Daisies

An Unexpected Prologue to Good Morning, Vietnam

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I walked into a hospital room and said hello to someone I had met the day before for the exact same task. Very quickly, they mentioned something about “how hard we work,” and I replied with “Well, I just got here this morning, so I am fresh as–“

“A daisy,” they chimed in, so quickly.

You’re having a harder day than I am, but we’re on the same frequency, aren’t we.

They said they didn’t know what time it was, and somehow I didn’t either. I’m a morning person but the closed shade had me momentarily forgetful that the sun was out today.

I wrapped up my minimal job as this patient continued to call me Daisy. And as I once again felt enormous resistance to the fact that I couldn’t stay, I told them to have that shade opened today and get some sunshine. They thought about it for a second.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Daisies love sunshine.”

I left that room smiling quietly and thought about Daisy Buchanan, Gatsby’s point of fixation in Fitzgerald’s classic novel. His ceaseless obsession with getting her attention again after years brought him nowhere near her even as they did come face to face again.

I loved that book and I didn’t even catch the message until I came to understand that I am doing a very opposite thing.