"I've tried the best I can, but she's just not responding."

Meredith looked at the psychiatrist who was making the bold proclamation about her friend. The doctor pointed towards Trudy, who stood at a food table in the corner. "I asked her to wear a blue dress today. Even picked one out and lay it on the bed for her, but she's just not cooperating"

Trudy looked over at Meredith and her shrink, as if she knew she was being talked about. The dress she was wearing was black. She hadn't stopped wearing black since Ted's funeral.   "Don't people eventually get out of mourning," Meredith asked. "I mean, it's been six years, and she still only wears black. In fact, she's changed most of the furnishing in her house to muted colors, if not black itself. It's like walking into a mausoleum or something."

Dr. Franklin sighed. "Normally, yes, but some people can't let go. They feel that if they are doing a disservice to the memory of their loved ones if they try to move on."

"But she seems so happy, or at least, well adjusted," Meredith said.   Trudy was not standing among a group of women, smiling and laughing. Though the acts themselves were muted, a small smile, and just the whisper of a laugh, they seemed sincere. "If she was truly mourning, wouldn't she be unable to even smile?"

"The mourning process is different for everyone. With Trudy, it seems she is trying to adjust back to a normal routine, at least. But since her husband's death, I can't get her to stop wearing black."

Trudy left the circle of women, and joined her Meredith and Dr. Franklin. "How are you doing? I'm so glad you could make it to my dinner party."

"I'm well, thank you," Dr. Franklin said. "But I thought we agreed you would wear a blue dress tonight, to provide a more festive mood."

Trudy smiled a sad smile. "Yes. Blue was Ted's favorite color. I thought I would do well to honor him by wearing blue tonight."

Dr. Franklin sighed. "But you're wearing the same dress you wore to his funeral."

Trudy nodded. "Yes. Ted always did love me in blue."

Dr. Franklin glanced over at Meredith, then excused himself to talk to another group of Trudy's friends.

Meredith looked at her friend, then gave her a hug. "We're just worried about you, that's all."

Trudy returned the hug, then leaned back from her friend. "I appreciate the thought, but you must know that I'm okay. Really. Things are a bit different now that Ted is gone, but I'm still alive, and still love him, and that's what matters."

"But other women who loose loved ones... Well, they seem more engaged in life. I'm not saying that you're abnormal, but, well, I'm just worried that you aren't adjusting."

Trudy looked at her friend, a slight puzzled look on her face, "whom are you comparing me to."

Meredith shook her head. "Its not a comparison thing. But, well, Annabelle, there. She lost her husband last year, but she's out at your dinner party, and she is, like Dr. Franklin put in the invitation, wearing blue."

Trudy looked over at the red-haired woman talking to Dr. Franklin. The dress Annabelle was wearing was a pale blue with white accents. Trudy shook her head. "It's different. Annabelle didn't truly love her husband."

Meredith sighed. "How can you say that?"

"I know. And if you ever loose someone you truly love, heaven forbid, you'll understand."

****

The accident that took the life of Meredith's lover was caused by a reckless driver loosing control of his car on a rainy road. Meredith, who had shared her life with Carrie for seven short years, was devastated.

For the first week she did not leave her house, except to attend the services that Carrie's parents had arranged.   She curled around the urn that contained her lover's ashes, and cried.

When she finally accepted the idea that Carrie was gone, Meredith knew she had to move on with her life. Her continued mourning would only make Carrie sad, and she was truly grateful for the years they had together.

Trudy was the first to visit after the services. She entered Meredith's house, which was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn. She gave Meredith a hug, and held her for several minutes, then held her at arms length. "Are you okay?"

Meredith gave a smile so small, it may have passed unnoticed by someone not looking for it. "Yes. And I understand." She gestured down to her black pantsuit. "Carrie always loved me in red." Trudy nodded, and gave her a small smile in return.   The friends felt their loss of loved ones, persons whom they had loved with all their heart and soul, only added to their understanding of one another.

They both accepted they had to move on, but life without their soul mates seemed too bright, too hectic.   The small smiles they managed to share with each other and others was the most they could smile without feeling like they were smiling ridiculously big.

And while everyone in town talked about the pair of women who wore nothing but black, Trudy and Meredith could see the colors in the darkness, the subtle shades of black that others missed were muted enough colors to not seem garish and larger than life. Trudy often wore the blue dress she wore to Ted's funeral, but also chose purples and greens on days she especially wanted to celebrate life. But only Meredith understood.

They had known true love, and the loss of that made them more aware of life. Every nuance of life was enhanced and magnified for them. While they never said it to anyone, they knew that only the two of them truly knew how precious life was, and were grateful for every day.