Letter to Old Friend: What is your favorite color? Mine is red.


By Heinrich


Dear friend,

For as long as I can remember, my favorite color has been red. I was never sure where it came from. I was never sure why I picked it.

When I was younger the shade of red I preferred was vibrant and bold, words I would use to describe a younger me. That vibrant and bold kid was the captain of the basketball team, the top of the class, never afraid of being heard and never allowing anyone to ignore her.

My parents used to tell me that they knew how to find me in the chaos of the basketball court because of my vibrant red shoes. A bold choice in the midst of the black and white my teammates wore.

As I grew older, that shade of red darkened. I was asked recently what my favorite color was and I described it as a “blood red.” A tad dramatic, I know, and a few steps away from the vibrant and bold shade of my youth.

Perhaps, I figured out as I grew older that some shades of red are hard to match within outfits. Perhaps, I found that I no longer wanted to stick out. Perhaps, I was not so bold and vibrant anymore.

But as I write this letter, I am still wearing red.

My pajama bottoms are in that “blood red” shade and my slippers are the same. As I look around my room, I realize that though I did not know where my favoritism for red came from, it is definitely still my favorite.

Recently, I lost my grandmother. My lola. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in January and though most people who are unfortunate enough to receive that diagnosis live for another month or two, she held on for four.

As my mom and I were walking around Walmart to shop for groceries because though we wanted it to, life did not stop after she died, my mom reminded me of something.

We stopped next to the pile of clothes near the entrance and she started crying.

“Who am I going to buy red shirts for now?”

In an effort to cheer her up, I said,

“Me, of course.”

And that is when it hit me. How could I forget? How could I forget why I chose red in the first place?

My lola.

Of course it was my lola. How did I forget that when they got a new car when I was four, we chose that color together? We chose that bold and vibrant red.

If anyone asks me what my favorite color is now, I will rescind my previous answer of the dramatic “blood red” and go back to my old answer.

I will tell them of that vibrant and bold red that is hard to match with anything in my closet and will make me stand out, but is still my favorite.

Because as much as I have grown in the past few years, I wish to go back to being that bold and vibrant kid.

I want to be as unafraid as I used to be. I want to be as loud as I used to be. I never want to allow anyone to ignore me.

I wish to be just vibrant and bold as my lola was.

Sincelerly,

Your friend