June 5, 2013 | 980 views
Column: Writing on the Wall
The anatomy of gray
Hair today ...
Throughout our lives, along with our major life choices, most of us make smaller changes along the way — our clothes, our choice of drink ( say, from a shot of Southern Comfort to an apple-pear cardboard juice box). Yum. We change our music preferences (somewhat), start eating cauliflower and tofu, and even use sunscreen with an SPF of 1000. We check for moles, lumps, bumps, holes and strange fleshy growths they call “skin tags.” Hair grows out of places that we never even imagined. Knees creak, muscles weaken, and yet we think, we hope, we’re aging gracefully — until, that is, we catch our reflections in the mirror and wonder, “how did I turn into my mother or, gasp, my grandmother?”
If you know me at all (and if you’ve read my “reveal” columns for the last few years, you probably do) you know that I always go back to the basics. I experienced natural childbirth four times, and breastfed all four of my children for different lengths of time — often to the disapproval of the elite know-it-alls whose children, by the way, didn’t turn out any better than mine. So there. And you know that I publicly talk about my trials and tribulations without any shame, or rather, I share my shame and wear my heart on my sleeve.