On a windy day, I posted a picture of the wind
blowing my hair around and labeled it “A Bad Hair Day.” It wasn’t long before a
comment popped up that said, “Is gray a color?”
After thinking about that comment, I came to the
conclusion that gray is much more than a color. Gray is a badge of courage that
honors life’s worries, sorrows, disappointments, and heartaches. Gray hair and
wrinkles represent the trauma of death, loss of love, and a big loss of self.
After being widowed twice, I’ve earned my gray.
When a woman wears her hair its natural color and
doesn’t spend hours of her life arranging every hair in place, she is saying
she is comfortable with who she is. She isn’t trying to impress anyone.
If a woman wants to dye her hair, Botox her face,
have a pedi mani, or anything else to make herself more beautiful, I say, “Good
for her.” Her goals and mine are not the same. She can be a sister of my heart,
and I’m proud of her for taking pride in her appearance.
I can clean up once in awhile, but I’m realistic.
After living seven decades, what you see is what you get. Through years of
marriage, or togetherness, couples see each other at their worst and at their
best.
I spent fifteen years of my life as a caregiver,
and I’ll admit that I’m worn to the nubbins. Lately, I’ve been treading water,
and I’m a long way from the shore. Sometimes, I think I’m going to drown, but I
put on my big girl panties and keep on moving forward.
Another thing I’ve noticed about reaching a
certain age is it is practically impossible to hurt my feelings. I may care
about your opinion, but most likely, I don’t.
I look for moments of joy: playing my ukulele,
spending time with my family who loves me warts and all. Sometimes, serendipity
leads me to explore something new.
After a dental appointment, I needed to go by the
bank, but traffic kept me from turning left. I decided to go with the flow and
made a right hand turn so that I could turn around in the mall parking lot.
Considering my attention span, I thought while I was at the mall…
Thirty minutes later, I walked out of Gene’s Boots
and Hats with both items mentioned in the store’s name. A new Stetson and a
pair of Ariat boots stowed in my truck, I completed the trip to the bank.
The boot purchase showcases my optimistic side. I
am confident that the arthritis infusions will clear up the pain in my Achilles
heels. The hat, well, I just wanted one since I’m not sure where my original
Resistol hat is.
I’m also optimistic that our family band will be
able to play music again. We are on a break due to health problems. With age
comes wisdom, gray hair, wrinkles, and a team of specialists to keep us in
pretty good shape for the shape we’re in.
Music and singing are magical when it comes to
traversing the winding road of life. Whenever I pick up my ukulele, I find
peace and happiness whether I’m playing for an audience or for my dog.
Life is too short and too uncertain to worry more
about outward appearance than spiritual serenity. Gray is the color that
provides a backdrop for the colorful rainbow of promise.
Copyright ©April 2025 by
L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
#ENDALZ