Good Morning, Mary Sunshine!

Good Morning, Mary Sunshine!

Every morning of my childhood began the same way.

Before my feet even touched the floor, before the day’s worries had a chance to whisper, Mom would greet me with a cheerful sing-song voice: "Good Morning, Mary Sunshine!"

Her words floated down the hallway like sunlight slipping through the curtains. No matter what the weather looked like outside, the day always seemed brighter because of her greeting.

My mom had a way of making ordinary moments feel warm and important. When I grew older and life became more complicated, that same spirit followed me wherever I went.

When we lived in Sicily and had our first bambino, she crossed an ocean to be with me. When I faced breast cancer surgery and radiation, she quietly stepped in to care for our family while I healed. She didn’t make a fuss. She simply loved us the way mothers do—steadily and faithfully.

Later, when we lived in Ecuador for ten years, something funny happened with my writing career. My books couldn’t easily be shipped overseas, so my author copies in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series were sent to my mom first. She became the official keeper of my books.

I loved imagining her opening the box, settling into her chair, and reading my words before anyone else. Every writer hopes for a first reader who believes in them. Mine was my mom.

Now when I think back over the years, I realize that her cheerful greeting was more than a morning ritual. It was a blessing.

With four simple words, she reminded me who I was and how the day should begin—with light.

And even now, if I listen closely in the quiet of the morning, I can almost hear her voice again:

“Good morning, Mary Sunshine.”

P.S. My mom is now in hospice. She fell and broke her hip, made it through surgery, and then everything went sideways -- complications with her heart, infections due to wounds and immobility, antibiotics, and C-diff because of all the antibiotics. The cascading effect caused a sudden decline. So, now we say our goodbyes, each of us in our own way. As a writer, I write and my voice is sent via a message by phone -- held close to Mom's ear. We are ushering my mom into her heavenly abode filled with love and sunshine!

A journal also helps to record my thoughts!