continued to love me despite my flaws and faults and insanity. And I’m managing to survive. I am managing to survive this life without my beautiful baby. Because he is in Heaven, and I am his mama, and that keeps me going.
I am not perfect. I am mostly a mess. And I screw up multiple times every single day. But my wonderful, kind-hearted, well-meaning doctor was so right in his message to that grieving widow toady. The sun will shine again. We will all manage to get through whatever raging, violent, terrible storm decides to trash our doorstep. If we just have faith that we are stronger than that storm and our sweet departed angels are right there with us, safely keeping the wind and lightening at bay. We can all weather the storm and find our sunshine.