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Wednesday, 05 September 2012

Hair Today

By Joanne Zimmermann

A few hairs fell on my vanity, then some more. It must be seasonal, I reasoned. Of course more grey and white poked through and the texture seemed coarser.

My hair has always been naturally curly but as it thinned, there did not seem to be enough to bounce anymore. Some hairs seemed wiry, sticking out at odd angles.

It could be my thyroid, I thought. Off to the blood lab but thyroid was fine. As my face wrinkled and sagged, I still had my youthful hair to hide under. Almost no one guessed my age.

I should be happy my hair’s age matches the rest of me, I suppose. Every morning I have a bed head - you know, kind of a bare spot poking through. Now I have several. I try to fluff and mousse and turn my head upside down just to cover those spots.

I trimmed more off, reasoning that if it was shorter I had less to cause trouble. Wrong, I just had less and looked worse if that was possible.

Some ladies I knew seemed to magically cross from that stage to pure white, and without processing, their hair seemed to recover. I tried not coloring, just conditioning. More fell out.

Sometimes I would just say, well who cares?

Now we know that is a lie; everyone seems to notice. My partner is bald – well, almost. He maintains a white fringe and neat moustache and beard. He looked that way when I met him and now I think he just looks handsome.

I envision myself that way, hairs appearing more on chin, upper lip and less on top. No, no, no!!! I awoke from the nightmare.

Wigs, hairpieces, extensions are offered in a thousand colors and styles. But he is encouraging; saying just let it go natural.

Somewhere I read about a lady who had three hairs left, so she braided it. One morning there were two so she parted it. When there was only one, she let it hang in a ponytail. How brave and realistic.

Is there life without hair care? I should really feel on the brink of complete freedom. It will be cheaper, simpler and I, self-assured, will proudly step forth with my chin up and a smile on my face.

And to those of you who have lost your hair through chemotherapy, my hat is off to you and a 21-hair salute!! You are the real heroines and heroes of the world. As Johna has taught us, less is more (words, not hair).

Hair is history
Partner loves ME
That is the mystery

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


You do have a problem. Maybe your companion is right, just let it go. But if he's as nice as you say, he will probabley be happy & proud of which ever way YOU decide is best

Thank God, I haven't outgrown the stage of ladies wearing hats/caps and gloves for dress up, chores about town or at home. Cuts down costs at hair salons, protects my nails and warms wrinkly hands.

I've tried many things, but nothing works, so I just keep it short am glad that all I have to do in the morning is run my fingers through the remaining instead of a comb. Just think of all the energy I am saving for writing, not hair salons, etc. Also loved your short is often better tale.

It has been a long time since the person who cuts my hair has run her/his fingers through it with the remark, "You have such lovely, thick, healthy hair. What shall we do with it today?"
Seems like now they try to hide behind their chair and hope I move on to the next cubicle. I read somewhere that hair goes through a regular "falling out" period then new hair grows in. My body has given in to gravity at many sagging sites (enough said.) No one ever told me that hair, too, succumbed to gravity action. But the action is permanent. Instead of hanging on like the other parts, it gives up, falls out and never comes back.
Thoroughly enjoyed your "hair" tale.

Michigan Grandma

Joanne, I am going to dress in pink...to match my scalp!
Good to know, I'm not alone.

Thankfully, I have LOTS of hair. However, one time when I was in NC visiting a beauty shop for my daughter's sake, I decided to have my hair cut,too,as I watched to see if they were cutting her hair properly. The hairdresser kept commenting on my "pretty hair". But when she finished and I looked in the mirror, I was scalped and looked like a boy. I was so upset that I made my daughter drive to another town so that I could buy a wig. I guess that's vanity, huh?

It's my hairdresser who held back tears the last time she cut my hair. My mother died on her 45th birthday, so I've always considered it an honor and unexpected gain as I ticked off each year beyond 45. I proudly tell my age, 62, and I don't mind the wrinkles. I do mind the balding pate, however. I'm not certain what I'm going to do.

For many years my hair made me look younger than I was, but now it's catching up. I have streaks no beauty shop would have done (on purpose anyway!)and my bathroom floor must be swept three times more often due to fallout. I have no bald spots, but I have developed a cow-lick in back -- takes more time to cover than you would believe. I would welcome white hair, but instead I have salt and pepper, but I'm not gonna waste any money on covering it -- my face belies my age. It used to be that teenage boys would approach me from behind in the mall, only to be very embarrassed to see that I was actually old. I'd just laugh then, but it is actually a little sad now to know that no one will approach me, not the old or the young. I'm getting used to it, but it will take a little while longer to really reconcile myself to it.

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