where do they get off

so, tonight, something happened that really, really upset me. because of several reasons. one, it was almost de ja vu. two, i really, really like my hair, and three, if i am clean, combed, and generally take care of myself/my hair, who's business is it anyway?

the de ja vu part. when my oldest daughter was getting married the first time our relationship was strained at best. lots of reasons, but it doesn't matter what they are. we are over it. but one thing that happened was that in the bride room, as i am putting the last stitches in her hand sewn (my choice) veil, she mutters to anyone who will listen to her (thank God i didn't quite catch what she was saying, exactly) "would SOMEONE do SOMETHING with my mother's hair?" so, tonight, my other daughter says "your hair looks like it is getting straighter." i try to deflect this (i know where it is going) with "but more wire-y" she says "yes, but maybe now you can DO SOMETHING with it." i snap back "I LIKE MY HAIR". argument started. not how i wanted to spend easter dinner. but they need to get over it. older daughter (this is now nearly 7 years after wedding 1) says "she needs to get over it. it is clean. it is well kept. you like it. if it weren't clean, or if it were knotted, we could say something and then we should."

now for the liking my hair part. all my growing up, i wanted my mother's hair. that thick almost curly, lustrous mane that she brushed back from her forehead like elizabeth montgomery in bewitched, only momma's was black. dark as night black. shine in the sun black. and when i was really little, so long and thick that she had to use nearly a whole box of pins to put it up before she went to work as a nurse. i loved momma's hair. i wanted momma's hair. mine was thin, limp, mostly straight, and dirty blond. like my father's. i didn't want to be like him. i wanted to be like momma. exotic, beautiful, momma. now, except the color, for the most part, i have momma's hair. not as thick, (thanks to medications) and not black, but almost curly (if i curl it, it really curls) and very much like momma's. i loved brushing momma's hair and i love brushing mine. i love my hair.

for the third part, brought up by my older daughter, i keep my hair clean. brushed. trimmed. cared for. i don't color it. don't dye it. don't curl it. don't use products in it for various reasons. but i take care of it. i don't fry it with treatments, curling irons, straightening irons, chemicals, processing, or whatever. because I LIKE MY HAIR!!!

i am 10 years younger than momma was when she died. when she died, i cut a lock of her hair to keep. if you asked me the most beautiful thing about momma, i would say her hair. she was a beauty, don't get me wrong, but her hair was truly her crowning glory. i hurts me to the core that my daughters can't see past the current "ideal" of beauty to see the real beauty in hair that is clean, combed, and enjoyed. and if i have to spend mega bucks and mega time to have "beautiful" hair, no thank you. God gave me beautiful hair. He gave me momma's hair.

Girls, one day, i pray, you will like yourself enough to like your own hair.

another thought

i posted this in a forum, but figured i'd expand on it.

i think it takes a lot of growing to recognize where we are, where we've been, and where we want to be. not to mention how we want to get there or even if we can.

recognizing where we are. in life, love, and finances. not to mention health and happiness.

recognizing where we've been. many of us start life in one level (poverty, luxury, broken homes, battered homes, "perfect homes") - (i don't believe in those "perfect homes" by the way), or some other such. where did you come from. not just the place, but what kind of family or circumstance.

recognizing where we want to be. married. single. rich. retired. traveled. foot loose. with 30 grandkids. with a master's degree. in a job we love. doesn't matter. what matters is that it is where you want to be.

recognizing how we want to get there. marry for money. go to school. work overtime. have some kind of permanent birth control. again, how do you want to get where you want to be.

recognizing IF you can get there. i'll never be rich. but i have a job i love. i'll never retire, even though i used to say "when i retire". i know now i can't get there because i am not the retiring kind. i'll most likely never have my master's degree. mostly because i don't have the physical stamina needed to finish the classes. i'm ok with that.

for all of that, i'm happy. i know where i came from, where i've been. where i am now. where i want to be. and if i can get there.

profound statements

so this past week a lot has gone on, nothing terribly bothersome, just busy. more in the lives of folks around me than with me. but it has led me to make some observations that others have found to be quotable. and one statement that someone else made that i found to be quotable. so, here goes...

the first is by my friend sarah otto. she was talking to a mutual friend and said

"Easy lives don't build great character, Barb! Think about how flakey and boring you would be with an easy life!! "

i really liked that and wanted to put it somewhere i could find it. i guess here is good enough.

the next few are by me, in response to things going on with either me or other friends

rough roads often lead to beautiful places...

that was in response to the trouble someone was having finalizing a life changing event. the rough road has led her to a beautiful place.

knowing the difference between class, money, and education. and knowing that money cannot buy class or education, only a piece of paper saying you went to class.

that was in response to something someone did that was totally crass. a family situation. but glad that my children recognized the differences.

the final thought was

a willingness to recognize that a different beginning would not always guarantee a different ending

that is in response to the same trying situation/rough road my friend was/is traveling. and my reaction to it. i am finally smart enough to know that if my beginning had been different, i might still have had the same kind of difficulties in my life that i had growing up. wishing for a different family doesn't "fix" anything. and there is always the possibility that things might have been worse!

so, that's my blog for the day.