All The Color Gone

Pale.  Flat. Tasteless. 

Yes.

They’d crossed over to that continent where grieving parents lived. It looked the same as the rest of the world, but wasn’t. Colors bled pale. Music was just notes. Books no longer transported or comforted, not fully. Never again. Food was nutrition, little more. Breaths were sighs. And they knew something the rest didn’t. They knew how lucky the rest of the world was.

― Louise Penny

It was absolutely this way for more than the first three years.  

No matter how hard I WILLED it, I could not make my world any different than it was. 

But thankfully, slowly, the color has returned-dimmer still-but no longer only shades of gray. 

Music again touches my heart and the right words do bring comfort.

Sighing remains my second language.

And I still think how very blessed are those who have been spared this awful knowledge.  

 

 

Author: Melanie

I am a shepherd, wife and mother of four amazing children, three that walk the earth with me and one who lives with Jesus. This is a record of my grief journey and a look into the life I didn't choose. If you are interested in joining a community of bereaved parents leaning on the promises of God in Christ, please like the public Facebook page, "Heartache and Hope: Life After Losing a Child" and join the conversation.

12 thoughts on “All The Color Gone”

  1. I know I’m not alone in this painful journey, but sometimes I think I’m the only person in the world who has lost their child. Otherwise, why isn’t the world full of crying, weeping women?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No, you are not. I am so very sorry for your loss and your pain. I pray that the Lord will make Himself very real to you and that He will overwhelm your wounded heart with His love, mercy and grace. ❤

      Like

  2. My husband Keith is an artist and can spend months creating his paintings. However, often the ones I like the best are the smaller ones with no more than a few brush strokes.
    The Christmas after Luke’s death, Keith did me a postcard size watercolour of the five of us. The children were just youngsters and the two smallest were between us holding our hands. The tallest….Luke had let go of my hand and gone on ahead. Keith’s message to me was “One day the colours will come back.”
    They did, only some days they are muted.
    I have taken a photograph of the watercolour and wished I could post it for you to see. Unfortunately I don’t know how to upload it….miss by boy for ths sort

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I felt this very same way. For the longest time, I could feel no enjoyment and the beauty around me was dull, lifeless, and colorless. I have a quote on my computer at work that says, “When you build walls to block out the pain, it also blocks out the joy.” As the years have gone by, I am working on trying to get through those walls I built.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That is a very astute and wise observation. I realized that I, too, had built some walls and am working to knock them down. I pray you have success in getting through them. ❤

      Like

  4. Oh how I wish we’d been spared this awful knowledge too…and yes, how blessed are those that have no idea about this pain and heartache that is our life now.

    Liked by 1 person

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