I am destroyed. My precious angel is dying.

[calimary]

236. I remember when my mom had her first major heart attack, I wore green every day.

I didn't own a lot of green clothing, but by Jove I dug around and wore whatever I could find. A scarf maybe? AHA! Yeah, there's some green in it! Okay! Jewelry counts, too, btw, if you've got a ring or something with a green stone. I bought a couple of shirts in green, too. Anything I could find.

Superstition? Sure. But it was calming for me. Gave me something to focus on. A reminder of sorts. As kind of a "hippie-dippy" weirdo type, I've always appreciated the symbology of color, and what green is believed to connote. It made me feel like I was doing SOMETHING, because otherwise, I just felt so damn helpless. Knew there was NOTHING I could do, concretely, that would make any difference because I've had no medical training or experience whatsoever, outside of the standard Red Cross workshop here and there. Even visiting her in CCU didn't seem sufficient. So I wore green. At home in the evening, I'd light a green candle. Just little superficial things, with no guarantees involved. But she pulled through, and lived another 17 years. For whatever that's worth.