To the Root of the Matter

In my previous post I wrote that I had been up to spend time with my mom. We had a good visit; she recognized me two days out of three, which is a good result, as far as I am concerned.  I came back newly charged up to find a way to move her down here, and I am glad to report that I got her onto a waiting list for a place very near by.  Whether or not I can get her the financial aid she will require is another matter. 

During this visit with Mom, as always, several people told me I look just like her. I used to reply laughingly that if they didn't stop saying that, I was going to stop coming!  I don't see the resemblance, but many apparently do.  That's OK. My mom, age 78 and despite years of smoking cigarettes, has lovely skin, and I hope mine will hold up as well.

I also took a good look at her hair this time around.  (I wrote before that I was slowing down and taking a better look at everything around me, and here's another example!)

It's not all white, more salt and pepper, with some silver woven in.  So I start to wonder if I look so much like her now, will my hair age like hers did? Her mom had nearly all black hair until she died, with very little silver in it.  As my hair stands right now, underneath the color job I last had done a few weeks ago, I see that my hair is mostly dark -- some color between black and brown that I can't really name -- with some silver woven in. I also have some pretty striking white hair at my temples.

When I worked, I worried more about coloring my hair because I have always thought roots looked pretty skanky, despite what the younger generation allows itself to look like. After I got 'retired,' I let my natural color grow out for a while, but I didn't like it, so I went back to coloring it.  Someone else wrote that she colors her hair so as not to be 'invisible,' and it made me wonder why I still color mine.

The simple answer is that it looks prettier when I do.

One day, when my hair has made its transition to that beautiful white that I now see at my temples, I will let it all be white (although how I am going to make that transition, I have no idea.) I have two men friends, Mike and Ken, whom I've known since both were much younger and blonder. Both now have beautiful white hair.  Pop, also, has lovely white hair, and if mine looks as good as theirs does, I'll gladly wear the white. 

Until then, I'll keep working to keep my hair the color it was when I was in high school: not because I think it makes me look younger -- I am not fooling anyone -- and not because I feel invisible otherwise.

It just looks prettier to me, and that ought to be good enough!