Going grey and realizing there is no going back

Pat loved my long, curly black hair.

With my brown eyes, this was this first thing Pat noticed about me when we met that first day of grad school. And anyone who knew Pat knows how seriously he took hair-related matters. Pat spun into a depression when he had to abandon his trademark mohawk after the chemotherapy (and getting older) thinned his hair.

Truth be told, I would still be coloring my hair if it weren’t for covid. I considered my dark hair my trademark, it was so key to how people…and by people I mean Pat…saw me.

But, Pat is gone.

Of course, I could go to the store and use YouTube to color my own hair. Lots of people are doing that. But, I am a big believer in signs and omens and there can be little doubt the world is telling me to let go of the dark hair.

The dark hair is a perfect proxy for my current struggle with grief.

I want my old life back. These days, we all do. Our old lives included leaving the house, going to work, eating out, hugging and shaking hands. My old life had all these things but it also included being married. I suspect many of you believe normalcy will return with a vaccine or a treatment for covid (or possibly just a competent leader who can implement guidelines for returning to work and resuming our old lives—sorry, I had to take the political jab).

There is nothing I can return to, there is no normal awaiting me. And so, I must dust myself off and keep moving, keep figuring things out, and build a new life for me and the kids and that means jettisoning the things that are obstacles to moving forward.

This does not mean I am over Pat or finished grieving. Pat’s ashes are in my bedroom, and I cry every day for him. I still feel like I was amputated.

But, I know that the worst thing you can do with grief is get caught up in looking back and aching for the life we used to have. Mourning Pat is a necessity, he was the love of my life and I will never get over losing him. That is different than getting stuck in mourning my old life. It is totally within my power to love and miss Pat while also moving forward and finding a new life.

I have always filled my life with meaningful and interesting projects, I have three amazing kids, a wonderful career, my philanthropy and even a new book project.

Going grey will require awkwardness and messiness and a vulnerability as I transition from the old me to this more updated version. The ugliness of this transition scares me but feels like a more authentic fit right now. Grief is ugly and it makes you ugly. Being separated from the person you love demands a pain and suffering, and so ugliness for some time is an obligation. Pat deserves to be mourned.

Many people will wonder if my white hair is proof I am giving up or depressed or retreating from the world by accepting isolation and loneliness.

But the awkward transitional phase will end, and lead me to a new and different version of myself.

I am sure I will find a way to shine through when my silver hair has replaced the dyed black hair.

One day in the future, I will get to. be bright, happy, wise, and new.