Jason’s cancer is gray. Literally.

The first biopsy of his brain was white—the color of a normal cerebellum. Bright, normal, white neurons.

So deeper they went. The second core was gray. The surgeon knew he was in tumor.

Gray. What an ugly color.

It’s the color of brain tumors.

It’s the color of brain cancer awareness.

Uck.

Depressing.

Gray? Really?

It’s the color of ‘blah,’ the color of walls that are then covered with more beautiful art and photographs, the color of gray skies and foggy mornings, of concrete and steel, of ashes, of gray hair, of meat that sat out too long, of the staples in Jason’s head, and of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. It makes sense, I guess. All are things that make me a little uncomfortable, almost apologetic. Nothing exciting and nothing that I’d want to dwell on, rest in, or have a conversation about.

Not red – a color that is rousing and dramatic. Not black – bold, mysterious, and powerful. Not white – hopeful and clean. Not even pink – friendly and supportive. We get gray – sickly, meh.

So it goes with brain tumors.

“I’ll refresh tired bodies; I’ll restore tired souls.”

Jeremiah 31:25