Scorpio Moon: When Your Life Is Devastated

I’ve been going to the same hair salon for many years. I had a double Gemini stylist do my hair for a number of years until she finally retired to work exclusively in the salon her lover installed in her home. She died very suddenly about 3 months ago, shocking us.

I was in the salon today and my current stylist got a phone call.  She said, “Judy” but I heard, “Julie” which is the gal who died and it made me shiver.   Julie had a vibrant personality. She was a very healthy gym rat and it’s just hard to believe she’s dead.  But this did not at all prepare me for what happened next.
My stylist was finishing up my hair when, Susie came in.  You’ve not heard of Susie for a long time.

Susie is an Asian woman who also used to work in the salon. Julie was from England. Suzie was Korean. Another gal was Mexican. I’m Italian… back in the day, this was part of the appeal of this place. It was truly international.  They’d all bring food around Christmas time and there was always something for everyone.  So anyway, here comes Susie who I’d not seen in about 8 years.

She was still beautiful.  Susie was one of the most graceful souls I’d ever met. She was truly beautiful inside and out and she used to cut my kid’s hair.

Now she didn’t just cut my kid’s hair, she loved my kids and this included their hair.  She would spend 45 minutes cutting my daughter’s hair and then charge me er… $7. I would argue with her but she said she did not want to charge me at all, she loved my kids so much, so I’d triple her charge and let it be.  I mention this on the chance some of you remember it because I wrote about it back then.

So anyway, something horrible happened to Susie and no one knows exactly what. It was something rare, something in her neck, something that kept her hospitalized for several months and something that messed her up or so I heard.  No one could tell me exactly what happened because they could not get the info from Susie herself.  Susie was a Scorpio and in fact, secretive.  She never did come back to work.

Now I did see her once between the time the bad thing happened and today but it has been at least 8 years and I had to check myself not to burst into tears when I saw her.  My hair was wet and I wondered if she’d recognize me and figured she wouldn’t. WRONG.

“How is your beautiful boy?” she asked.  “Your boy was so beautiful, he must be…”

“You recognize me?” I said.  “Yes, he’s in 7th grade,” I said. “He’s doing well, thank you. It’s so good to see you.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” she said. She was not steady on her feet but she was not exactly unsteady either. I also noted she was immaculately dressed and her hair, as always, was perfect. I waited for her to ask about my daughter but she did not.  It was mentioned she was 71 years old now which was amazing because she’s so beautiful. Elegant.

I watched her closely as she spoke to my stylist and she seemed to lose her words.  She smiled slightly and somehow communicated that she would not make whatever was in her head come out her mouth for some reason. She was mildly embarrassed.  I’d have not understood this had I not been apprised of her situation because I have always asked about her over the years.  “How’s Susie? How’s she doing?”

“Still, Susie. She’s the same. She’s getting used to whatever happened. Her husband helps her…”

When I saw her falter, it hit me. Julie is dead, my daughter is gone, Suzie is jacked somehow and my own stylist’s husband has survived cancer.  We’ve been through a lot, all of us.

I said goodbye to Susie as I left. I am not sure when or if I will see her again and on the way home it hit me. What if she didn’t ask about my daughter because she knows about my daughter?

I sighed and then substituted a new idea. What if she didn’t ask because the information, the fact I had a daughter had fallen from her brain? But it’s not that, is it? She loved my daughter. She’s been coming in there over the last 8 years, tracking my family as I tracked hers.

My next thought was that here we are. These are our lives after the bombs hit.

27 thoughts on “Scorpio Moon: When Your Life Is Devastated”

  1. When you said you were waiting for her to ask about your daughter, I thought, out of courtesy, she probably wouldn’t…

    maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.

  2. This brought tears to my eyes..
    I’m grieving the recent loss of my most beloved person and struggling to cope with all the effects of deep distress and sorrow. Thank you for providing a space where death and sadness is not a taboo.. It is relieving..

  3. Thank you for this beautifully poignant story, Elsa, it so succinctly tells of what can happen under a Scorpio Moon. I love it when you mine a vein, did I ever tell you that? You always come up with solid gold.

    Bloodied, but unbowed. Yep, that’s Scorpio, up from the ashes, eh?

  4. You know what this reminds me of? The realization that things are changing all the time, that the people around us like at the dinner table or a holiday celebration are never really the same people all the time. Before you know it, all of the people before you are gone, and the ones after start to take over, they’re the ones who are doing things- and maybe those people never really saw grandma or mom or the next door neighbor in her prime– have no idea that all of these were vibrant, vital, real people, not someone in a photo or the quiet one in the chair.
    I like memories, but every once in a while they can hit you in the gut.

  5. Avatar

    I know exactly how you feel Elsa… Very sad, it feels as if one should be suspicious of a stranger who is kind …

  6. yes, thanks for this story, Elsa, I echo anotheravatar’s sentiments regarding providing a space where sadness and death are not taboo.

  7. These are our lives after the bombs hit.

    Thank you so much Elsa for sharing your experience, you’re perspective and the story of how life goes on, even after the death of a precious child, friend, a serious illness, and years of separation. Forever changed, but surviving with grace and elegance.

  8. That is an unbelievably bittersweet story…brings tears to my eyes. I feel privileged to remember some of these stories, and I appreciate your generousity in sharing.

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