Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Value of a Platinum Head

When a record goes platinum, a recording artist has made it. When a girl is offered a platinum band, she knows her man has chosen well. When your hair turns platinum naturally, you know you are old.

If I were to have cosmetic surgery, it would take years and millions of dollars to rearrange this semblance of aging body into one svelte woman. This aging thing is impossible to chase. It happens when we aren't looking and when least expected descends on us. Last night I decided to pluck an unruly platinum eye brow only to realize that I could not find it without adding my reading glasses over the top of my contacts. Oh, my word.

My grandmother, father and sister all had white hair by the time they were 40. My son is mostly white at 35. My hair gets lighter and lighter with each new hair coloring because the roots on my white hair on top of my head grow out so quickly. Then I look like a blond skunk. Ah, what to do, when to decide to let it grow out naturally.

We sat watching Cathy Rigby fly across the screen as Peter Pan. We were having a lazy day. One of my granddaughters on each side, we sat nestled, watching. After a bit, I noticed Gabby tugging on the loose skin on my elbow. She was petting it like a dogs ear. In fact, I think it might be saggy like a dog's floppy ear. "What's with this?" I thought carefully moving her hand not to draw attention to my aging arms.

I'm thinking of doing away with my full length mirror. And, I don't know why I look better in my mirror at home than I do when I happen to glimpse myself in a store mirror. Argh!

I am really not a vain person. It's just that I didn't know I would get here so fast. And, my grandchildren seem to delight in pointing out a double chin, loose skin on the backs of my hands and creaking knees when I bend down. How did it happen so fast?

If I let my hair go all platinum white, I won't get a platinum hair award. The whitish strands won't even be worth a penny and will be more evident when clinging to a dark shirt. But maybe it will also signal years of a good life, of a happy woman. Maybe it will show my grandchildren that I embrace my age and am proud of the signs of aging. But for right, maybe not.

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