Color & Life
She knows there are those moments that define her life. She knows that this is one of them.
~~~
When she was a little girl, she and her mother would made cookies together every few weeks. She would help measure the sugar, and the flour, and of course steal those extra special bites of the dough when her mom wasn’t looking.
But one particular day, it all changed. She was just about to pour the sugar into the bowl, her mother the eggs in hand, when she heard her brother crying in pain from the front hall.
Her mother rushed to his aid, the egg she was about to crack falling from her hand and shattering on the floor.
A moment later, her mother returned, brother in tow. He was screaming and crying, blood pouring down his leg from the deep cut. She watched in horror as he was lifted on to the counter, cookie batter pushed aside, so her mother could get a better look at the wound.
She watched as blood dripped down onto the floor, where the shattered egg oozed its white and yellow innards onto the wooden floor boards.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
White.
Yellow.
Red.
Blood.
The first of many times she would see it gushing from a wound that wouldn’t clot.
~~~
When her mother died years later, it was as if all the color drained from the world. She was left with black and white splotches of a once vibrantly colored home full of lavender shampoo and fresh baked cookies.
A week after the funeral, she sat in the living room, staring unseeing at the television. The characters seemed happy about something. She couldn’t imagine what could possibly be making them so joyous. Didn’t they see that all the happiness was gone?
Taken.
She felt a hand on her arm and turned to face her brother. He sat down next to her, placed his head softly on her shoulder, and whispered, “Can we make some cookies?”
She felt a sharp stab of pain, and a nearly overwhelming desire to yell at him for even making the suggestion.
But as she sat there, the pain subsided, the impulse to scream retreated, and then she rested her head on his, and nodded. It’s what her mother would have wanted.
When she cracked that first egg, she saw yellow.
~~~
When she saw the shimmering blue event horizon of the Stargate for the first time, she couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. All of the incessant calculations that were constantly whirring through her brain paused momentarily to take it in.
It was real.
It would transport them across hundreds of thousands of light years, to places humankind had never dreamed of.
Yet despite the enormity of what it meant, it was clothed in such beauty as she had never seen before. The glinting light reminded her of a sunny day at the beach, only brighter. The textured ripples were like waves in the ocean, only more vibrant.
She stood there, staring, taking in the beauty until, her brain finally caught up, and the scientist in her burst forth in a series of excited exclamations.
She would only see blue in her dreams for quite some time.
~~~
She almost lost him the same day Janet died. She was shaken to her core.
If she had lost them both…
but she couldn’t think like that.
She stared at her computer screen, tears clouding her vision. She should have gone home long ago, but here, in the cocoon of work, she could still hold on to some shred of herself. The calculations streamed before her, but she couldn’t read any of them. This was one of the many times over the past few days that the tears had come, unbidden. She felt helpless to control them.
She heard someone knock lightly on her doorframe, and found Daniel, his face dark, not just from the shadows cast by the light from the hallway. She offered a weak smile. He returned it.
He grabbed a nearby stool and sat next to her, silent. They both started at the computer screen, full of color and light. It wasn’t a life-saving problem she was trying to solve.
But she felt like it was keeping them alive, nonetheless.
~~~
Their beer bottles clinked melodically as they toasted another successful mission. It was an ordinary team night.
In Jack’s backyard, they all got cozy around the vibrant campfire which threw its yellow and orange flames high into the air. Silence fell over them, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Each lost in thought; they stared blindly into the flames.
It had been a hard year, but there was still hope. They had just negotiated a peaceful treaty with leaders of a far off world.
No blood. No tears. Not today.
Today only the happy feeling of home, surrounded by those she loved. The sounds of the crackling of the fire calmed her tired mind, the bursts of golden sparks feeding her weary soul.
Today, today, she could see the beauty in everything.
~~~
He is leaning against her porch rail, watching her patiently.
Her eyes burn with tears unshed at the base. She stares at the palms of her hands, open before her. She sees her flesh colored skin. It looks so alive. Not like his.
She lost her father today. He didn’t go out in the blaze of glory as they had both been expecting. No. It was his fate to go quietly, gradually slipping away from his life, from her. Now she sits here, remembering too well how it felt when she lost her mother years ago. Maybe if she sits here long enough, it will all pass her by, leaving no marks marring her soul.
But there he is, hands shoved in his blue jeans pockets, just watching, waiting for her. Like he always has been.
To move means accepting it’s all real, but it also means going forward, with him.
And somehow, that makes it all okay.
She lifts her teary eyes to him, and stands shakily. One word, softly under his breath: “C’mere.”
His arms surround her.
She falls apart.
But the colors of her life never dim.
And for now, here, with him, that is enough.
She knows there are those moments that define her life. She knows that this is one of them.