It Can't Be Happening

My brother was here this weekend to help celebrate Tristan's birthday. He's two years younger than me, but everyone says he looks older. There's a reason for this, and I have a secret. OK, it's not really a secret, secret, but it definitely helps me to look younger.

We had a grey hair competition, him and I. He keeps his hair super short, and while our natural hair colors are almost identical, his is mostly grey now. He's got that salt and pepper thing going on. More salt than pepper anymore. I on the other hand, have a headful of long, brown hair.

I had to admit to him eventually that I color my hair. In actuality, my hair is just as grey as his, probably more so. We both take after our mother's side of the family. I remember my mom being totally grey in her mid to late thirties. She's colored her hair for years, trying to keep the years from showing. She too, had dark brown hair when she was younger, but now has opted to go blonde. It covers the grey easier, and shows less when it starts growing out, she says.

How sad to spend precious time with my brother, who I see so rarely, comparing grey hair. I still consider him my baby brother. I still feel the need to protect him, even though I know he's quite capable. It makes me sad to think we're both growing older.