Pagano makes everybody feel good with return to Colts

• Coach is profuse and charitable with gratitude upon returning from leukemia fight
• Says interim head coach Bruce Arians: "I'm guessing Chuck probably rolled in about five''
• Pagano remembers Monday as the second happiest day of his life

Now, finally, the lights can be turned off in Chuck Pagano's office.

Now, finally, after nearly three months of fighting leukemia back into submission and remission, Pagano can return to his office – where Bruce Arians and the organization left the light on during his absence – and gleefully turn the lights on and off on his own.

Coming to work in the morning.

Going home at night.

Just like normal.

Isn't normal wonderful?

"Somebody had sent in some plastic clips so even if somebody tried to shut the lights out, they couldn't,'' Pagano said during an emotional welcome-back press conference Monday afternoon. "So those (clips) were off this morning. We'll go ahead and save some energy and some light bulbs and things like that and shut 'em down.''

Even with the lights off at night, this place now burns a little brighter. That's because Pagano is back after three hellish months. For months, his football team has won for its ailing leader, and now they get a chance to try to win with him.

And he can't wait.

"I got in here about 7 this morning,'' Bruce Arians said. "I'm guessing Chuck probably rolled in about five.''

He looked slightly thinner than before, certainly balder, his voice a little raspy as he penned an emotional, verbal thank-you card, but he looked plenty healthy for a man who's spent the better part of the last three months having poison course through his veins. The doctors have simply told Pagano to be "prudent'' about his work load, although I don't know a single head coach who knows what the word "prudent'' means – at least not when it comes to time spent on the job. It will be up to his family at home and his football family to help him define what "prudent'' means.

During a tear-filled press conference, Pagano was profuse and charitable with his gratitude.

He lovingly thanked his wife, Tina, and his family.

He thanked owner Jim Irsay and general manager Ryan Grigson.

He thanked his doctors, nurses and the medical staff at the IU Simon Cancer Center.

He thanked Bruce Arians in particular and the coaching staff at large.

It was Arians who came up with the idea of leaving the light on for his boss, and it was Arians' inspiration to infuse this season with the larger purpose of extending the season so Pagano could coach in the playoffs. "I don't know where it came from,'' Arians said Monday. "It just popped into my head.'' The guy did so much more than just win football games. He will always have a special place in this organization's history.

"When I asked Bruce to take over, I said you have to kick some you-know-what. You have to do great,'' Pagano said. "But damn Bruce, you had to go win nine games? Tough act to follow. Tough act to follow. Best (performance by an interim coach) in the history of the NFL.''

He thanked the support staff within the building at West 56th Street.

He thanked the fans for their prayers and their support, their cards and texts and letters. The city and the NFL community took Pagano in as family. Hundreds of thousands were raised for leukemia research. All around town, there were newly-shorn men and women, bald in support of Pagano.

He even thanked the media for their kind words and for respecting the family's privacy.

For only the second time in my career, the assembled media rose and gave a sports figure a standing ovation when Pagano entered. The other time was after Arnold Palmer's final round at The Masters.

Objectivity and professionalism? Shoot, it's all out the window when it comes to a life-threatening disease. And if some pointy-headed journalism professor wants to debate the issue, let's have at it.

Pagano becomes so much more than just an NFL head coach now. He becomes a beacon, a guide through the vagaries of cancer, a spokesperson against a disease that tried to take his life. As he spoke, it almost sounded like he was taking a pledge to lead the battle, not just on the football field, but in the community.

Just the way a 9-year-old boy helped him by sending a letter while Pagano was in the hospital.

"I got a letter from a 9-year-old who was diagnosed when he was six; now he's in remission and cancer-free,'' Pagano said. "He was smart enough to tell me, 'Coach, you can beat this, but your attitude has got to be really good. You've got to be really kind to your nurses. They mean well. I know you're not going to feel good, but be very nice to them. Make sure you chew on ice, coach, when you're taking your chemo. It will help you with the sore in your mouth. I prefer strawberry popsicles. You might want to try those, coach.'

Pagano smiled.

"That's what I did,'' he said.

Next it's time to pay it forward.

Pagano said the happiest day of his life was July 1, 1989, when he married Tina.

Monday, he said, was the second happiest day of his life. "Getting to pull up, drive my car, the key fob still worked,'' he said. "I was beginning to question whether it would or not.''

It worked.

Along with the lights.

On, off. On, off.

Ever think such a simple thing could be so beautiful?

Bob Kravitz is a columnist for The Indianapolis Star. Contact him at bob.kravitz@indystar.com. You can also follow Bob on Twitter at @bkravitz.