Who I became today.

As I've written about before, I have a weakness for haircolor. Why? I don't know exactly. I do know there is something in me that I can't seem to express without "becoming a different person". There ya go. Hair dye is method acting for the soul.

So what color am I now? What was I? Who am I with this hair color?

It's black. Temporary, so it will probably fade badly, but I could stand going permanent. Not with black, and not just because it is so hard to get lighter. I can't stand it because it is a hard color to live with on a daily basis.

I had red hair. It's usually some form of red. It suits me. I am Irish, and as a redhead, I am that stereotypical Irish woman. Strong, does what she needs to do, takes no crap. Like I said, for better or worse, it suits me.

Who I am with black hair is harder to answer. Something that many people, especially here, don't know about me is that I am a minister. And I guess that's as good a word as any to sum up how I am feeling now, though you won't find my name on any church newsletter. But I minister nonetheless.

The last time with this color, a friend of mine had a bad luck streak that would kill most people. There was nothing I could do. If it was in my power, I would have fixed it, but I am a minister, not a god. Ministering to someone does not mean you can fix their problems. It means you shut up and listen while they talk. It means that while there is a little piece of them that is dying inside, you don't try to heal it, but you sit with them as it slips away.

The last time I had this color, I learned of Sekhmet. She is the Egyptian goddess of destruction and healing. Re, the most powerful of the gods, was displeased with mankind. He created Sekhmet, and her appetite for destruction was insatiable. She destroyed so much that even Re had pity on the humans, and tried to get her to stop, but she had become too powerful. He got her drunk by making her think the wine was blood. When she awoke from her bloodlust, she was dismayed at what she had caused. She went into the desert, and while there, she learned to use the plants to heal.

So let it be with Caesar...

After my mom fell, there weren't many people to take care of her. Everyone had work to do. Even her workplace, which kindly used their vacation days to paint her house told her that they would have to have one more day out there, and then they should be done. Meanwhile, they still have their own vacations scheduled, a major credit card program is running, and the world keeps spinning. With her oddly painted house. She gets treatment in the hospital, but after only a VERY few days they decide they don't know what to do with her, so they send her home. In the hospital, my sister and I have to leave the room because they were going to clean her up, but she still has dried blood on her forehead and paint on her hand. I stood in the doctors office today as her blood pressure dropped very quickly, and supported her cast because she didn't have a pillow there. When she felt better, I cleaned her forehead some. She was worried that I would make it bleed again. The only thing I wondered is how hard are people scrubbing at her forehead to make it bleed when they actually bother to help her clean it?? One of the main reasons I want my mother-in-law to move here is because there is nobody to watch her down there. Sure, she has a nosy neighbor that comes over when it suits him. She has my brother-in-law's family, but I don't think she can depend on them in an emergency. I told her to call me if she wants me to install a ceiling fan for her, but better than that, I meant it. An 8-10 hour drive to install a $15 ceiling fan is not worth it financially, but this isn't financial. This is love, and time and gas are irrelevant.

It's a hard color to keep permanently because it's the color I have as a spiritual person. And so I fight against keeping it, because I want to be just as selfish as everyone else. It doesn't usually work too well when I try to fight it.

I used to think that the haircolor allowed different aspects of my personality to shine through. The truth is that they were simply following what was already in place. I've spent the last few years being flippant, careless, and selfish. Now, I think that's the little piece of me that is dying, and strangely enough, I don't need anyone to minister to me while it goes.