Colors

Early in my counseling I am asked the color of my grief. I immediately say both yellow and purple. These are the colors that first came to mind, but not bright yellow or a bright purple, more a deep yellow-gold and a dark purple, what some would call a dark shade of eggplant. I realize these are unusual colors so I think about it for a week, only to confirm my initial reaction.

Lately, I give the colors more thought. I conclude the dark purple comes from the Easter services and my Catholic upbringing. Death and rebirth. Lots of symbolism there. I haven't had time to figure it all out yet. The yellow gold to me represents heaven, angels, royalty, spirituality.

Last week I am again asked the question. "What color is your grief?" The first thing that comes to mind this time is black. Deep, solid, unpenetrable black; a dark abyss; a black hole of loneliness, sadness, despair. After a week, my answer remains the same. Now, I ponder the difference between the first set of colors and the last. It is easy for me to see that the first set represents Colby. The second represents me.

My grief is a black hole, a huge black hole, but around the edges there are other colors. Thin uneven lines, partial lines and strips of colors. The colors swirl, move, appear and disappear, mix and separate; and are constantly in motion, forming and reforming. It is windy at the edge, but I am a short distance away. I do not feel in danger of falling, or being blown, into the dark vortex. But, I am fascinated by the swirling colors and peer intently at them trying to discern shapes, paths, clues, direction, guidance. So far I am unsuccessful in this. But I feel the answer is there, developing, ready to burst forth at some as of yet undetermined moment.

This is not a dream or a vision, but more of a feeling, a knowing. I wish Colby were here to talk with about this. He would have some fabulous perspective, thought, idea I have not considered, and without him, will probably never consider. Today is a day I feel his absence deeply. But when I think of my colors, they indicate Colby is in a better place and is not in pain. That thought helps as I watch my swirling mass of colors, and wait.