Mimi's Wishing Well

As many of you know from reading this blog, when I need peace and comfort I often go out into nature. And, nature never fails to put this whole world into perspective. This Sunday was no exception.

Sunday morning my 5-year-old niece, Eliana, and I got up early to go for a sunrise hike down by Lake Michigan. We were walking south along the bike path that parallels the lake as the sun started to peek over the water. If you have never watched a sunrise before, you may be surprised to learn that the sun doesn't slowly work its way up. It actually happens very quickly. In fact, you can see the sun move against the horizon. (Of course, I know that the sun is not moving and that it is actually the earth. But, that is how it appears.) Although I didn't time the sunrise, it only seemed to take a few minutes for the round, blazing ball to be lifted up and exposed in its entirety.

When the sun popped up into the sky, I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of connection. The sun rises every single day, whether anyone is there to watch it or not. And, it stays with us throughout the day, warming our bodies and lighting our way. How often do we appreciate what the sun does for us? When do we acknowledge the serenity the sun brings when it reassures us with its steadfast ways? It occurred to me that the sun I was gazing upon was the same sun that watched over the hundreds of thousands of people that came before me. And, it will continue to provide life for thousands, or perhaps millions of years after I am gone.

Another strong sensation also overtook me at this moment. I felt that the sun, the earth, and I were suddenly very close together. We were not very different in terms of size and we were not far apart in terms of distance. It felt almost as if we existed within one of those snow globes that you see at Christmas time. And, like the feeling of connection, this feeling of closeness also gave me an overwhelming sense of peace.

Somehow I knew that everything will be okay, regardless of where this cancer journey takes us. Cancer or no cancer, eventually our bodies will be separated during this lifetime. But, we will always be together as part of something much greater.

My bedroom window faces east. And, every night this week, as I lay in bed thinking about how much I love my mom and fearing what the future may hold, I take comfort in my little snow globe. And, I remember, the sun is on its way.