Gray and Toward the Grave

My hair began to turn gray. First one here and one there, and my kids loved to pull them out. It was a great pastime. Then, gray began to come out in multitudes. I had to tell them, "Sorry to stop your fun, but you have to stop pulling them out, or your dad will turn bald."

A few weeks ago, my gray hair began to bother me. I think I am going through my midlife crisis. It bugged me to the point that I wanted to dye it. I did not understand it before, but I realize that midlife crisis is encounter with your own mortality. We all know that we will die, but we don't KNOW, that is, it does not grab us emotionally and shake us so that we have to face it squarely, until something, or some things begin to happen. In my case, that something is my gray hair.

Honestly, it is aggravating, to have to face this undeniable reminder that I am moving closer to the grave. But there is a great benefit: I get to live each day more fully, for I know that the clock is ticking, and it has always been ticking. I spend less time on frivolous activities. I focus more. I make my day count. I live more fully.