Here Comes the Sun
Is it alright? Maybe for now, it is
I was making dinner, when I heard my son singing sweetly in the next room, “It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter…”
My lips curled into the smallest smile. It has been a long and lonely winter. It’s felt like winter since 2019 when my world got turned upside down so many times, I didn’t know which side was up. It was also around that time that I was working on a passion project about Patti Boyd, the muse to Eric Clapton and George Harrison— the composer of that very song my son was singing.
“Little Darling…” I responded from the kitchen. My son’s eyes lit up. “Do you know this song?” he asked.
“Yes, I know this song pretty well. I wrote a whole show about it…well, not about that exactly, but…”
My voice trailed off. He didn’t need to know how music will suddenly transport me to a moment— and how this brilliant song manages to make me feel both bittersweet and hopeful. I listened to this song almost as much as I listened to “you Oughtta Know” and every Adele song, as I cried on the floor of the bathroom wondering how the fuck I was going to be a single mom as a freelance assistant.
I listened to the song as I was working on a project that fueled me during the most tumultuous two years of my life— adjusting to divorce, covid, falling in love again, death, family changes, watching a friend slip back into addiction— all while balancing a career and raising a child, each with their own sets of ups and downs.
I stopped listening to the song when the project ended abruptly— a sudden, painful death that seemed to echo what was going on in several facets of my life.
I don’t think I’ve escaped the long, cold, lonely winter of 2019, and then again in 2022. I think I’ve been very sad for a long time. That is scary to type, but it’s probably true.
“Little Darling
The smiles returning to their faces
Little Darling
It seems like years since it’s been there”
I wanted to tell my son, not only did I know this song, I’ve been living it for most of his life. Then another thought occurred, like a lightning bolt. I’ve been waiting for the sun to return, but I am the sun. And it has been alright (mainly).
“Should we listen to it together?” My son’s voice interrupted my epiphany.
“Definitely,” I replied and cued it up. “We should probably dance to it, too.”
His delighted giggle caused our dog to sit up. He wanted in on the action, too.
The three of us danced and sang.
It is alright. For now.
And right now… “for now” is enough.