Aging Happens

Look at this.

And this.

Yes folks. That is gray hair you see. Lots and lots of gray hairs. Too many to keep pulling out every morning. I guess it's time to face reality. I'm aging.

But I'm only 26!!

So is Miss Lively here. Think she has gray hair?

Gray hair is for old people. You know, like people in their fifties.

                                 

       

Er....maybe their sixties?

Okay, okay, seventy. Seventy is REALLY old, right?

Ah, Mick. Say it ain't so!

So after this very scientific study of what aging looks like, I have come to the conclusion that I'm allowed to do all the aging I want...once I hit seventy.

Which is why my gray hair is a problem. A genetic problem. Apparently my great grandma was completely silver by fifty.

That might have been okay back in her day, but I'm pretty sure I should just be entering my thirties at that point if Miss Williams up there is any indication.

So what's a girl to do?

I suppose I could just dye my hair for the next 44 years and then "surprise" everyone at my 70th birthday party.

Ta-da! It's gray! Been that color for the last 20 years! Suckers!

But, once I've been dying my hair a rich auburn for 45 years, I might as well take my secret to the grave, right?

The thing is, I swore off dye several years ago after it nearly destroyed my hair. 

So now I have to ask. Is aging really that bad? Will gray hair change who I am? Does it somehow make me less valuable as a person?

Maybe those gray hairs can be embraced. 

Yeah I'm going gray. You know what those gray hairs mean? 

I've lived. Really lived. I've birthed babies and moved around the country. I worried about a sudden job loss and rejoiced over blessings that came just in time. I've celebrated siblings' and friends' marriages. Mourned their children gone too soon. I've loved, connected, left, learned, and loved again.

If all of that living comes along with some (or a lot) of gray hair, so be it.