Coloring my Hair
Today I used a new color on my hair, hoping to get a great result. I have had various hair coloring experiences. Like in 1980, when I made the longterm goal with my hairdresser to have long, straight, blonde hair. It was doomed from the beginning because straightening my hair was going to need products only available decades later. By the time those existed, I had made peace with my curly hair. I had also adjusted to my reddish blondish brownish color. Going through terribly damaged two-toned hair had taught me to love what was naturally beautiful.
But today as I put on the color, what I remember most was the first time my sister Melinda talked me into coloring my gray hair in my late 30's. There actually wasn't that much gray, but with the arrival of gray had come a serious hair color confusion. There were strands of every color known to hair on my head, all at once. This resulted in the most indefinable dull color imaginable.
So Melinda helped me pick a box at the store, and applied the color very carefully to my head. The result was a mixed bag. Although she had taken great care with my most visible roots, there were still some gray hairs glistening along my hairline. The rest of my head looked great though. More cohesive and a rich color again.
It is odd that I remember the whole experience because of some flaws in the results. I would not have remembered the extra care Melinda took in massaging the color into my roots if the gray was not still peeping through. I remember this today because of the conversation we had after the fact. It solidified the memory for me.
Melinda had an extraordinary memory. In some ways, much of our family and sister history passed on with Melinda. It is a comfort that we will get to rejoin her and remember things again and anew. In the meantime, I take care to massage the color into the roots, I wait, rinse, condition, etc. When finished, lo and behold, there are still those few stubborn gray hairs glistening above my forehead.
But today as I put on the color, what I remember most was the first time my sister Melinda talked me into coloring my gray hair in my late 30's. There actually wasn't that much gray, but with the arrival of gray had come a serious hair color confusion. There were strands of every color known to hair on my head, all at once. This resulted in the most indefinable dull color imaginable.
So Melinda helped me pick a box at the store, and applied the color very carefully to my head. The result was a mixed bag. Although she had taken great care with my most visible roots, there were still some gray hairs glistening along my hairline. The rest of my head looked great though. More cohesive and a rich color again.
It is odd that I remember the whole experience because of some flaws in the results. I would not have remembered the extra care Melinda took in massaging the color into my roots if the gray was not still peeping through. I remember this today because of the conversation we had after the fact. It solidified the memory for me.
Melinda had an extraordinary memory. In some ways, much of our family and sister history passed on with Melinda. It is a comfort that we will get to rejoin her and remember things again and anew. In the meantime, I take care to massage the color into the roots, I wait, rinse, condition, etc. When finished, lo and behold, there are still those few stubborn gray hairs glistening above my forehead.
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