The color of crashing waves is my favorite color, blue.  It reminds me of the calm after the storms that hit the beach at night. It smells of salt and tastes bitter. In the early morning, when the rain hits this blue water, I see dots in the water.

Blue reminds me of the days my aunt would take me to the beach and the bright shade of blue waves blended into the summer sky lit by the bright yellow sun. She would tell me about what she enjoyed this time of year, and how she felt one with the soft, tall blue waves that allowed her to float in the ocean’s water. She would tell me not to fear the unknown of the wave. I feared even being near the tall waves that rushed toward my feet, I hated these blue waves. Until I learned why others enjoyed the unknown that lay within the ocean.

Blue is a range of emotions; blue is how I felt when my mother passed.  Sad, but happy she was no longer in pain; lost, but relieved. Blue reminds me of the days she held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay. Blue were her eyes– kind, inviting warmth. They were as pale as the bluebirds that come out in the summer and sing their summer songs. Blue was her favorite color. Blue is mine too.