the color of joy

Peggy’s prompt—the color of joy—30 minutes—042211




If gray is the color of sadness, and black is the color of fury, what would be the color of joy? Something bright, like red, or brilliant, like silver? Or maybe it’s all the colors, arranged in a rainbow. Probably though, it’s not a single color all the time, but rather is the primary color we associate with a particularly joyful memory. For me, sometimes it’s blue, as in the blue sky meeting the blue of the ocean; sometimes it’s yellow, as when my son drew a shining sun in pre-school; often it’s black, as when my gaze falls on my Eartha Kitty. My favorite color is red, but usually that’s associated with clothes or home furnishings or dishes—accent colors, not the overall impression of color.

People who have had near-death experiences often talk of seeing a white, or golden light that shines at the end of a dark tunnel, along with having a sensation of peace and joy. So may the color of joy is the absence of color pigments, as in paint, or all the colors, as in light beams.

If I were given a limit of one color to my world, I’d choose white; if given two, I’d add black; with three, I’d add red. After that would come purple, green, blue, and yellow (gold). Pastels would be way down the list. And browns and grays and tans might not appear at all. That’s my selection, I know that other folks would choose different ones. For example, when my mother was bed-ridden awaiting her last breaths, she asked for a washcloth. When my father brought her one from the bathroom closet, she waved it away with the comment “you know I don’t like green.” Obviously green was not a joyful color for my Mother. But I’m not sure I know what would have been joyful for her. Not too “loud”, for sure. Not my favorite red. It would have been something softer and more subdued—a dusty rose or a light blue, perhaps. I think my Dad would have chosen more sea-related colors—green and blue, probably. My sister seems to like the pastels and oranges and beiges, the opposite of me, although we have pretty much the same coloring of hair, eyes, and skin.

Anyhow, if you want to make a joyful splash of color to celebrate my passing, please make it red, and leave off the grays and browns. And no pink, for gosh sake. I’m sick of breast cancer pink. I never liked it (pink) anyway, and there’s no joy for me in being reminded (of breast cancer).