My emotions are swirling colors on a t-shirt. Joy at seeing my girls grow up to be compassionate, caring people who pay attention to how others are feeling winds hot pink from the middle out to the edges. Green stripes and streaks are reminding me that the to-do lists and time-frames in my head are only real there. Helping me ground myself in the reality that even if I were to put all of this down in black and white on paper it is still all so nebulous, not important.
Blue is the color of the deep, steadfast partnership I have with Bubba. The clear aqua of the waters that run miles and miles to their bottom and out to the horizon, farther than I can see.
The purple is pain. Sadness that my father is fading faster than I thought he might. Anxiety that he is not being honest with me about how much he hurts and how weak he really is. Fear that by the time the girls and I get to his side in two weeks, we will have waited too long to allow him energy to enjoy our presence. Frustration that I don't know enough. I don't have enough stories about him to share with my children. Despair that many of the memories I have from my childhood are painful ones, memories of his absences and anger.
This t-shirt is heavy. The colors are bright, intertwined, cover the entire canvas that surrounds my heart and stomach, my insides. I'm wearing it because I know it is important to let the shades mingle. I have to feel it touching my skin, feel the purple, the blue, the green and pink. Let them coexist. Today, the purple is winning out but I feel the small solace the balance offers.