Bright clothes

I wear bright clothes when I am depressed. Today I have on a bright turquoise sweater that I usually never wear. If you see me and I am wearing turquoise pants with giant flowers on it then I am most likely in a hole. I do in on purpose because when I feel bad I need that extra ooomph, that extra brightness so people don't see it. Ofcourse now you all know it and will probably check on me when you see my bright pants coming but I don't really care.

4 years ago today my13 yr old son DJ was in intensive care with severe head trauma from a skateboarding accident. I was in a dark hospital room asking the nurses if they had known anyone with such severe trauma coming out of it and they told me no. I was standing against a wall as a doctor was telling me that my son didn't need any pain medication because he wasn't feeling any pain, that cold white wall was the only thing holding me up. I was taking calls from DJ's friends and their parents and had to tell them it wasn't good, that what they all had heard was true. I was listening to myself telling DJ to go to Jesus because he was not with me anymore. I was putting my hand against his to see the size, his were just slightly larger than mine. I was looking at his doodles on his right hand of dice and a star--he was always doodling. I was feeling his hand begin to harden because his body wasn't working correctly anymore. I was listening to my daughter scream in the hospital room for her brother not to leave her. I was listening to my younger son whale as he told DJ goodbye. I was crying in the halls where no one could see me, I was planning the songs I wanted at his funeral. I was answering questions about DJ's sexual history to the organ donor people--he hadn't even kissed a girl yet. I was sitting and sitting and sitting next to his bed watching all the tubes keep him alive. That was my life four years ago today, I never left his side though he eventually left mine.