Published: March 17, 2009 05:48 pm      

GESENHUES: An age old story

The time between when I have to dye my roots to hide my gray is getting shorter. Either my hair is growing faster than ever or the gray is winning a battle I’ve been fighting since 30. It drives me crazy. I feel like I’m on a losing team and the opponent is tricky and in better shape than me. The gray hairs keep popping up out of the blue (gray?) when I thought I had them covered.

This week, I considered letting it go. What would I look like if I let my gray grow out? It was a moment of ridiculous weakness in the anticipation of having to undergo another 45 minutes with my head covered in goopy L’Oreal deep brown hair dye No. 46. I knew exactly what I would look like — about 20 years older than I am now.

I’m 35 for another four months. My 30s have been so much easier than my 20s that I’m pretty sure my 40s will be effort-free. I’m not one who moans about aging or tries to fight it. I don’t foresee see any lasers or scalpels removing facial lines. Although, I won’t say never, as the whole “never say never” rule was one of those life lessons I learned a long time ago. I color my hair because I’m what I consider a prematurely gray-haired lady.

My hair started turning gray before I had kids. (My grandmother always told me I was advanced for my age.) It used to be a patch of gray that was at the start of my part. That patch has taken over my entire head at this stage of the game.

This month, I noticed my roots during an overnight stay at the hospital with my 4-month-old son. We had to stay a few days at Kosair so that he could receive antibiotics via an IV because of an ear infection that went haywire. You would think such circumstances would have a mom pondering the delicate nature of life and how fragile, yet simultaneously resilient, we all are, even at four-months old.

But not me. My thought? “I can’t believe I have to dye my hair AGAIN! And I won’t even get to do it until this weekend because I’m sure Kosair has some kind of rule about never dyeing your hair in your 4-month-old baby boy’s hospital room.” (Unless Kosair follows the never say never rule as well; although, it doesn’t seem like it should apply in this case.) I ignored my roots for those days and hoped my son didn’t notice them and confuse me with one of his grandmothers.

It’s aging. We all do it, and most of us wish there were things about it we could do differently. My plan is to try and savor the entire process. Besides the premature aging of my hair, I’ve enjoyed all that aging has done for me. It has taken most of the anxiety and desperation out of my life. It has helped me see the whole picture instead of agonizing over the details. It teaches and soothes and reminds me of what’s important versus what’s not worth worrying about.

At the end of this week, after spending days in a children’s hospital, I’ve been hanging out at another hospital where my 80-year-old grandfather is staying. He is not doing well and probably will not make it out of the hospital this time. While the death of an old man is not a tragic event, it is still sad for all of us who love him. My grandfather used to take me for rides on his Harley and bought me root beer floats whenever we were together. One weekend he picked me up from my house for a surprise trip. We ended up touring Graceland; one of my best road trips ever and I wasn’t even a teenager.

My grandfather still has a full head of hear and it is not gray or silver. It’s a beautiful shiny white. The same white I remember it being when he used to hold me on his lap. I sat beside his hospital bed the other night holding his hand and softly patting his hair atop his forehead. I thought about how lucky I will be if all I have to worry about at the end of my aging process is a few gray hairs. I hope by then, my hair will be the same shiny white as my grandfather’s. If I am fortunate enough to inherit his hair color, I wouldn’t think twice about covering it with deep brown dye. I will let it grow long and wispy and wear shirts that say, “I’m 80 and love it.”