The Privilege of Grey Hair

The Privilege of Grey Hair

The inspiration for this reflection came from my attendance at the Remembrance Day service.

As I toddled along I found myself thinking that my hair is quite a different color than it was 40 years ago. I have photos to prove it!

When my hair first became more ‘Silver Foxish’ I used to bemoan this change in style. Not so much these days. For one thing the cost to change it would be a dubious call on my limited finances and for another, I consider myself fortunate to have lived this long. Long enough for my hair to become ‘distinguished’. I’ve been to far too many funerals now of gentlemen who did not have the opportunity to ponder this transition.

So the service began and a mighty fine turnout it was. There was music and medals in abundance. The last post always sends goosebumps up and down my spine to say nothing of a slightly ‘clogging feeling’ in my throat.

Beautiful wreaths of flowers were laid down and the classic poem Flanders Field was recited.

The students who laid the wreaths were smartly turned out in their uniforms and I could not help thinking that the people we were honouring were not that much older than these fresh-faced adolescents. A very sobering thought.

There was one excellent reflection about the unknown soldier and it was rightly pointed out that while we can never know his name perhaps it is better that way for he symbolises everyone and is a reminder of our own mortality that we must all face one day.

If you are like me and you are sporting a silver fox hairdo, remember these things. On Remembrance Day we pray for those who never had the opportunity to have the years of peace we have enjoyed.