Sunshine on your shoulders makes you happy.
Sunny on your shoulders makes you bloody.
Now, that’s not exactly fair. Sunny is not — glory to God in the highest — prone to scaling shoulders.
She is, however, besotted with bloodying other beings.
I know what you’re thinking. In fact, odds are you’re barely thinking clearly, because you’re already oogling and googling over Sunny’s sugar-sweet face. How could a creature this charming, a face this fairy-like, contain a world of whirling rage?
Trust us on this one.
Don’t get me wrong. Sunny has a soul as bright as any red giant, a heart that goes deeper and higher than a host of galaxy clusters. Get her in the right moment, in the right mood, and you’ll glimpse a brightness so brilliant you almost have to look away. She’ll let you love her, and she’ll love you back with a leap-of-faith sweetness that shows the anxious kitten shimmering inside.
There is sweet, sweet sunshine in this Sunny.
But somewhere in her timeline, Sunny acquired a hardened crust of cold comet chunks. She was loved well — deeply, deeply well — by her righteous rescuers in Florida, but has struggled to settle into a more general sense of safety in the world. (And by “safety,” I mean both “inner spiritual security” and “ability to resist random acts of murder.”)
She’ll trust in sun-squirt spurts, only to revert to scattershot rage. The shell around her warmth is stony…and scary. When Sunny descends Suite C’s window perch, cats scatter and volunteers spontaneously enact a flash mob performance of Dancing On The Ceiling.*
So we’re working our warmth slowly with this spiky sundrop. If we learned anything from Eclipse-o-mania 2017, it’s that darkness may cover the world, but it never lasts. One day, everyone’s itching and agitating about their retinas and the stifled sun and the dark side of the moon; the next, we’re back to bickering about the President and spoiling Game of Thrones episodes and dreaming the dreams we’re brave enough to dream.
All under the bright, living sunshine.
So Sunny, do your darndest, darkest deeds. We’ll try to keep the universe in perspective, holding a timeline of light years instead of weeks, and we know your sun will rise again. We love you exactly as you are. Stubborn sunshine will warm your path, like it or not, and you’ll know, in your hot, honey-good heart (we know it’s in there) that you are loved.
Just keep off our shoulders ’til then, OK?
*Oh, what a feeling.