Living in Color

From time to time, and for various reasons, I like to revisit this blog. (originally written September 2013) Today, my revisit is a celebration of all the work I've done to get to this colorful place. It wasn't always this way. My second reason is that some friends have recently lost their Mothers and I thought this might be helpful for them to work through the grey. Thanks for allowing me the revisit, and the reminder, that Mom always loved to see me living in beautiful, bright hues of color.

I’m not quite sure of the moment it happened. Maybe it wasn’t a moment in itself. Maybe it was putting one foot in front of the other in baby step fashion to create some semblance of life. Maybe it was in the allowing myself to live in grey tones since January; not forcing myself to be in anything other than total grief, which led to my living in total grey.

Had you asked me all along I would have just said that I was living somewhere in the midst of pain and numb - fluctuating back and forth at times, but more often living simultaneously in both. How can one be in pain and numb at the same time?  Good question and one that I cannot answer. I can only vouch for the fact that it is possible. I’m not sure where in the body they both sit exactly. At times it felt in the heart, others in the solar plexus, existing in the view between my tears which didn’t evade me during my waking moments or in my dreams when I slept. Truthfully they were in every cell of my being. I would wake up and everything: my apartment, food, being outdoors, coffee, people, my insides, my outsides - it was all grey. I put one foot in front of the other in baby step fashion. I agonizingly awaited for time to pass so that the pain would subside just enough for me to be able to inhale. It was all grey....life was all grey. When you love with such intensity you are bound to exist in grey. You are a shadow of yourself within the loss.

And then there was a moment. Colors started filtering through, dissipating the grey.

Did I just laugh a hearty laugh? Birds are chirping outside my window again. Had they left for winter and recently returned? Or is it that my ears have reopened to their beautiful song? My body is also healing physically after lots of work with chiropractor, physical therapy, meditation and prayer.

I’ve returned to smiling at people on the street, and performing random acts of kindness, wanting to be in the community and living life fully once again. I have made the switch from despair and am living back in gratitude, for all things great and small. I am dreaming of spending time in Italy again, taking photos, being of service to others, laughing and loving. I am trying something new and out of my comfort zone and am learning how to paint. My very first painting is of one of my photos taken of a tree in Central Park. I call it “Wisdom” because it symbolizes such grace and strength. Grace and strength put you back on the path to living in color.

The explosion of colors has continued with the deliciousness of swimming in Mom’s pool again.

I see the blue of Mom’s eyes in her pool as I do my watery dance of front, back and side strokes and flipping underneath the surface like the mermaid that I am. Gliding through the velvety water provides such freedom and peace.

I am so grateful to my mother for creating such a cozy, loving and heartwarming place for all of us to share. I honor her, and remember her, and love her in every swim that I take. She used to look out and say “I can’t believe this is all mine,” so happy to have the dream come true of giving her kids the gift of this sacred space. And how she loved to share her gift with everyone else, her welcoming arms always open to all.

I remember how she’d sit on the swing in past summers and watch me frolicking in the pool in delight. I feel her. She is with me. She guides, consoles, encourages, and cheers me on. I always said Mom was my biggest cheerleader. Sometimes the cheers come in little whispers and other times they are huge outbursts of applause in full color. Yes, the colors are coming back. Not all day every day...but more often than the grey.

I smile more when I think of you Mom. The crying has gotten less. Not gone completely, but not every waking moment any more.  And in that is the beauty...the grey can be beautiful too - because it reminds us of how special that love was, how important that person was to our existence. It is this painful because it was so wonderful. There is peace somewhere in there for me. I am grateful for the grey and I hold your essence in my heart and that brings a multitude of colors that are absorbed by every cell in my body.

I write this not only for myself, but for others who need no explanation of the co-existence of the numb and the pain. We hold a special solidarity in living in the grey. I want you to know it’s ok to be grey. Stay in it for as long as you need. Trust that the colors are coming. I promise you that they do come. All of a sudden something will trigger them. For me, it was the blue of Mom's eyes that came forth first and now the entire spectrum of the rainbow is starting to appear.

And when I breathe in, I can also breathe out, and trust is back..trust that I will be ok because I am my mother’s daughter and she is my biggest cheerleader, and she cheers me on from an angel’s perch and sends me colors of love and light.

I am my mother’s daughter and I am living in full color.

Big Love,

PatriciaG

If you feel inspired to share, please do so in the comments section below. I would love to hear from you. And feel free to pass the blog along. Grazie! Most of my photos are available for sale on my Etsy shop. If you see something on this site that isn't on Etsy, just shoot me an email and I'll make it available. All rights reserved. ©Copyright 2015 Patricia Geremia