The root of it.

Funny thing about highlighting my hair once in the last twelve months – I’ve discovered that I have a lot of grays. Maybe they’ve been there awhile or maybe they’ve multiplied in the stress of the last year. Either way, they’ve staked their claim. And since I can’t take Zoom filters with me when this pandemic-induced holding pattern is over, I decided it was time to step up my grooming routine. So I took my three-inch roots to the salon. Along the way I noticed something had changed – there was traffic for the first time in a long time.

As hints of life before begin to surface, I find myself filled with anxiety. I don’t want to hold onto my gray hairs. There’ll be plenty of time for that farther down the road. But there are things I do want to hold onto – the slower pace, the unstructured weekends, the family time. I feel them slipping away, the roots sprouted from the survival instincts to stay home, stay close beginning to lose their hold. 

Fifteen months and two vaccine shots later, I finally flew to Michigan to see my parents. I love going home and finally understand what it means when we talk about our roots. It’s not just the geography of where you grew up, it’s the sounds, the trees, the smells, the humidity, the color of the sky. While I’ve grown offshoots along the way in Indiana, Missouri, California, the origin of the roots that tether me to the Earth are forever in the Great Lakes state.

On a beach walk a month ago, there was a fallen tree where the sand gave way to grass and rocks and overgrown bushes. It was completely uprooted. And yet, there were twig-size sprouts with bright green leaves on the trunk, rising out of the seemingly dead wood. They were skinny and looked easy to break, but who can deny their resilience? Who would want to? 

I kinda feel like those hopeful twigs, rising out of the ruins of this last year. They won’t become the tree that was, but they will grow and get stronger as they figure out their own new normal. So, yea, maybe I’m not quite ready to join 1,000 people at a show. But I’m all in for a handful or two of friends, some cocktails, some laughs, some actual face time. Baby steps.