John Edward - What If God Were the Sun?

A Novel

John Edward

STERLING and the distinctive Sterling logo are registered
trademarks of Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Published in 2010 by Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.
387 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10016
2000 by John Edward
First edition published in 2000 by Hay House/Jodere Group
Distributed in Canada by Sterling Publishing
c/o Canadian Manda Group, 165 Dufferin Street
Toronto, Ontario, Canada M6K 3H6
Distributed in the United Kingdom by GMC Distribution Services
Castle Place, 166 High Street, Lewes, East Sussex, England BN7 1XU
Distributed in Australia by Capricorn Link (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
P.O. Box 704, Windsor, NSW 2756, Australia

Manufactured in the United States of America
All rights reserved

Sterling ISBN 978-1-4027-7561-1

The original song You Are Always Here with Me has been used by permission of the composer. Copyright 2000 by Wendy Esposito.

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My thanks to all who understood
and encouraged me on my journey.

I m sitting here in the third-floor corridor of our local Community Hospital, counting the number of tiles that make up the bigger pattern on the floor. As I look around, I note that this complex feels more like a hotel than a medical center. The staff and administration are obviously interested in providing the best professional care they can, and its clear that they also appreciate aesthetics. The manicured bushes, plants, trees, and flower gardens are exquisite, and theyre accented by stately fountains bubbling with softly flowing water. The entire place is immaculateand gives off a feeling of efficiency and securityto inpatients, outpatients, and even visitors like me.

I walk into 314, a double room, and see that the patient in the other bed is having a chest x-ray, so I decide to wait outside.

It should only be a minute, and then you can come right back in and visit, the red-haired radiology technician says, smiling at me.

She pushes the portable x-ray machine into the room toward her patient, and yells out, Mr. Brown? Are you awake?

I feel like yelling out, Are you kidding?! The sound of the machine being noisily wheeled into the room will more than take care of that. And, of course, when Mr. Brown sees the technician coming toward him, hell really perk up. Shes quite attractive.

Back out in the hall again, I find it amazing that the mind can find the smallest way to occupy itself. I cant believe Im taking the time to notice the tiny gold specks swirled into the smaller interlocked triangles that form the squares in the floor tile. But what else am I supposed to do in a hospital? Its either count the floor tiles or do battle with the vending machines.

Maybe I should make another attempt to fight with the soda-and-snack dispenser down the hall. At last count, the machines were winning. Lets see, I believe that for my five-dollar investment, the return was two cans of Pepsi and a bag of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies. What a bargain. Not only am I out a few bucks, but there goes my low-carb diet. Maybe all those little money-munching, profit-making machines around the hospital go toward buying those beautiful fountains. Who knows?

Then again, maybe I need to focus on getting more than three hours of sleep at night. Im very tired, and Im being a little sarcastic and cynical. I know one thing, though: No matter how phenomenal a place this might be, I dont want to be here. Im not happy about this visitnot happy at all.

ITS FUNNY HOW RULES can mean so much to one person and so little to another. The first day I came here, I walked past the front desk and went right up to room 314. Almost immediately, I was verbally assaulted by one of the many blue-haired Rambo wannabes. You know the ones I meanthe women with the stern eyes and pointy index fingers that they wag in your face.

This particular enforcer stopped me in my tracks, informing me that I was in breach of hospital security.

Do you think youre special? she barked. There are rules, you know.

All of this because I didnt get a room pass. After I expressed my deepest apologies for putting the lives of 200 patients at risk by not securing the large plastic card with 314 on it, I assured her that I would never violate the rules again. Nopenever again would I walk past the front desk on my way upstairs. So... I made sure that I found every side and back door possible to get up there from that day forward. I have been here every day since then. And that was two weeks ago.

Its times like these that force you to be a little more analytical about life. Not the kind of analysis that requires a visit to the local therapist and a nice black couch, but a more personal type of introspection where you delve into the meaning of your own existence. I believe that its times like these when your faith is stretched and tested.

When you think about life, you cant help realizing how much humor and irony there is all around you. Its right there, right in front of your face. And sometimes it takes a personal epiphany to get that sort of reality check. Well, mine is happening as I sit here, but its not so subtle. Its screaming out reminders about personal decisions I made in the past.

All of a sudden, the act of visiting one of my parents in the hospital has rules and regulations attached to itnot to mention a time limit. Somehow this all makes me think about the many holiday and Sunday dinners that I neglected to be a part of because I was busy or just too tired or lazy to go to. I made up every excuse in the book not to attend those family functions, and sometimes I went to a holiday party at a friends house instead.

Now it seems very ironic that those missed opportunities are truly being missedmore than ever.

As we go through life, we might make choices that we believe are important for us at that time. But when we least expect it, or when were selfishly neglecting the situations in front of us, what I call a pocket of emotion is filled in with a feeling reminiscent of the experience that has passed. What we didnt realize at that time was that we would be dealing with that pocket of emotion at a later date, and usually at a time when we would be the most vulnerable.

Thats how I feel right now. I didnt realize back then when I was avoiding those family functions that I was missing anything, and I took those opportunities to be with my loved ones for granted. And now I have regrets.

Im feeling pretty morose as I go over all this in my mind, yet I clearly recognize that the past is the past. So here I am in the present, counting floor tiles and realizing that my hearts pocket of feeling is being emptied. Too bad it isnt more like placing my hand in an old jacket pocket and finding a $20 bill. Instead, theres just emotion.

ONE OF THE NICER WOMEN at the front desk is approaching me, and Im afraid that shes going to throw me out or at least make an attempt. My parents taught me to be respectful of people who are older than I am, but nobody is going to tell me when and for how long I can see the person who loved and raised me. Instead, she just smiles at me, in a very compassionate and understanding manner. It seems like she knows something I dont. But maybe Im just grasping at strawsIm so exhausted I cant think straight.