The Perfect Stranger on a Gray Day

Today was a beautiful day in the sunny south. I was in the yard gardening and enjoying it immensely, when a lady and her dog were walking by. I was close to the edge of the yard and we mutually said hello and began to chat ...

I was wearing old jeans and pretty much gardening clothes and no makeup and hair to the wind - going gray, oh my gosh what a chore that is --

and then the talk hit on grandchildren. She has a new grand-baby, 2 months old, and I told her about my (darling) granddaughter, 2 years old and she said,

"You look to young to be a grandmother!" (wow)

What a nice thing to say to me!

Since I have decided to let my hair go gray, I have really been struggling with what I see in the mirror. And, I have noticed two groups of women come forth. The ones who don't care about growing gray and think I am an immature baby. And the ones who say, no way and think I'm pretty much crazy to entertain the idea and good luck with that.

It's been such a process of waiting, waiting, waiting. Since I am a (retired) hairdresser by trade, coloring my hair has been something I've always fooled around with and cutting it myself is something I've been doing for over thirty years. Actually, I fooled around with coloring my hair since before I became a hairdresser! Come to think of it, my mother started coloring my hair when I was twelve!

(Oh and the reason I cut my hair myself is that since I always complained about whatever hair cut I got, my husband said, just do it yourself and then you don't have anyone to blame but yourself - so there, that solved that).

So, anyway, I completely stopped coloring my hair in August of this year. While I was coloring my hair, I thought my hair grew at a rapid speed. It seemed to need coloring every time I turned around! Now, since I have stopped coloring my hair, I feel like my hair grows at the oldest snail's pace.

I cut it shorter in August, lopped off 7 inches and nobody noticed. And then shorter. And then shorter than shorter. Then, it was to full on the sides, and then to fat in the back, and then to un-this or un-that, so blah, blah, blah, I haven't got something on my head I like yet...but another thing that is happening is that the texture of the new hair (old gray hair) is different than the texture of the color treated hair, so as it grows I am dealing with a complete unknown.

Oh well...life does go on. And in the midst of it, a perfect stranger comes up to me in my yard and tells me I look to young to be a grandmother. I was wearing sunglasses, so, maybe she didn't really get a good look, or maybe all people who are gardening look young, I dunno...

My hair may look worse but my yard looks better.
So. There we are.

And here is a website on going gray. Can you believe that? How going gray became modern day trauma, I do not know. I just know I'm in it, but I am making no promises as far as to what I will do once it's all gray. The challenge of just getting there is enough for me right now.

To know how to grow old is the master-work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living. ~Henri Amiel

You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely. ~Ogden Nash