The Color Wheel of You by Suzanne Bjornson
When I first met you, I was green. A new school, new program, new beginnings. I was a fawn, stumbling through the overgrowth. You let me explore the maze, navigate through the gnarled branches, nudging me toward the path. Whenever the blackberry bramble became too thick, you helped pull me through it.
When I was called into your office, I was blue. You didn’t need me to say the words out loud, but you knew. “Teachers hear things, you know,” was how you started after the rain hit the window. Blue coated my tongue; its bitter taste made me want to throw up. Blue wrapped around me like a waterlogged weighted blanket, pulling me deeper and deeper into the abyss. You threw a life preserver, pulling me back to the shore.
When I brought you my college acceptance letter, I was yellow. I couldn’t help but see the sun everywhere, especially in the neon yellow sweatshirt you always wore: “It always rains here, everyone needs sunshine.” You were a construction worker in caution yellow, helping us break free. You wrote my letter of recommendation and built the foundation for me to explore the world.
When I saw you next, I was orange. What are the odds that you would be the one saving us waterlogged college kids in life jackets from the ocean? “Boneheads,” you said lovingly, covering us in towels and saving our overturned kayaks from the Puget Sound. Warmth returned to our limbs, glowing from the seawater. You got us to safety, and we got a story.
When I got the invite, I was purple. “It’s a celebration of life while I’m still around,” you reasoned. All of us saw you one last time; helped you clean and cared for you and say goodbye. No one wanted to say goodbye, lingering while the plum dusk crept upon us like a soothing blanket.
When I discovered you passed away, I was gray. The world’s saturation deteriorated, numbing me to any color. There was an empty seat at the bar, an untouched glass of the beer you liked, and dozens of handwritten notes and pictures we left for you. We remembered how you brought out the color in all of us.
Artist’s Statement
This piece is a deeply personal reflection after my mentor recently passed away. Being able to write has always been a passion, and helps me process life events.
Suzanne Bjornson holds a Bachelor’s of Science in Kinesiology from Pacific Lutheran University and is currently working on her masters in English and Creative Writing at Southern New Hampshire University. When not writing or working, she can be found exploring the PNW, or cuddling with her cat. This is her first published piece.