Like a Scorpio Scorned
Did you ever wonder why I became an Astrologer?
Would you be surprised if I said it was because of a volatile relationship?
In 1977, I was living with Mona. Mona and I had been together since 1975, when she moved west with her daughter, Trina, to be with me after I separated from Judi and my son, Derek. I knew Mona had a bit of a fiery nature, but I never saw it for what it was until we’d lived together for that time.
The specifics of my eye-opening research didn’t begin until I answered an advertisement in a magazine which offered to send a 20 page printout of the applicant’s characteristics in exchange for their name, birth time, date and place, and $3.95.
I was skeptical until the package arrived. Then, I read every word, and kept saying, over and over again, “How can they know that?”
It was the start.
I went down to the Vancouver Central Library and looked up any books having to do with Astrology. There weren’t many. But what I found gave me the rudiments of erecting a birth chart, and the bare-bone descriptions of the different zodiac signs.
And wouldn’t you know it: Mona was a Scorpio!
That Night in February 1978
Mona and I weren’t getting on. And St Catharines in winter wasn’t much fun. I’d met Sue when she came into the Bank of Nova Scotia (Fairview Mall branch) as a customer. Then I quit working there. Some time later we arranged a meeting (and the backstory is too long to discuss here).
When I returned home from that meeting, I was met with a very upset Mona. She had threatened to throw my stereo out of the upstairs window. My return had stopped that. But then I went into our bedroom and found a curious thing. All my clothes were piled on the top cover.
I took the clothes and hung them back up in the closet. Then Mona sheepishly pulled back the top sheet of the bed. There, to my greater surprise, were corn flakes all over the bottom sheet. She had emptied a whole box.
I turned to her and said, “When I get my first unemployment cheque, I’m sending you and Trina back to Barrie. You can live with your parents.”
(The final nail in the coffin of our relationship was the torn photo of Judi and I at the CNE in 1967. I never did find Judi’s half of the picture.)
Some might think that I had a narrow escape, and that I got off lightly. I would agree with them. But I see a greater power involved here.
If Mona hadn’t reacted so fiercely, I might not have sent her away. And Sue and I would not have got together. Sue became my second wife, Suzann, later that same year.