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  6. That sounds familiar… I went through a rainbow of color over the years. Now I’m just mostly gray, though the hair which remains long from 18 years ago, is brownish. I also stopped coloring, and cutting, but it somehow is still getting shorter. I’ve taken to wearing caps a lot. πŸ™‚ What I like most about who looks back at me in the mirror, is that I see that I do look like my mom. I’m happy with that.

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  7. Standing in line at the Post Office this AM. I had made copies of photos taken together for a visiting friend and wanted to get them delivered to her door by the time she arrived home. It was a long line: Four grey ponytails, two wild free fizzes of white, an applaud worthy mane to the waist of white streaked gray/black hair. One pink, one purple, and five brown, blonde cascade of tresses. Four beautiful black heads tossing hair of Spanish, Native American, Asian and African hair I always wanted and had no genes for. Standing there knowing my decision to no longer color and cut my hair is a good one. Whatever happens next and last, it will look like me.

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  9. I’d seen him a few times over the last decade, at least, with his long gray locks, though doing other songs of his. I had not seen him do this wonderfully iconic story 40 years later. I must admit, given my own gray mane, it was, and often is a strange relief when I see that.

    May your day be joyous!

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