White Hair (or Coming of Age)
For years, I’ve waited for my first strand of white hair. I found it yesterday evening (how appropriate, as I approach my 48th year). How did I feel? For one thing, it looked out of place on my head – not just because it’s white, but because, for some reason, it’s wavy against my straight dark hair.
Was it cause for celebration? More like cause for reflection. I found myself asking what do I have to show for all my years. Not much, sad to say.
And what did I do with that single strand of wavy white hair? I plucked it out and threw it away.
If there’s any truth in that Chinese old grandmother’s tale ( “Don’t pluck out that white hair, many more will grow in its place!” ), that one strand will soon be replaced by many more.
