Going Gray?

I always thought that when we started to "go gray," it was a process. I pictured my mom's roots before she would go and dye them. It was pretty evenly spread across her scalp.

I thought that's how it would happen for me.

But no.

I would tell you to look closely, but you honestly don't have to. It's not even subtle, folks. There it is. My massive amount of white hair in all of its glory.

Sometimes I sit in church and pull them out one at a time. I've been scolded by my mother for that since it destroys the follicle. 

Even without pulling out the hair, I don't see this situation getting any better. In fact, it's only gotten worse in the past several years. I imagine stress accelerates it. It must not help to stress about having white hair, huh? 

I think I must also be genetically gifted. Who else gets a lovely layer of completely white strands under their dark brown hair? The contrast is so discreet, huh?

The one thing that provides some measure of comfort in this process is that Patrick has a thing for white and gray hair. This must be a sign. I'm not getting any younger, after all.