The Color of Love: why we wear blue on June 5

The whole poem walks through the day Adam drowned, from the pool to the hospital, in our mom’s own words. Some of it is hard to read. It’s lightly edited here for typos.

THE COLOR OF LOVE

AQUA was enticing,
we taught him it was fun.
We praised as he jumped
in waters kissed by the sun.

PINK was the tent he played in,
then he crept through the kitchen door.
Always curious, always moving,
always silently wanting to explore.

SKY BLUE was the peaceful day
so deceiving when hell came.
The stillness of the water mirrored his heart,
life will never beat the same.

BLONDE curls, floating face down,
no sound, I moved in a dismal trance.
ISR not available. Too young to swim.
Without a four-sided fence, he didn’t stand a chance.

WHITE clouds were the reflection
though his eyes drew a blank stare.
HAZEL minutes before saw love,
but darkness for weeks would remain there.

BLUE in only 3 minutes,
were his lips, his fingers, his toes.
The lack of oxygen, the worthless CPR,
my healthy body’s collapse, as his limp body rose.

RED was the sound of my screams,
the sirens that went past.
Horrified by what was happening,
the medical team in action, my prayers steadfast.

PLEASE GOD. PLEASE GOD.
Made silent promises but all I could manage to say.
GREEN with envy, following behind, helplessly crying,
I cursed every unaware, unmoving, undead person in our way.

GREY was his face, his body completely still
as EMS pumped his chest and rolled him out.
No breathing tube, no airway, no pulse,
no matter how hard they tried on the 15-minute route.

YELLOW was the pajama pants
that laid shredded on the floor.
Spiderman covered in blood and vomit,
I could not fathom anymore.

BEIGE was the room we were made to sit,
where bad news would usually come.
For an hour I ignored the stigma of no windows
and begged for a miracle from above.

BLACK was where my mind was,
riddled with shock and disbelief.
I begged for a Priest to baptize his body,
to rest his soul and give him relief.

GOLD is the feeling I had when the doctor said
“He’s alive” and gestured toward
a faceless priest, a vessel of the Healer,
who I’ve come to know was the Lord.

CLEAR tears the doctor cried,
for over an hour, she worked on a baby that was dead.
Heat transferred through her body,
his heart began beating as the oil anointed his head.

It’s been a year and I still get chills
when I relive Adam’s story.
For no one knows where the priest came from
so to God I give all the Glory.

BLUE is where I picture Adam
on his swing staring at the moon.
Part of his soul remains too blessed for earth,
but his job unfinished to be gone so soon.

Or maybe Adam’s just fishing
on the YELLOW sunset of a lake.
Until the day I ask God, Why?
these are the adventures I imagine he will make.

For I believe Adam’s here to serve a purpose
which we are unworthy yet to see.
Only he and God will decide
what it is and when it shall be.

Until then, I’ll hope with every breath I have
and wait for His direction.
Today I choose to wear BLUE for
Adam’s hope, his strength, and our journey’s reflection.

HEAVEN is now the COLOR of his life.
When he’s in my arms, it’s all I can see.
Blessed by His miracle, perspective I’ve gained,
LOVE, the purest of colors, God and Adam invented just for me.