summary to recent thoughts of my mom

i don't think i've ever seen my mom's hair. i've seen her in all shades of brown, blonde when she feels confident, though never naturally her own. it's something i realized when i had dinner with her, her roots were growing in and i could get a sneak peak of her real hair for what felt like the first time.

there's surely other times i'd seen it, any of the other times she didn't redye it fast enough or when i'd look at her white hairs and she'd chastise me for acknowledging them at all. i wonder if even in her last years when her head should be fully white and a little more content with herself, she'll still be dying it again and again, trying not to let her age show.

i couldn't say whether or not it's a ridiculous thought since i have little other perspective to look through, but i doubt she'll ever stop. i wish she knew how to grow up a little bit