Strands of Silver
Glisten in the Light
Just Here and There
Contrast to Dark Brown

Strands of Silver
A few more Sneakin' In
Covered Up with Color
Every Now and Then

Strands of Silver
At My Temples
Shown off Best
With Hair Pulled Back

Strands of Silver
Time Marches On
Still More Dark Than Light
Not for Long

Forty Waits For Me
At Year's End
Still Thirty Nine
With Strands of Silver

A Kitchen Poem. Written standing up in the kitchen, on the pad of paper we use for the Grocery List because these words kept running through my head on April 13, 2011. (It's a TURQUOISE pad of paper too – just FYI.)

Years ago, I remember a story my Grandma T told me on herself. It's one of my favorite stories about Getting Older. Goes like this…
My Grandmother, a World Traveler, needed to renew her passport.
Passport Personnel was walking her through the application, asking her questions aloud as they filled in the blanks with her answers.
They asked, "Hair color?" and waited for the reply.
My grandmother automatically answered, "Brown".
The person stopped writing, looked up, rather pointedly at my Grandmother's Hair, looked down at the application, shrugged and said, "OK."
I loved that so much.
Without saying it aloud, she taught me that you still feel Young Inside, even as your body betrays you with Outward Signs of Aging.
It also taught me that even the most Jaded Bureaucrat can have Compassion for an Aging Woman with a Young Spirit and Adventurous Heart.
I remember Thinking As A Child that her gray hair must feel prickly like steel wool, since that was what the color most resembled for many years, before it changed yet again to be a lighter shade of silver. Then One Day she asked me to help her with a Fix Up and when I touched her hair I was startled by how soft it was. Looks Can Be Deceiving.

© 2011, Janean Baird Turquoise Tangles