People notice other people’s hair fairly quickly. It’s part of what one sees in recognizing another person. I have been blessed with a good head of hair, thanks to the genes of my mother. I am reminded of my hair often since it seems to get noticed.
Years ago, I was being introduced as a keynote speaker at a conference and the introducer ended her description of my achievements by saying, “And she has a great head of hair.” I was a little taken back by the comment but decided I should just embrace it, and I have ever since.
Last year I was volunteering at Bear Lake on a Sunday morning. It was snowing pretty hard. A smiling man walked across the bridge to the ranger kiosk and said, “You have a lot of snow in your hair.” “I do?” I asked and reached my hand up to shake it off my brown volunteer stocking cap. He said, “Oh no, it’s your lovely white hair.”
A couple weeks later I was sitting in an airline lounge waiting for my flight back to Denver and one of the employees walked up to me and said, “I just want to tell you how beautiful your hair is.” I gladly took that compliment.
I owe my good hair to my mom. She always had thick hair and although I do remember that she colored it when I was younger, she let it go natural fairly early and had the same progression as mine did from a few strands of gray to what is called “salt and pepper” and eventually gray and then white. White is my color now although it was a little hard to suggest that my drivers’ license should say that instead of gray. My little sister also has hair similar to my mom and me. My middle sister does not. We used to tease her that she had inherited our dad’s hair and someday she would be bald like him. Not popular with her! Since she has stopped coloring, her hair has gradually gone gray, but nothing like mom, me, or my other sister.
I have always liked my hair. I might look younger with darker hair, but I think gray/white hair can be a sign of aging gracefully and accepting the potential of wisdom that it brings. I certainly hope so!
