The Colours Of My Grief

My grief is purple,

Purple because I am sure she would have loved purple too just like her sisters,

Purple because it is calm yet fierce,

Purple because it is magical as well as pretty,

Purple for the ring that I now wear on my finger in her memory,

Purple for the colour of the dress that I bought for her big sister to wear at her funeral.

My grief is yellow,

Yellow for the daffodils that pop up around Springtime along the motorway, which remind me of her because they bloomed around the time of her passing,

Yellow for Easter time when I was allowed out of hospital for a few hours as I carried her still body alongside her twin sister,

Yellow for the beautiful hot sun that shone on the day of her funeral,

Yellow for the stars that glisten so brightly above our home every night.

My grief is white,

White for the flat line on the scanner that showed us that she no longer had a heartbeat,

White for the coffin that we brought her home in on the backseat of our car,

White for the beautiful crochet blanket that she now lays upon in her coffin,

White for the sea spray that reminds us of her as our other two children play in the sand,

White for the little angel feathers that she now leaves for us to find in her memory.

My grief is pink,

Pink for the rosy pink lips that she had when she was born,

Pink for our beautiful precious girl,

Pink for the matching crochet hats that my friend gifted me for our twin girls to wear together,

Pink for the flowers that we place on her grave,

Pink for the clothes that she forever wears.