Gray Days

Chapter 11: Christmas With An Old Friend's Memory

11

Zoey.

Grandpa Sylvester is not the way he was when Grandma was still alive. I admit, losing Grandma has taken its toll on all of us. But Grandpa has taken the most of it. Back then, he looked younger than he was and was so full of life. Now, as I greet him, I notice the differences. His scalp is almost showing. He's gotten thinner and his face is drooping. Dark circles color the skin under his eyes and I wonder if he still stays up at night thinking about Grandma, something he's done every night after her funeral. If he looked younger than he was before, now, old age has finally caught up to him.

In my room, I watch Rut climb on to his sportsbike and drift off to the street. I don't know where he's going but he did say he has to go somewhere earlier today in his house. He also said he had fun last night. And I think I told him I had fun too. On my desk, I pull up my notebook and write.

December 24, 2019
8:56 A.M.

Last night was fun.

Yesterday's realization:
           Rut isn't too bad.
           He's just very talkative in a good way.

He asked me if I love the stars. They weren't any stars last night, but to answer him, I do. I love the stars the way he loves speed.

“Seeing the stars makes me dream.”
- Van Gogh

But last night, there were only snowflakes that looked like stars to a tipsy boy. It made me dream nevertheless. It made me dream of something I never thought I would ever dream about.

An important question for that dream:

              Is it possible for a girl whose colors are waning to like a boy who's full of them?

I don't know what's with me and metaphors, but nowadays, I find myself using them a lot.

Different colors symbolizes different things.

Red symbolizes passion; love.

Yellow symbolizes energy; excitement.

Green symbolizes nature; growth.

Pink symbolizes youth; life.

Black symbolizes darkness; death.

Gray symbolizes an in-between of life and death; the point between total light and total darkness.

Asked what color is my favorite, I always say gray. Not only does it look good when paired with other colors but it also bears that symbolism everywhere it goes. And more often than not, I feel gray myself.

But after everything that's happened this week—bearing with Rut, meeting a new friend, Jesse coming home, cycling across the state, having fun with Rut—I think I'm leaning on yellow.

I'm feeling the energy surging up in waves as I shower and go downstairs. Mom is preparing for lunch in the kitchen. And I think Dad is still in the shop. One of the things that brought Rut and my family close must have been because my dad's a mechanic and every time Rut needed a repair, he always went to our shop downtown and asked specifically for Dad. Even when we were kids, Rut always went to Dad if there's anything wrong with his bicycle.

Passing by Mom, I go out through the kitchen door to the backyard where Grandpa sits silently while watching Jesse, who is trying to fix his motorbike.