I am obsessed with hair on very many levels. Probably because I am a redhead from birth. This fact has caused me much trrauma, but also many kudos and a lot of attention. Attention can be a good or a bad thing.
One thing about my family is that red hair runs on both sides. My grandmother Helen Paine Weber had red hair, then came me, then my cousin Stephen Schultz, then my cousin Jeff’s daughter: Helen. On my dad’s side, my MorMor (really FarMorMor) supposedly had red hair as did my grandmother, her daughter Anna. Anna went by Ann – apparently hating the name Anna, and I never knew her to claim reing dheadedness, so I am skeptical, preferring to believe she was a golden blonde. My grandpa, the only one I ever knew, and who I have nothing but joyful, loving memories of supposedly was a blonde who went white very young.
This brings me to my own hair. Being a redhead is not easy. You can’t fade into the background and be shy. I did try, though. You can’t get a tan. I tried that, too. Ouch. At a young age you hear things like “red-headed step child” in not very positive light. And then, it happens. IT. You mature, and I am not sure if it is a curiosity about private things or not, suddenly, redheats are ***HOT*** By the time I found this out, I was too old for the party. Oh, well.
I am white, don’t tan, just burn and freckle. My hair is course, and frizzy. I go white at a young age. I have freckles – a lot of freckles. I hated them and my frizz and red hair all my life.
I hated my new white hair….until a conversation with my mom today. I whined about Loreal not covering all my white hairs. She said, “Just like Grandpa, you have early white hair, he was all white before 30” And I thought, well if I could have something in common with the hero of my life, my beloved Grandpa Weber, who lit up when he saw me, who brought me lifesavers (pepomint) who listened to baseball on a transistor radio, who played golf, who adored his wife (the redhead) who adored his girls (all 4), who genuinely loved us all unconditionally and who I miss every day since I was 9 and he died; well if I have one thing in common, and it is white hair, then OK, I’ll embrace it.
Thanks Grandpa, for the great DNA. I miss you. I always will.