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You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head, and I cried
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
You are my sunshine, my only
sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head, and I cried
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
It’s funny
how life can be. Whenever I hear the song ‘You Raise Me Up’ I think of my
daughter. It just seems to me to be her song from me. The other song that
affects me and reminds my of a child is ‘You Are My Sunshine’. I used to sing
to get my son Joseph to stop crying. Both songs have deep meaning.
When he was
dying and would be in pain or discomfort, he would cry as a 1-year old would. I
would take him and hold him on my lap and sing the song. Whenever I got to the
part: You make me happy when skies are gray,
he would stop crying and smile! It never failed for his Mom or me.
I remember
one Saturday morning, as he sat in my arms in North Shore University Hospital,
staring out the window wondering what was in store for him, I sang that song to
him as he lay in my arms attached to tubes and quietly dealing with the pain.
He slowly looked up and smiled once again, it made my day, my whole day and a
woven memory in the cloth I will keep forever.
Today it’s
been 39 years since he was born, the song will still bring that memory home to
me, and I will remember his round little face and feel the pain in my heart.
Funny how similar it is to the pain I feel when I see my daughter. I don’t know
if the pain ever goes away, ask me when I’m dead. But to tell you the truth,
you have to live on, you have to dance and sing and laugh and be happy, because
life is so unpredictable.
I know I do
silly things sometimes, but I do them because I love life in spite of the bad
breaks that come down the pike. But those horrific breaks are balanced by good
and wonderful breaks too. My other children, a truly wonderful and loving wife,
one that has made a home for me, one I don’t wish to leave and never did.
Maybe the
tributes to motherhood need clarity. Maybe they, mothers, should be celebrated
on their children’s birthday. Those of us born should not take the bow, the mom
that suffered through 9 months and childbirth should be celebrated. It should
work so that if you have a birthday, you buy your mom a present.
Maybe when
that same birthday occurs, Dads should reach in and buy Mom the present, for making
it possible to be a father, and a parent, telling her ‘thank you’ for creating
my family.
I know that
little Joseph is now 39 years old today. If he had lived I know he would have
been suffering just like my daughter, so maybe he was lucky. Sounds crazy I
know, but if you think about it, in 100 years from now no one will remember or
little care. But if it weren’t for my wife I would have never met Joseph, would
never have had some truly beautiful memories along with other ones. But at
least he lived.
So, Happy
Birthday Joseph, we will always love you, and maybe, just maybe, someday I can
sing that song to you and see your smile once again.
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