The Inevitable

Last night, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror mindlessly brushing my teeth.  I watched my reflection, took in my tired eyes and my unruly end-of-the-day curls.  My gaze lingered there on the top of my head where my hair parts on the left side, not really seeing anything at all, thinking of a thousand other things.  Suddenly my eyes caught a glimmer of something and I was snapped back into the present moment.

What is that? 

With focus now, I hurriedly finished brushing my teeth.  I leaned toward the mirror, inching closer and closer until my nose was only inches from the glass.  I carefully inspected, slowly turning my head to the left and then to the right.

No!  No, no, no, no!

There was no denying it now.  Maybe I should have turned away and ignored that first glance.  But no, I had to satisfy my curiosity.  And now, as much as I wanted to refute it, the evidence stared plainly back at me.

A gray hair.  My first gray hair.

Of course, I did what any normal person would do.  I reached up and with a quick jerk the intruder was cast out.  The evidence was gone but the damage was already done.  I knew it was there and I knew it would return. 

Now, I am left with the knowledge that somewhere, lying in wait is an unwanted interloper.  What to do until it rears its ugly head again is at the forefront of my thoughts.  The way I see it, there are two courses of action to be considered.

First, live a life of denial and chase after my lost youth by getting some edgy multicolored hairstyle. Perhaps something like this:

Second, embrace my aging with grace by cutting my hair and dyeing it an airy shade of periwinkle.  I am considering this look: