One. Grey. Hair.

Today, as I was getting ready for work; I looked at the hair brush in my medicine cabinet and noticed something.

One. Grey. Hair.

Now, mind you, this is not the first grey hair I have found from my head. My wife was even gracious enough to point out that I have several on my head right now.

I think what surprised me the most was my reaction to this pigment-challenged hair.

I have always told myself that I will be one of those men who age gracefully and with dignity. No hair dye for this guy!

I tell myself I will wear my hair as a badge of honor, signifying I have been "there" and done "that" and am now equipped to guide others.

Ernest Hemingway

I believed (and still hope) that I would join the ranks of the well aged men such as Sean Connery, Sam Elliot, or Ernest Hemingway. But instead of feeling distinguished at the sight of that One Grey Hair I felt a little deflated.

Perhaps I figured that by the time I started getting grey hair I would have accomplished something great.

I always joke that with age comes wisdom, but sometimes age just comes alone. Am I afraid that I am getting older but not any better?

Please don't get me wrong. I am not depressed over a grey hair (or, as Heather points out, several hairs). Neither am I fishing for sympathy or words of encouragement. I am simply being honest about how I feel about getting older.

Or maybe I am just making a whole lot of fuss about a whole lot of nothing.

Yeah, so I am getting a few grey hairs. It happens. And so far I have been pretty happy with where my years have taken me.

Married to a wonderful woman. Father of two adorable little boys.

If anything, finding grey hairs on my hair brush should only be a reminder that I need to make the most of each day. Even if I do live a long life, it is easy to let so many days slip by unnoticed.

And besides, it's only one grey hair.