Once upon a time I had dark brown hair.
And in my mind I still do.
A few weeks ago I went to a Christmas tea with my mom and daughters to one of her friend's home. There was a woman there that I have met a handful of times but for some reason she never seems to know who I am.
My mom will introduce us like this is our first meeting and I will remind her that we've met before.
My mom always says this woman is the funniest most clever, sweetest woman. I have yet to see that side of her but I'll take my mother's word for it.
This time when we met she did the same thing she always does when we "meet". Looks at me with a confused look, sizes me up and down and I can tell by the look in her eyes that she does not know me from the checker at the local Albertsons (Fresh Market if you're nasty!)
And then she says "Didn't you used to have black hair?"
"Ummmm no, it is dark brown."
"Huh." She huffs out. "Well, I think I just remember you with black hair. But this is nice."
To which I looked at her confused.
Because to me my hair still is dark brown.
I still look like the same person I was ten years ago, twenty years ago, thirty years ago.
It is only the reflection in the mirror that has changed.
Sometimes I think I will go back to being dark brown.
But not today.
