Good Hair

I have good hair.

It's strong. Shiny. Black. OK, so I have a handful of white hair, but what do you expect at 48?

I have tried to compartmentalize my thoughts, since my recent health news. There's hardly anything more boring than someone going on and on about their health problems. I promise I won't. But I can't help but let potential scenarios float into my consciousness.

If, and I emphasize if, I end up having to go through treatments, I will inevitably lose my hair. And that is how I came to realize how vain I am about my hair. "Charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting," God tells us in Proverbs. If I haven't been exactly vain in the classic sense, swinging my hair about like a Breck girl, I certainly have grown attached to my hair and don't want to have to sport a Mr. Clean look! Isn't there a saying that you don't know what you've got til it's gone? (Sing it, Joni!)

I figure, it's always good to rid oneself of vices. So I shall contemplate my newly discovered vanity and try to grow from it.

What's your secret vice?


1 comment:

Musings of a Housewife said...

I don't particularly love my hair, but I sure wouldn't want to live without it. I do think that's one of the worst things about the big C. I know my grandmother suffered for 8 years in all sorts of pain and agony and she still declared losing her hair to be the worst part.

Here's hoping your situation won't come to that.