We sit in the back row at church. No real reason for this. It just happens that way. So the back of my head of hair has not been an issue—until now.
I was drying my hair after a shower and I happened to see what I thought was a lone stray gray hair swishing at me from the back of my head. Devious little thing. So I thought I would see where it came from and picked up a mirror to check out the back of my front. Do not do this! Do not I say!
I found that I am becoming a blonde a lot faster than what the front of my head of hair has been telling me. I found that before long I will be a palomino instead of a chestnut mare. I found that I had a streak of more gray than I knew was there. Immediately I stomped into the living room and announced to my other half that I am old. Old I say!
He looks up from his AARP magazine and asked how I know I’m all of a sudden old. I turned around pointed at the back of my head and said look, look at what is happening back there! Just look! In his calm, comforting, lovingly way he says to me, with a straight face, “It’s been there a while ya know.” Aarrgh!
I thought I could hear a hiss of air as I was being deflated. Like after a holiday and you unplug those inflatable pumpkins and Santa’s and the like. But plugging me back in was not going to do any good. This is not a female only dilemma. This one encompasses us all at one point. That does not in any way make this step in life any easier to swallow. It still feels like I’ve got a big ole glob of peanut butter stuck in between my mouth and throat.
So I uhummphed and mumbled my way back to the bathroom to gander at my new streak of lightning. Yep, it was still there and the more I looked the bigger it got. I combed and rearranged things back there but the more I worked to not see my new mane, the more I uncovered. I finally understand what my friend was telling me while we were at a funeral some time ago. Standing behind me she leaned over and remarked about the FEW stands of new silvery color that were showing up in my bangs. I told her that I earned every one of them. She laughed and so did I. But now, looking back I do believe she saw many, many more new little friends up there than I was letting myself see. But no more hiding now. No howdy!
I know, by being there when I was born, that I am blabbity blabbity years old. I don’t deny that. But I usually feel tee-hee-hee years old. I will not let some gift on my head from father time take the tee-hee-hee outta me. But there is just so much you can do to cover, hide, shroud or veil the goodies that time leaves for you to find in the mirror.
I don’t believe that men age slower than ladies. I also don’t believe that it is any different for men to see that father time has taken a few steps across their paths either. We all have a little vanity. But the important thing is to keep it a little vanity. I read a story some time ago where four grandmothers, like in there 80’s, were sitting in a dressing room at a swimming pool talking. One noticed and remarked that it was good that with gravity winning the war on things they all had, it was comfortable to finally just let vanity step to the side and talk to each other without the trappings of society. I think I am there with the back of my head. And the front too.
Okay, I will still give a little try to cover up with a braid or maybe swing a swirl of hair from the side and pin it there with a barrette. Oh, and I am sure now that I will continue to sit in the back row at church!
Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Share with her at email@example.com Really!