Bad hair days

Hair has been a sore subject with me these days. I have seen my closest of friends lose her beloved hair, while my own mane just keeps getting more wiry and wavy and a color I just don’t recognize anymore.  I was getting ready to go out to dinner and with the roles reversed, my daughter sat me on the toilet seat and braided my hair.  It felt good to be pampered for a few minutes. I got the same lecture that I always give her. “Mom, let me introduce you to the hairbrush,” as she yanked her way through my knotty birdnest. These days, I haven’t focused very much on beauty and to be honest, I never really have.  I have friends that have not a lick of grey hair, have perfectly moisturized faces and sport the trendiest of looks.  I sport fleece, have years of sun and wind damage to my skin and could very possibly be completely grey by my early forties.  To cope with this, I take pictures of the things I find beautiful.  I like to freeze time if only for a second so beauty will forever remain. Personal vanity has its moments of merit but feels more contrived and less telling of who we are.   Peter got his seasonal sheering today and I decided to lose the Cousin It look myself.  It feels weightless, more bouncy and has lightened my load for the week.  If there were a week to lighten my load, it would be this one. Is this haircut the miracle I have been hoping for? Well, not really. At least it’s a step up from the “do” these ladies wear in this photo. See, there is something to be thankful for every day.