Going Gray

I'm going gray. It doesn't bother me. Actually, I like it. Gray is good. Some of my favorite things are gray. Gray was my favorite color in high school. Gandalf was called Gandalf Gray Beard. My wife sometimes calls me Gray Beard. It's a term of endearment. I prefer silver jewelry over gold. I like manatees. They're a grayish color. The bible says, "Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life." That makes me smile. Besides, Sean Connery has gone gray and is much better looking now than when he was younger. My wife says that I'll be a sexy Sean Connery type when I get completely gray. Sounds good. Bring it on!

I've noticed it creep slowly into my beard over the last few years. Then it started to show up in my hair. I'd notice it during haircuts when my hair fragments would hit the black cape they make me wear. It was harder to notice in my hair which has elements of blond, brown, and reddish in it. But, now I can see it starting to brush lightly around my sideburns and around the sides of my head. It's cool. I welcome it. I'm looking forward to that crown of glory. Gray is nice. I'd like to think I earned every one of those gray hairs. Age doesn't bother me very much. I'm not hyperventilating knowing that I'm only a couple of years off from my 40's. I don't feel like I'm approaching the "over the hill" stage. And what does "over the hill" mean anyway? It just means that I can stop climbing and coast a little. Or maybe I'll find a new hill to climb, so that I can go over that one too. The point is, I'm getting older. I don't feel old, but I know it's coming. I'm the age now that I thought was ancient when I was a little kid. I wonder sometimes if my boys find me ancient. I'll have to ask them. Anyway, I'm graying. I like it. End of story. It's all good.