colours of life

The colour grey

Grey.

I am feeling grey.

Parenting wearies me.

Lack of sleep drains me.

Leaving our home saddens me.

Changing churches grieves me.

Moving unsettles me.

The future evades me.

All I can grasp right now is this hour, and the next hour, and perhaps the hour after that.

I am too exhausted to fathom even tomorrow.

I know in my head that I am richly blessed, but my heart is weary. So very weary.

It has been such a long and hard year; so many stumbling blocks have thwarted our path –
I know it is all finally catching up with me now.

Perhaps tomorrow when I rise, I will glimpse colour once more; but for now, all is grey.

All is grey.

The colour green

Green is the colour of wasabi – something that I ate a big spoonful of on a dare when I was young(er) and stupid(er). I would definitely not recommend such stupidity. Trust me.

Green was the colour of my house at school – both primary and secondary. I remember with much fondness all those swimming and athletic carnivals. Not that I was a great athlete or swimmer (the very thought makes me laugh) but it was always nice having a day off school and seeing all the houses rally with such energy and spirit. In primary school, I actually competed in a few heats but in high school, I mainly hung out with my Asian friends and played cards. So Asian, I know.

Green was the colour of the scarf I knit in high school during the final month of the final exams. It was my first experiment in knitting and it was moderately successful. More significant is the fact that it cemented my habits as a highly effective procrastinator.

Green is the colour of my first car. An energy efficient Toyota Corolla that I bought from my parents eight years ago. I remember how dismayed I’d been when I first found out my parents had purchased a bright green car. Were they crazy, I’d thought to myself. Yet somehow, over the years, the colour has grown on me and now I can’t imagine it in any other shade or hue. Angus calls it “mummy’s green car” since the “big car” naturally belongs to daddy.

Green is also the colour of Angus’ car at home. My parents bought it for him before we moved into our house last year. It has a white steering wheel and big eyes at the front. He is amazingly swift and deft on it and likes to ride around the house on it every day. Often you’ll find him watching Play School while ‘parked’ on his car. Recently he’s even tied a tray of wooden blocks to the back of the car so that he has a trailer like his Pa.

Green is the colour of kiwis – a fruit that both Angus and Pete like to eat. I like how easy they are to prep: one slice and you’re done. It’s the choice fruit for the lazy mum.

Green is the colour of my parents’ house – my old home. I never realised how green it was until after I moved out: the carpet is green, the curtains are green, the kitchen bench top is green, even the couches are green. Though not my first preference in colour, I have to say that I like it. Every time I return home, it soothes me and it calms me.

Green is the colour of the socks I’ve worn to every single birth: Cameron’s, Angus’, Pete’s and James’. They’re Rick’s old socks, and they’re rough and scratchy but I love them for their warmth and thickness and the fact that they belong to the man whom I love.

Green is a colour loved by Rick because it is the colour of nature. It is the colour of our national parks, the colour of our mountains, the colour of the trees on our street and the colour of the bushes in our front yard.

Green is the colour of my mum’s pot plants. It is the colour of growth and freshness, the colour of life and fertility. It is the colour of starting afresh – of planting new seeds and of sowing new hope.

Green.

One of the many colours of life.

(Be inspired by other garden photography here.)

The colour red

Red is the colour of strawberries, which I love to blend with milk and honey to make thick and tasty smoothies.

Red is the colour of my two favourite Japanese restaurants – Mitzu in North Ryde and Jugemu in Neutral Bay. One serves the freshest salmon sushi and the other does an utterly delectable spinach salad.

Red is the colour of Rick’s old schoolbag when he was in kindergarten. It is actually a small suitcase, and inscribed on the inside is the word “Junk” in Rick’s youthful handwriting. We still have it in our home today – we use it to store Angus’ wooden train set.

Red is the colour of Peter and Mary’s Range Rover. They lent it to us when we needed to drive down to a wedding in Wagga Wagga with our friends Mike and Nikki. I remember clearly Rick’s excitement at finally being able to drive his dad’s Land Rover. Nowadays, Angus calls it “Pa’s big red car.”

Red is also the colour of Angus’ toy motorbike – a present from my friends to him on his first birthday. To me, the red motorbike is a novel reminder of the motorbike that Rick used to ride when we first started dating…

Red was the colour of my roses bouquet the day Rick and I got married. They were a rich, wine red and they stood out starkly against the ivory white of my wedding dress.

Red was the colour of my ‘qi pao’ which I wore to our Chinese banquet the next day. I remember how the ‘qi pao’ fitted me like a second skin and how I never wore it again after that night.

Red was the colour of the twelve roses Rick gave me on our first Valentines Day together as husband and wife. It was the first time he’d ever bought me flowers.

Red was the colour of Cameron’s lips. They were a dark, crimson red. For the rest of my life, I will never forget those beautiful, precious lips…

Red is the colour of the dress I wore on Christmas day, three months after Cameron’s death. The colour and vibrance of the dress masked the heavy grief that weighed down my heart.

Red is the colour of the spare chair in my studio. When Rick comes home on Friday and Sunday nights, he often finds me working at my desk. He sits down on the red chair, I swivel around in mine and then we talk and share and catch up on how each of our evenings went. I looked forward to those chats a lot. They are the rare moments of the week when it’s just the two of us.

Red.

One of the many colours of life.