Proud to be a redhead

My Grandma Edna was a redhead. Of her 7 children, my mom is the only one who has red hair. Of Grandma Edna's 17 grandchildren, only my brother and me have red hair; our 15 cousins on my mom's side of the family all have brown or blond hair. I used to hate my red hair when I was a kid. I remember old ladies coming up to Dave and me making a big deal about our red hair, touching it, and pinching our cheeks. That got old fast. And when I went to school, I was usually the only redhead in my class, so that was always fodder for potential teasing, particularly in junior high when kids are at their meanest. Then in college I decided to be happy about who I was, so I grew to be proud of my red hair. While Grandma Edna loved all 17 of her grandchildren, I think that she had an extra-special place in her heart for Dave and me because we had red hair like her. And that was pretty cool. Grandma Edna passed away in 2002. I'm going to be an uncle for the first time in early February. I'm optimistic that the baby will have red hair and continue the line from Grandma Edna. At least I hope that he or she will be a redhead. I've even been asking Grandma Edna to use any influence she might have in heaven to see to it. I'll find out soon enough. If the baby has red hair, Uncle Steve will be smiling. And I suspect that Grandma Edna will be, as well.