Before the pandemic even began, at least before we in Canada were made aware of it, I had decided to let my gray hair come in. I told you all about my decision to embrace my gray hair, almost one full year ago.
A year later and my hair is totally white, it was pretty much so by July. My hair grows very fast; I have been cutting it myself since that last salon visit. Luckily I have a bit of wave in my hair so it is very forgiving when I mess up with the scissors and thinning shears.
These pictures show the transition from reddish brown to pure white. The five adorable kids are just props. For some reason, I cannot resist smiling from ear to ear when they are around.
I must admit, I do like the fuss-free white look, even without makeup on to brighten my complexion. I cannot remember the last time I wore makeup; this pandemic has really shortened my morning routine. Shower, a dab of leave-on conditioner, tousle and done. The gray hair has grown on me, literally, in more ways than one. No more worrying about trying to disguise the white roots that always seemed to grow in so fast.
Most of my grandkids have forgotten the red-brown look, or in the case of our pandemic-born grandson, never knew it. My three year old granddaughter saw an old picture of me the other day and said “who’s that?” My seven year old granddaughter does remember the old me, but recently asked “why would you dye your hair?” Two of the boys are much too young to remember and the four year old could care less. At least he hasn’t mentioned it.
The transition to gray hair is still new to me; every time I see a reflection or picture of myself I am taken aback at how much I look like my father. Which is a good thing as I miss him and my mother so much. I hope you are smiling down at the new me, Dad.