The older we get, the more our roots keep us grounded. That’s why “Roots” is the theme of this issue. I’m not sure younger people have had time to fully appreciate the importance of roots. Let me explain…

The roots on the top of my head is an ongoing concern that I turn over to my hairdresser every four weeks. In a desperate attempt to seem current, I floated the idea of a short, natural look. She said I have “bad gray; not the good kind.” We haven’t discussed it again.

Then there’s gardening and the roots that I cultivate throughout the summer and into fall. A botanical smorgasbord, my plants are always on the move. I shift established perennials a few inches to suit my vision. Others get relocated to the compost pile to serve penance for poor performance. Like my hair, their roots have an appealing impermanence.

I’m wary of the roots that are measured through DNA tests (page 34.) Lots of people have harmless fun finding that they’re more Irish than German, and vice versa. That may account for the popularity of lederhosen on Amazon.

I also know people who discovered first cousins and unexpected grandparents because of long-ago liaisons by now-elderly relatives. No thanks. I’ll keep the family I know — or think I know.

It’s All Relative

That brings me to my recent “Grateful You’re Not Dead” tour. Excuse the irreverence; it’s a family trait that usually gets a laugh from relatives but rarely from outsiders.

I have only a few aunts and an uncle still with us from the original full set. It had been two years since I saw Aunt Connie, my late mother’s only sister. She’s 89, in good health and living in Arizona. I owed her a visit.