Pink or Rose colored glasses

Pink 

Pink is MY color.

Pink is the color of my Mother's lips when she tucked me in at night when I was still small.

Pink is the color of my favorite jelly shoes then and my favorite animal at the time - flamingos.

Pink is my color, my best cousin's was purple so we always knew what was whose.

Pink is the color of my bandana that I just couldn't see myself going to middle school without.

Pink is the color of my cheeks when kids teased, stole from me and bullied me in middle school.

Pink is the color framing my best friends' smile as we went on adventures as teens.

Pink is the color of my favorite marking pen to use when I learned to study and immerse myself daily in God's word.

Pink is the color of the blanket that a thoughtful friend and his Mom gave me before I went to college.

Pink is the color of my shirt when my special someone first held my hand and danced me across my apartment floor.

Pink is the color of my cheeks when my future husband first brushed his lips against mine.

Pink is the color of the flowers at my wedding - flowers that were symbolic to us and our personal story.

Pink is the color of the bleeding hearts in the tiny garden of our first home.

Pink is the color I didn't choose for our nursery because I felt there would be more children in that room and I didn't want to have to repaint.

Pink is the color of each baby's lips as I nursed them and looked into the eyes of someone straight from heaven.

Pink is the color of chubby hands and feet as children grew and wanted independence but still needed me for just about everything

Pink is the color of their favorite shirts when they were little

Pink is the color of the first lip gloss one of my daughters applied skillfully on her own. 

Pink is also the color of breast cancer. Pink - my color now has another meaning. Not one I wanted or would have ever chosen, but one that was thrust upon me. Pink is the color I will now be associated with as a breast cancer patient and survivor now and forever. 

Part of me wants to give up on pink to shout that I have been violated by this monstrosity creeping into me.

Pink is the color of a prom dress I could barely open my eyes to appreciate when I sent one off to prom - because the pink of cancer was taking my strength.

Pink is the color our skin would be had we gone on the vacation we were planning when the pink of breast cancer came crashing into my life.

Pink can mean a lot of things. 

Pink can mean whatever I ascribe to the color - I get to choose. 

Pink could be the rosiness in my cheeks when I feel better and am able to go hike, cave, garden or help a friend. 

I don't have to force myself to wear rose colored glasses, I am good at finding pink along the way, something I will continue to do. Maybe that means I AM wearing the rose colored glasses - but it's something that I am ok with. 

I wonder where I will find my next pink and who will be involved in the story of how pink is still my color.