Rainbow Dancing on the Oregon Coast.
Imagine what it’s like to see the beginning and end of a rainbow. I’d never thought of the possibility nor examined the likelihood, but when my daughter pointed it out as we drove down Hwy 6, I must admit I was fascinated, giddy even. Spurts of rain and glimpses of sunshine danced on the horizon as we made our way westward to a family wedding on the Oregon coast.
She noted, gleefully, the earth’s show of color and made sure to tell me we had just passed the beginning of a rainbow. I was lost listening to Tekno seek permission to enjoy himself, if you will, from his now worldwide following. As has become customary and fashionable for most teenagers, my daughter flicked her Earpod out of her left ear to bring my attention to mother earth showing off the best of herself. “Mummy, look a rainbow. Oh wow, and it’s the beginning of the rainbow too.” Rainbows make you happy, at least so I hope. She was right; it was indeed the beginning of the rainbow. I glanced, and I saw that familiar concave sprout from the ground, or so it seemed.
I did notice the vibrant burst of color and curvature rising from alongside a bale of hay left for the dead of winter. We were driving past a farm, and the ground looked cold and hard, covered with wet and whimpered straws, markers of what nature does to reconstruct itself for the vibrancy of upcoming spring.
Eyes on the road. Cruise control is a thing, but it’s not everything, so I fixed my gaze back on the highway. At that moment, I contemplated rotating my playlist to some music she might have liked, but I sensed it didn’t matter to her what songs came through the Harmon Kardon. She frolicked with the songs on her phone, so I kept my beats going and sang along to a tune about hoping in Maseratis.
The Afrobeats consumed my thoughts for the next few minutes, and I trailed them happily. I wondered if I’d hear these same vibes at my cousin’s wedding. We were headed west for his momentous occasion, and for a little while, I drifted into an enthralling mental space that confirmed for me, it’s going to be, just as I had imagined, a blessed union. I mean, I saw a rainbow, the beginning of a rainbow at that, on my way to his wedding. I almost laughed at my resignation to the superstitious thoughts that colored my childhood in Africa. Vivid memories of my mother opened me up to the family’s painful realities and, ultimately, ideas about loyalty, integrity, principles, and character. We all have a smidge in many iterations of such nuanced realities in our families. Love and hate, war and pain, misalignments, intrusions, rolling into sometimes empathy, and possibly forgiveness.
Seventy miles an hour, cruise control on lock, Emmerson’s 9 Lives on blast, my mind wandering through instances of how humans can be vile and spiteful and petty and mean. How so very often we distort truths in perfect synchrony with our wicked and twisted ways. We slander and vilify with impunity and for little gain — a following, support, control, insecurity, you name it. See, I headed to the wedding out of respect for love and in celebration of it, but prior happenstance indicated undertones of betrayal and slander on my character. I am a sucker for love, though; yes, I mean love of family. I respect bonds, and I hold them sacred. I’ve also been able to parse relationships and categorize them. I don’t curate unnecessary connections. My affiliation is solely reliant on my independent, isolated interaction with a person. I make no judgments on statistics, cumulative thoughts, or accrued emotions from another, so I couldn’t let others’ negativity get in the way of the bond between him and me. Since the day we came to know each other, my cousin has loved me, and I have loved him. I knew from the many attempts he’d made to call me during the week, and when we finally spoke a few days before his wedding, it would mean the world to us both if I could attend. That was all that mattered. I drove steadily into an unpredictable family situation that could go well or plummet into a disaster, but relentlessly, doggedly, I was cruising on the highway because of my love; for family. I was going to be there to witness his joy in its entirety.
Still cruising, and by this point teary-eyed, yet resolved, I see my daughter perk up again out of the corner of my eye. Ear pod snapped off, her long dainty fingers waving and positively more spirited than before, “Mummy, it’s the end, the end, wow, the end of the rainbow!” Yes, it was. She didn’t imagine the almost impossible. It was, indeed, what seemed like the other end of the rainbow. I glanced again at the absolute marvel of all of the colors curving into the water. We were driving past a swampy area filled to the brim and reminiscent of the mangroves at the place of my birth, western Sierra Leone. I saw the arch of that cornucopia of colors disappear into the swamps, carrying with it what little doubt I had about attending the wedding. I could have sworn that in my moments adrift in thought; I’d heard my mother’s constant appeal for rising above the fray, her steady pursuits of harmony, and her strict loathing for all that would drag her family name into disrepute. She’d have urged me to soldier on despite the negativity. I keep my focus squarely on upholding the respect that my cousin has shown me and honoring the bond that we share. I keep my eyes on the road, refocused my gaze, and sped on. The rainbow was my signal.
I didn’t look for the pot of gold or hold out hope for the leprechaun, even though my daughter jokingly alluded to the manifestation of that superstition. I held on, instead, to the reassurance of the light of the rainbow. I knew I was doing the right thing. In the face of detractors, even when all of the chips don’t lie in your favor, you must not fear walking alone, and especially on the side of morality. Where life feeds you with each golden opportunity to choose between right and wrong, choose the former. It’s never an easy path, and though the solitude may hurt, it shall surely beat the stench from caving into vitriol or indecency. Stand for truth, walk its course, and if you are lucky, like me, you’ll get to see beautiful beginnings as well as enthralling ends of much more than delightful rainbows. So much more, and here’s to continued blessings on their union. Rainbows abound.
