Strong Feelings About a Color

by Donna Swagerty Shreve

The color of yellow has never seemed to have been my friend.  It was the unloved color during childhood.  During games, when colored markers were chosen, yellow was the last one picked.

Yellow was the ugly raincoat I was forced to wear when it rained along with the cumbersome galoshes.  It was also a color that was not flattering to me unless I had a strong tan.

Yellow arrived in the form of the uncomfortable school bus that I had to ride when there was a school field trip.  It was especially annoying years later when I was a school teacher riding herd of a bus load of school kids.

Yellow gave proof of upcoming illness whether in the coughed-up phlegm or the tell tale white of the eyes turning a pale jaundice.

Yellow showed again as jaundice in my two infant boys requiring the blood testing and lights.  Yellow was the verification in my father’s eyes of his progressing cancer.

Yellow was the color of my mother’s, once in awhile, over-processed hair.  The same color crept into my hair one summer as my high lights became an over all jaundice look. Yellow crept into my mother’s fungus reddened nails that made some nails fall from her feet. 

Yellow has also crept into my prized family photos.  When the tell tale yellow appears, I know I am losing a picture memory if I don’t save it with a redone picture with modern technology.

Yellow might seem like bright and cheerful. 

 It is sunshine and happiness to some but yellow to me is the slow descent into illness and lost youth.  Yellow is caution.

280 words

D. Shreve

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