Miss Julia's Got the Blues

Chubby, rosy cheeked and wide-eyed

in my hyper-vigilance,

I arrived one frigid February afternoon

in time for high tea.

Nine and a half pounds,

the fourth of five

and biggest of all,

Mom's prize-fighter!

And the new baby cards were a tinge unkind.

"So, you weren't carrying twins?!?"

"George didn't get his boy."

But I was dutifully wrapped in pink

and welcomed warmly

as the third girl.

Twenty months later my tow-headed, blue-eyed

baby brother arrived.

We grew inseparable,

riding the double stroller

and wearing our matching, footed

"bumpy pajamas."

Chris all in blue,

me all in pink

And I LOVED PINK,

reveling in my pink tights and party dress

while Mom served me milky Cambric tea

and watercress sandwiches

on my plastic tea set.



Mom and Dad wanted to repaint the deep green room

my middle sister and I shared.

The color war was declared!

I wanted pink.

Elizabeth wanted "teenage yellow."

The elder child won,

but Mom made concessions to me:

deep pink gauzy curtains

and bedspreads of 70's paisley in green,

blue, and pink.

Yet, as time passed,

my liking for calm, peaceful blue increased.

Reliable navy first, and,

later, maybe royal blue,

or shades of iridescent indigo.

When I reached my teen years,

I repainted those yellow walls blue.

Blue was no-drama peace,

a deep dive into the ocean

or lying on my back,

and gazing at the sky.



In college, my friend Ruthie introduced me

to the art of Maxfield Parrish,

and my professor to Parrish blue.

 As an adult, I realized that I gravitated to

"women in the key of blue,"

Well-grounded soul-sisters,

some tattooed biker chicks,

Some just laid-back, deep-voiced

"inner-hippies" like myself,

Struggling to be authentic.



I still have this delicate shade of pale pink hyacinth

or antique Victorian rose

that grows within my soul.

Never a tacky hot pink,

but a vulnerable beauty

that understands being a lady

is not an outward code of etiquette

but an inner respect of heart.

And then there is this brilliant orange,

my only favorite warm color,

That bursts forth, full of hope,

as the renewed mercies of sunrise

Or full of rejuvenating energy,

like a tall glass of orange juice.

An undying flame that must be tended.

And I suppose green was always sprouting up around my heart.

Mom said that God must have been fond of green

to paint the world with with so many shades of it.

And she nurtured that love for Creation in me

throughout childhood,

until it grew tall and strong,

like a deep-rooted tree.

Still that peaceful, calm blue is my predominant theme.

And I love how the Blues, born of hardship and lament.

Much like the Books of Psalms,

Soothed the deep pain of the truly oppressed

And became the muse for the music of my youth

But, can blue be sorrowful and passionate at the same time???

Just ask Cookie Monster!