Sunday, October 25, 2015

White Hair

This post is one that is not written by me, but by my lovely daughter, McKenna.  She was given a essay assignment in English to write about a belief that she has.  I share this because she is wise and wonderful...

I Believe in the Beauty of White Hair

One of the most turbulent years of my life started the summer before junior year in high school, when my Grandma Norma moved in with us at the beginning of June and she began to have difficulty breathing. Her breathing got progressively worse, when on July fourth she wasn’t getting enough oxygen and six days later she passed away. My grandmother was five foot nothing with a shock of white hair and was tough as nails. When she passed it was a huge shock for my whole family, especially my mom. Mom struggled more than any of us and in her grief she decided to pay tribute to her mother by dying her hair white. In doing this I realized that white hair isn’t just a symbol of age or something to be ashamed of, I realized white hair is beautiful.

Watching my mother at that time in my life I saw not only heartache but also pride in being the daughter of that wonderful white haired woman. When people asked her why she dyed her hair she always replied with, “I did it for my mom.” To this almost everyone who asked responded with a compliment, saying how beautiful it was, furthering my belief that white hair is beautiful.

As the year progressed I was faced with new challenges and each step of the way my mother stood by me with her gloriously white hair. One of these trials was the death of my Great-Grandma Hannah. Like my Grandma Norma she was five foot nothing with a shock of white hair and was tough as nails. Her passing was difficult but also a joy as she was slowly losing her mental capacity. The thing about her death that was most shocking was that she was the last of the original “white-haired ladies” my family so lovingly called Grandma. It was the end of an era and white hair became even more beautiful as I saw it less and less.

The year that followed is my senior year and only my mother holds the title of “white-haired lady,” and as I’ve looked back at all my wonderful experiences with my Grandmothers I have solidified my belief that white hair is beautiful. Not just because it’s a reminder of these women I love but also because of what it means to me. It means hard work, endurance, love, patience, strength, and regality. I believe in the beauty of white hair and that it is an honor.    

To have white hair to be among the noble and great who have seen many things, and know even more. My Grandma Norma used to joke that, “each white hair was caused by the stress my child gave me.” She also said she wouldn’t want it any other way. My grandma learned many things through her hard work and trials, earning her white hair along the way. I have personally earned one white hair, I found it three weeks before I turned eighteen and couldn’t be more proud. I hope to live my life in such a way that I will earn the title of “white-haired lady” and be seen as someone who works hard, endures, has strength, and lives life to the fullest. I believe that white hair is beautiful.