Beautiful Gray
There is a distinct gift that comes with aging. A few people receive this gift prematurely. And although it is valuable, many people “hide it under a bushel.” This particular gift distinguishes us in a delightful and beautiful way. Yet many “seniors” are unaware of its honor. I speak of the gift of gray hair. Gray hair is a highlight of years that emphasizes the fact, or illusion, of wisdom. Without words, it says to the astute seeker of knowledge: “I have valuable experience to share.”
The lady who inspired me to look forward to gray hair was named Ethel Parnell. I was fortunate to have her as a mentor and true friend. I admired her for many reasons, most of all because she was authentic. She could smile and tilt her head in a way that gave her shiny gray hair an almost halo appearance—to my admiring eyes. But it wasn’t until 2001 that I discovered the beauty of gray hair for myself. Up until that time, when my hair began to gray I joined forces with Lady Clairol and fought back. That is what the overwhelmingly majority of women I knew did.
This is how it happened. My son had arranged to take me to New York to celebrate my birthday. I wanted a fresh, new appearance. Is there a better way to change your appearance than to change your hair? The big question was what changes to make. When I arrived at the beauty salon, I consulted my hair stylist, Mae, about what to do with my gray hair that was claiming more and more territory. She offered several choices. I could color it as usual. I could stop coloring it and look skunk. Or, and she recommended that I let her cut my hair in a style of pepper and salt— a style she promised would wow me and others.
Mae had never misled me, so I decide to trust her. I knew she understood my conservatism. Further, when I considered her own quiet elegance, and classy look, not to mention her remarkable styling skills, I agreed to put my hair in her capable hands. I gave her no instructions and told her I didn’t want to see a mirror until she had finished. Then I relaxed in my comfortable chair to await the verdict.
After she finished cutting and styling my hair, she turned my chair around so that I faced the mirror. I was indeed wowed, as she had promised I would be. How could ultra-short, gray hair be so beautiful? Yes, she cut it off! I was in awe. Immediately, I telephoned my son: “My hair is strikingly beautiful. You must see it!” That evening when he feasted his eyes upon the new me, his mouth flew open with a verbal “Wow!”
My new hair style became the star of our New York trip, receiving constant compliments and admiring stares. Several men who didn’t know me said: “Please don’t dye it.” Seventeen years later, my hair is no longer pepper and salt. It went from pepper and salt to salt and pepper, and finally all salt—a gift from God: Beautiful Gray.