Colors

Its an old shoebox, filled with crayons and colored pencils. She has her own set of washable markers, too. But those are tucked away on a shelf, to be used only under parental supervision. So it’s a shoebox – a jumbled mess of colors. She wants the pink one. So I sit and sort through the mess of colors till I find the pink colored pencil and hand it to her.

Her life will be filled with experiences – each a different color – a different kind – a different impact. And not every one can or should be her favorite. We all have favorite colors. We’re choosey, and that’s the way it should be. But each experience is its own unique shade of life. All valuable in a strangely common and equal way despite the vast contrast in the strokes left behind. She’ll need them – all these brilliantly hued memories and moments. Every picture requires its own combination of colors. Sometimes, the more the better. For now I focus on helping her fill her life with as many colors…experiences…as possible. And somehow in the meantime she makes my world more colorful – more bright and full. My days are less of a blank canvas than they are pieces filled with sparkling swipes whisked onto paper with wild abandon. Its not so much that she brings more life into me…its that she brings the life tucked away deep inside me to the surface. Just where it should be. Shining, shimmering and on display.