Growing Old

Let's take a moment to talk about one of those semi-embarrassing things that happens to all of us. 

Yes, that's right.  Gray hair.

This morning, my husband shared with me that he was getting gray hair.  His disappointment permeated the room look a foul odor.  He is naturally bald on top.  Sorry, I mean naturally dirty blond.  A few gray hairs are going to be noticeable to NOBODY in the world, except him.

Sure, he probably thought that having a large bald spot on top of his head since he was in his 20 would somehow preclude him from ever turning gray.  I suppose we can't all be so lucky as to have only one hair debacle in our life time.

I'm so sorry. I remember how depressing it was to find my first gray hairs.  That was my loving, caring wife response.  Well...that would have been my response if I'd have dug into the sensitive, sympathetic pocket this morning.

Instead, I was overcome with a sense of giddiness and asked for proof!

As I stood looking at his beautiful, shiny gray hair, I smiled and giggled.  Even in bad lighting, I could find only 2.   Two gray hairs that blended so well into blond that I could barely see them.  Oh my, where was my empathy?

My husband is 47.  That's only 3 years shy of 50.  He's nearly 50 and finding his first gray hair.  He sees having to wear glasses and finding gray hair means he is inching ever closer to the grave.  Hasn't he heard that 50 is the new 20?  Oops, maybe that's what I'm supposed to be telling him instead of laughing at his gray hair.

I am 10 years younger than my husband.  I was in my 20's when I found my first gray hair.  Oh that day sits in my memory as one of those icky milestones you wished hadn't come so soon.  I was at a conference and was standing in front of a mirror.  There was a perfect combination of natural light and florescent light.  As I caught a sparkle in my hair, I brushed off the idea it was anything more than healthy, shiny hair. 

During the next restroom break, I stood in front of mirror with dread.  The terrible florescent lighting in those restrooms made the gray stand out like it was neon.  I quickly pulled two hairs, took a deep breath and returned to my conference with the two hairs in my hand. 

I'm not really sure what I was thinking keeping them.  Irrationally, I probably thought that if I held onto them, they would never find their way back and somehow reattach.

I was familiar with the old wives tale about pulling out gray would cause two to grow back in their place.  So a month later, I took a deep breath and took a long look.  Nope, it was just a myth.  Only the two I had previously pulled were there. Whew!

Something has obviously gone terribly wrong over the past 10 years.  They have multiplied.  Never two out of the same place, but randomly all over my head.

As my husband pointed out this morning, I color mine.  That's right!  The old wives tale about red heads having wiry, nasty gray hair is absolutely 100% true.  It also doesn't take color very well, which usually leads taking extreme measures when I get a hint of insecurity about it.

That's right, I will eventually break down and get some professional done blond highlights even though I hate them.  I have to.  My only other option is pulling them.

Oh my, pulling them is a daunting process.  Even though I grab the tweezers and stand at the mirror with what has to be my own version of super hero music playing in my head, I never get them all.  I don't even get a portion of them.  I usually only get the wiry, crazy ones right in front.

Thankfully, my naturally curly hair hides them well for now.  However, I have been working on a mental strategy to deal with them.  As I shared with my husband this morning, I try not to look at my gray hair as a sign of aging.  In fact, I am trying to look at them as a well-deserved sign of perfection. 

Once I am completely gray, there will be nothing left to achieve (in the hair world, that is).   Each gray hair puts me that much closer to achieving perfection.  Hey, I didn't say it was a good strategy!  But evidently, you think crazy things like that the younger you are when you find your first gray hair.

If genetics are at play for my husband, he probably doesn't have to worry about going completely gray.  Neither of his parents are completely gray at all.  His mom has two gray spots on the back of her head.  His dad is just now salt-n-pepper gray in his mid 70s. 

I think the best part of all of this is that even though I'm 10 years younger than my husband....I'm growing old with him.  Gray or not, we're growing old together.  That just makes me smile.