I probably should have been stockpiling face masks, latex gloves, toilet paper, and bourbon, but instead I was combing the CVS aisles for hair dye. I grabbed two boxes of Loreal, because I’m “worth it,” as their advertising slogan proclaims. That was 24 days ago.
Today I decided I could wait no longer to dye my hair roots . . . and bathroom floor, shower walls, and toilet seat, as it turns out. A slob like me should never handle indelible pigments, but what’s an (aging) woman to do during a pandemic?
My husband said, “You know, this would be a perfect time to go natural.”
“No way,” I said. “Isn’t the world depressing enough?
Yes, the world is depressing.
The suffering. The loss. The financial hardships. The uncertainty.
But within my little bubble, am I depressed? No, not really.
I am grateful, so grateful, that I have what I need. I have food and shelter. I have excellent health care. I have a lovely apartment in which to hunker down, and a good man by my side. I have enough money for now, and I have no place I have to be early in the morning. I have Netflix.
And I am healthy.
Mostly I am grateful that nobody in my extended family or circle of friends has contracted this damn virus . . . yet.
And all of those things I’m grateful for are nothing I’ve earned. So far, I’ve just been lucky.
No, I am not depressed, because nothing has changed. Life has always been uncertain. We have never been promised tomorrow.
A Facebook friend commented that living during the pandemic is like having a terminal disease and waiting for the inevitable.
News flash: We mortals all have a terminal disease, and we will not get out of this world alive.
So how to live when tomorrow is uncertain? The Serenity Prayer applies:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
Those things I cannot change are what is hammered home on the news, Facebook, and Twitter all the livelong day. Sad, terrifying things.
God, grant me. . . the courage to change the things I can.
What is within my control to change? My primary job right now is to keep myself healthy. It is my responsibility to my family, my friends, and my neighbors. It is even my patriotic duty as an American to serve my country this way: to scrub to the tune of “Happy Birthday”; to eat nutritious food; to engage in immune-boosting exercise (oh, how I hate to exercise); to watch Netflix. And stay the eff at home!
I can pray. I can cough into my elbow, wear a mask. I can send meals to the medical heroes. I can donate money to organizations that help the homeless and poor, the less lucky. I can order carry-out or gift cards from local businesses. I can tip extravagantly. I can check on people who live alone, who are especially vulnerable. I can cut up shirts and make face masks. I can make hand sanitizer and share it.
I can be grateful.
God, grant me . . . the wisdom to know the difference.
It is pretty easy in this time of pandemic to distinguish between what we have the power to change and what we don’t. Unless we are medical people, we have no control over the mounting infections and deaths. We have no control over the devastating hit the economy will take.
I have chosen to watch just enough of Governor DeWine, Dr. Acton, and Dr. Fauci to be informed, and Queen Elizabeth for a grandma’s reassurance. I try to block out the rest of the noise. Historians will judge what could have been done differently, sooner, better. I don’t have to decide.
There is nothing on the news that is going to change what I do. I am already doing my job of keeping myself healthy and staying at home. For myself. For my loved ones. For my country.
This is what I controlled today: I walked for four miles with my husband. (It seems it took an actual pandemic to get my lazy ass out of my recliner.) I enjoyed the historic Newport homes, the spring weather, the daffodils and hyacinths, the robins, all while boosting my immune system.
I ate fruits and vegetables and lean meats. (And there might have been popcorn. Lots of it.)
I read and wrote and meditated and prayed. I watched Little Fires Everywhere with my free 30-day trial of Hulu. I Zoomed with friends. (I admit that I am a little depressed how my neck looks on screen.)
Instead of taking a picture, Rick could have touched up the roots in the back.
And I dyed my hair. Because it’s an ordinary day, really, and only this moment of it is promised.
I dyed my hair because there will be an end to this epidemic, just like there was for Small Pox, Yellow Fever, Cholera, Scarlet Fever, Typhoid Fever, Spanish Flu, Diptheria, Polio, Measles, Whooping Cough, and HIV.
When we are on the other side of this, I can reassess what I can change:
I will cope with our diminished financial resources. We have done this before: when we bought a house in the Carter years; when we sold our house in 2008.
I will grieve for those I’ve lost, those the world has lost.
I will vote based on what I’ve learned.
I will dare to step on the scale.
Maybe I will deal with my neck.
And when we are on the other side of this, friend, I will sit by your side, shake your hand, maybe hug you.
And I want you to recognize me, so I dye my hair.
See you then.
Comfort from a 102-year-old who has lived through a flu pandemic, the Depression and WWII
The Full Text and History of the Serenity Prayer
I’ve been anxiously awaiting words from you during this new experience for all of us. You didn’t disappoint. Thanks! I have many of the same feelings, gratitude is one of them and it’s good to know that staying healthy is our job right now. I too may be forced to dye my hair, that will Be a desperate act By a desperate woman who refuses to “go gray” . You’re killing me Lingo.
Loved this Sandy. Laughed out loud a few times. Especially on the Nora Ephron reference, I hate my neck! Susan Branscome
Thank you. Yes, Nora Ephron had it right, but I hate my upper arms just as much.
We are so lucky. These health care workers and those filling our grocery and carryout orders are taking risks every day, not just to them but to their families.
Love this piece. FYI…. Abbey told me the baby name will be Pan-Demica…
😉
Love it! I am so happy to be with my hubby and help with our baby granddaughter. We are home bound getting ordered food at a pick up grocery. Right before we went on shelter in place in NC I went and had my hair cut very short. I have been thing about going natural—my hair about an inch silver now with blond ends—odd but easy. I pray everyday and donate to those less fortunate. I am thankful to ALL the folks helping things to function. Let’s remember this when it comes time to push for raising the minimum wage!
I feel I have nothing, NOTHING, to complain about given the hardships of health workers, people in the stores and restaurants, people without income, homeless who have literally no place to shelter in place. It is frustrating not to be able to help. Some of the folks taking the biggest risks are those who make the least amount of money.
Oh my gosh, you’re cracking me up! Thanks for reading and responding. Praying for health for you and your growing family.
If I do nothing else to keep depression at bay, I will keep my roots from going gray.
You have written with your usual grace, style, and humor, but I hope you realize you have written a bit of history for Danielle and Stella. Miss you mightily and look forward to the day we can share a hug.
Miss you so much. Am grateful that you took the time to read and respond to my writing.
Every time I zoom with friends, I bend my head toward the camera, flattened my hair with my hands to reveal the long growing roots that are far more gray than the salt and pepper I thought. Someone said, “you could really rock the Emmy Lou Harris look.” Ah, no. When this is all over I want to keep my hairdresser very busy.
Sandy, thank you for this bright spot this morning.
Thanks for reading and responding. Worrying about our hair and necks shows how good we’ve got it! Be well and safe.
Such a funny take on the Serenity Prayer! I cracked up at your comment ”it takes a pandemic to get my ass off the damn chair.” I also tried to dye my hair. Arghh. My roots are bright red (and white) and I managed to stain our old sink and the toilet cover!
I await a long hug from you! Thank you!
We won’t take our time for granted ever again. Blessings to you and Dr. McDreamy.
Miss you, Lingo! Thanks for writing!
You are one in a million. Always have been, always will be. In these changing times, it’s great to know that the beauty of friendship remains the same. Love & virtual hugs to all.
I love that people are realizing the true value of teachers. Thanks for being the best of the best. ❤️
So glad to hear from you. Hoping you and yours are healthy and sheltering in place. Was keeping up with you until our mutual friend got sick herself. When we get to the other side of this–and we will–we will share a salad and talk about the good old days, and we will never again take for granted the loveliness of face-to-face contact.
I feel like I’m in circle with you, hearing you read this. Thanks for sharing yourself with us, Sandy.
Love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to hug your beautiful neck once this is all over. 😘
There’s plenty of floppy neck to hug! Wish you were in a writing circle with me now. Hope your transition to online teaching is okay. I know you’ll miss the student contact, because that’s the kind of teacher you are.
This morning my phone pinged – a reminder for the hair appointment I scheduled six weeks ago. I picked up one of those root touch up kits to (I hope) hold the gray at bay until I can see my hairdresser again. But I’m worried about Lisa. How is this single woman with two kids in college and one in high school getting by? And I just realized that all three must be back at home right now. Yikes! Today I’ll leave a message on the salon’s phone and hope someone listens and tells Lisa to call me. I want to know if this woman I’ve known for years, who skillfully massages the shampoo into my skull, until I groan, and who shares stories with me, and who makes me laugh, is okay. And I want to send her what I would have spent in the shop today. Sandy, thanks for reminding us of all we DO have and how lucky we are. Let’s stay safe, and let’s share our good fortune when we can. Sending love to you and the talented and delightful Cincinnati gang. ❤️
Love hearing from you and looking forward to writing with you again. Praying for you and your family’s health.
Thanks for the entertainment. You are so right about having hair products on everything around. Many years ago I decided that it was better to have my hair lightened/ colored than to replace everything I had dropped/splattered. Next, we need to post our home haircuts!
And I was concerned about my layers growing out! I can be grateful that I inherited my dad’s family genes, who at 90 is what I call “salt and pepper.” No hair dye needed here!
You have a gift to put the present in perspective! I am feeling the same about the presence in my Gray Hair! It is difficult to stay at home and not see the kids, friends and family. But zoom does help and is reassuring. Thank you again for sharing.
The technology is such a blessing!
Oh Sandy,
I really do feel you will do a great job!! You’re not alone in your endeavor…many of my clients are doing the same thing. I must admit I’m a little worried what I’ll be facing on my return to work. ( oh my!! )
These are trying times for the world. I’ve told my clients to do what you can to make yourself feel good and normal as possible.
So for all of you ladies/men..go for it!! I’m well trained to fix your mishaps!!! LOL
( 1 ) word of advice DO NOT USE BLACK HAIR COLOR.
Sincerely Your Hairy God-Mother
Julie
My hair looks okay, but Loreal doesn’t do as good a job of covering the gray. Sure miss you, and not just because of my hair.
Good stuff, Sandy.
Thanks, Nancy.
Sandy, you never disappoint. Thanks for sharing and making me laugh.
Glad you were my first reader of this piece.
I was “dyeing” from laughter over your lastest DIY project. You are so beautiful and I am blessed with your friendship! You radiate light and love!!
Enjoyed your piece. Like Peggy I inherited good hair genes – no gray but a turkey neck. Have been walking in the park every day with Tom and working on a quilt I began six years ago and finishing my piece on England. It’s good to remember all the blessings we have.
IMHO, whoever invents a neck filter for Zoom will be a zillionaire. Love you, Sandy, whatever your hair color is!
Sandy, you did it again – made me laugh out loud! I thought it might be a bigger challenge this time, but no, it was more than just a giggle.
Am so glad you found some humor in your do-it-yourself hair improvement. Oh, if only the arms and neck were as easy!
Keep writing!
Hugs, Karla