And it was all yellow too…

Having not seen my beautiful eleven year old niece in what felt like many months due to joint custody arrangements (between her parents) and an unmeshing of timing/schedules, she absolutely threw me the other day when she shouted out, “Next time you buy me a birthday present please make sure it’s nothing pale yellow! I cannot stand pale yellow.” With the conclusion of her ear piercing decibel confession she attached a dramatically appropriate shudder followed by an ever so dainty eye roll… 
huh, I’m guessing she’s not a fan of yellow then. 
oh, but I am. 
Just last night I sat on my sofa as fading day light filtered in through my kitchen window, painting everything in antiqued golden hues. Turning my head just a tad, to the left, I had the same rays of shine illuminating the neighbors raw wood fence and trees. Beautifully green leaves made love with shards of yellow as the wind turned them about ever so gently. 
ah, yellow… 
At my feet lay my golden dog, so fluffy and warm. Just released from the dog hospital, her human family still flooded with relief to the very edges of our skin tips. As days pass, with each sneeze and patch of dry skin- we fear the worst for her as she grows ever older, weaker, more frail. As I’m dreaming amidst the sky’s falling gold, the strong and amazing man I married comes into the room- kissing me softly as he sits. 
“hello, yellow dog.” He says to her, tousling her furry head. 
yellow dog… 
It is in this moment that I see it, just a glimpse really. My own hands wrapped in onion skin, my hair white and thin. Breaths are shallow, as I lay in a bed somewhere. Out the one window my unguided daydream grants me, I see golden floods of daytime and feel complete. I think of them then, my husband whose lip smells oh so so sweet. I remember his kisses, his warm hands and the way in which golden flecked blue eyes loved me. 
gold. 
I’d remember then, his best friend. They way he called her yellow dog, and how she was prepared to clumsily follow him to the ends of his world if she had to. From the longing in my daydream heart, I sense he is with her then and no longer with me… 
Then I am back to the present of her at my feet and he by my side. 
It is these moments I hold tight and place in my soul’s mason jar. 
I tuck them in, like fireflies whose yellow light kisses make summer a million times more precious than it is.
yellow. 
acidic lemons that manage to make the best cleaners, the freshest fragrances, the best drink accents and the most delicious cakes all while never ceasing to be poetically beautiful… 
antique book pages bursting at their bindings with both history and hope. 
golden wedding bands symbolizing more, in their petite circles than any other piece of jewelry dares. 
butter… by itself, too rich and creamy, but everything it touches becomes that much better. 
tiny wild flowers… big flowers… roses… sunflowers, always facing heaven. 
and of course there’s this… 
This post was inspired by a writing prompt over at mama kat’s writer’s workshop…
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12 thoughts on “And it was all yellow too…

  1. Love your ode to yellow…especially this….like fireflies whose yellow light kisses make summer a million times more precious than it is. and this…sunflowers, always facing heaven.

  2. Anita, I gave her a hug (as I hadn't seen her for awhile) and said "well, that was passionate, how about red then?" and she started laughing.

  3. I guess yellow is different, depending on the person.I don't have directions for the sandwich packs – but you can check them out on Etsy – it's just a square with velcro to close up. Seems easy enough to do (I say that now…). I got this material that is waterproof on one side, so stuff won't leak out. I was going to try to do some different sizes too – some for sandwiches, some for grapes or goldfish or whatever.

  4. What a beautifully written post!I, too, love yellow. The walls in my kitchen are pale yellow. One of the colors I chose for our wedding was yellow. It just cheers me up on those cloudy days.

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