It’s starting to seem like spring. Even though it has been a very mild winter around here, it was still winter. Winter with it’s short days and flat light. The lack of snow didn’t help much, the flat winter light just made the gray-brown colors of the grass and trees seem even more bleak and listless. Everything looks so tired in the winter.
Ah, but when spring begins to creep in, sneaking up on us, the days get longer. Suddenly, you realize that it’s not completely dark when you wake up, and not already dark when you leave work. It was like that tonight as I left work, the sun was low in the west, but it was still above the horizon. As I drove home, I noticed the light of the setting sun on the hills above town. It turned even the ugly, winter-bleached hills a warm, reddish-gold color. "The color of rose gold", I thought. Those words suddenly hit me – rose gold.
And I remembered where I knew those words from, "rose gold". Many years ago, after my father died, my mother gave me his old watch. It was a Benrus with a rectangular face and a flexible metal link band. "It’s made of rose gold", she told me. And it was a warm, reddish gold color, a truly beautiful color. The watch didn’t work, though. Still, it was very nice to look at. Mom promised that if she could afford it, she’d have it fixed. She never did, money was always too hard to come by. Repairing an old watch was not a high priority.
Besides, as pretty as it was, the old Benrus watch had belonged to my father. I didn’t really want to think about him. So I tucked the watch into a drawer and only looked at it when I stumbled across it looking for something else. It did catch the eye, that pretty red-gold color. But after a while, I realized I hadn’t seen the watch in a long time. We’d been through many moves, from one apartment to the next in the years since Mom gave it to me. I searched everywhere, but finally realized it was gone. It must have been lost in one of the packing/unpacking cycles.
So there I was, driving home and seeing that warm rose gold color painted on the hills by the falling sun. The old watch, my Mom who never did get it fixed for me, the thoughtless boy who didn’t take care of it very well and a lot of other painful memories. Still, it caught the eye, that pretty reddish gold color. Even the memories could not take away the beauty.
Mom passed away just about this time last year. Rest in Peace, Mom.