Blue.  Yes, blue, the color.  It’s all I see.  It’s all I’ve been seeing for God knows how long, and it started the day he hit me with that shovel.

It wasn’t an ordinary shovel.  It was his shovel.  It had been his daddy’s shovel & before that it was his grandaddy’s shovel.  Grandaddy made it by hand.  Every bit of it.  He cut the tree to fashion the wooden handle.  He widdled & sanded & stained that handle so that it was literally beautiful enough to stand alone in the front room & everyone would respect it as a piece of art.


But that wasn’t all.  Grandaddy poured the metal and shaped the working part of the shovel, too. It wasn’t flat like a snow shovel.  Wasn’t even rounded like a regular every day shovel.  It was more… diamond-shaped.  It was almost breath-taking in its own right, but once you add on that handle that was fashioned so meticulously, it was the pride & joy of the men in the family.

You would think the world would have gone black after the metal hit me in the temple.  I think that’s what happens to normal people when they get hit in the head… at least that’s what I’ve read.  But for me, everything is blue.  It’s not a dark blue, or a sad blue.  It’s not even a sky blue.  The way I can describe it is, well, gosh I just can’t!

It’s like looking at something you never believe existed right before your very eyes. It’s like seeing Santa Claus or Easter Bunny in your living room.  It’s like seeing love.  It’s like… seeing God.  It’s blue & it’s My Blue.

I can hear them talking all around me.  They say I’m pretty broken up & badly bruised.  I guess my eye socket is broken & I’m missing some teeth. The doctors are telling people who my ribs will heal & my arm will be in a cast for a while.  They aren’t sure they can fix my eye though… something about bones sticking too close to my brain & swelling.  I don’t really understand.  I hear them wondering why I won’t wake up”,  but then they say “maybe it’s for the best”.

I’m glad I can turn their voices on & off in my head because a lot of things they say aren’t very nice.  Things about how I’ll never be as pretty as I was & never be able to catch a man.  Things about how the children might fear me & how I’ll never find love… How I’ll always be alone.

Well I don’t believe it.  Right now, I SEE LOVE.  I see Blue.  It’s so beautiful. And, it’s all because he hit me with his shovel.  His daddy’s shovel.  His grandaddy’s shovel.

I see Blue.