Women go to the beauty parlor for pretty much the same reason. They want to look good. But they also go there when they are in the peaks and valleys of their life — when they feel good, when they feel bad, when they’re inspired, or when they need to be inspired. Women dare to get a life-altering haircut or have their hair colored when they’re ready for a change in their lives.
I was in the parlor the other day when I chanced upon Peachy, the older sister of a former classmate. About two years ago, Peachy, a gorgeous mother of three, lost her husband to cancer, and in the last month of his life, she cared for him like her own life depended on it. The girls and gays in the parlor were witness to her grief, for in a way, she went to the parlor as a form of therapy. In the midst of the hum of hairdryers, she found peace and quiet.
Anyway, over the weekend, I bumped into Peachy at the beauty parlor. Even with her hair in curlers and wrapped in a see-through cap that was dripping with hair color, Peachy was glowing. I asked her why, and joked, “Don’t tell me you’re getting married again!”
She smiled. She was leaving for the US in two weeks to take care of some unfinished business, she said. She did something life-altering today — a heart-to-heart talk with her grown-up children over lunch. And after the lunch, she went straight to the parlor to have her brown hair dyed jet black.
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About 30 years ago, when she was 17, Peachy was sent to the US by her parents as an exchange student and she lived on a farm in Michigan. Since she was a new student in the senior class in the local high school, she was entering a world where friendships were already forged. She found difficulty penetrating the cliques.
During one party at early autumn wherein she felt out of place, she left the house to get some fresh air and saw a big Honda motorbike on the curb. She approached it and ogled. Then a voice in the dark said, “You like it?”
The voice belonged to a six-ft.-tall and handsome young man, one of the most popular guys in school. His name was Chuck and he was the captain of the football team.
Later, he was to tell her that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her jet-black hair and ivory skin. In his predominantly Caucasian community, he had never seen a girl with jet-black hair before. He would tell her his hands shook so much at the sight of her, he had to hold on to his motorbike to steady himself.
Chuck would eventually become Peachy’s first boyfriend. Her first love. When her year in Michigan was over and she had to return to the Philippines, he asked her to stay and be his bride. He even gave her a ring!
At 18, Peachy said she was not ready, and had to get a college education first before becoming someone’s wife. He understood. They said goodbye, for now.
Chuck joined the Navy so he could see the world — particularly the Philippines, where his beloved lived. Instead, he was stationed in Hawaii. Chuck and Peachy never broke up, but they lost touch. Chuck would later tell Peachy he had never gotten over her, and she would be his conscience whenever he was stationed overseas and was tempted to live a permissive life.
Back in Manila, Peachy finished college. She met and married Santi, a fine gentleman, movie-star handsome (she really attracts the cream of the crop!) and accomplished. They had three children and lived a good life. She formed her own company, which organized weddings and birthday parties.
In 2005, she signed up for an e-group of graduates from American schools and renewed ties with her former classmates in Michigan. She learned that by this time, Chuck was divorced, and had three daughters. Chuck was in Iraq, where he trained interpreters, when he got the e-mail announcing that Peachy had joined their e-group. He got in touch with her and when he learned that she was happily married, he kept his distance. Peachy’s husband knew of Chuck, but was never jealous of him.
One day, Santi almost choked to death and when they went to the doctor, they found out that he had cancer and it had metastasized to his esophagus. In less than two months, he passed away.
“My life was in a tailspin,” remembers Peachy. Of course, with their e-group, the news of Peachy’s loss reached Chuck. He waited for what seemed an eternity to him, then Googled the company that Peachy run with her friend Tina. Chuck called up the number listed there. It was Tina who picked up the phone. Chuck told her he was sorry Peachy’s husband had passed away, but that he wanted her to know he still wanted to marry her. He also asked Tina to remind Peachy that they had never broken off, and that their relationship 30 years ago, if it had indeed ended, had no closure. Tina told Chuck it was a bad time to propose to the grieving widow.
In January this year, Chuck got in touch again and this time was able to talk to Peachy herself. He told her, “You were not ready 30 years ago to marry me, and I thank your late husband Santi for preparing you this time for marriage. Now, I think you’re ready to marry me.”
Every day starting last January, Chuck would call Peachy. They see each other via web-cam, and obviously both still like what they see. After 30 years, Chuck still has a 32-inch waistline, says Peachy. He told her his daughters knew of her, because he would take them to the attic to show high school pictures of them (Chuck and Peachy) together.
Peachy has no regrets over the 30 “lost” years between her and Chuck, for she truly loved her husband Santi. But nothing will change the fact that Chuck was — is — her first love.
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Her children, adults themselves, are happy for Peachy.
“It’s time you moved on, Mom,” they told her.
No wonder Peachy is glowing. Some relationships are meant to happen; some relationships are meant to last. And there are relationships that are rudely interrupted, and just when they are about to settle into the dustbin of oblivion, are resurrected.
Peachy is flying to Michigan in two weeks to erase the comma in the equation of her love for Chuck.
It’s been more than 30 years since the curbside encounter under the stars between the shy Filipina and the nervous American on a nippy autumn night in Michigan.
But in two weeks and for the first time in over three decades, Peachy will be reuniting with Chuck, the smitten high school heartthrob who has never gotten over her.
And after 30 years, he will see that she still has jet-black hair.
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You may e-mail me at joanneraeramirez@yahoo.com