One of my customers died this past Nov and her husband is making his way through the process of adjusting to the loss.
I can't remember what name I used for her in older posts. I don't think I have mentioned in the blog that she was one of the first people to let me do her chart when I began studying astrology 30 years ago.
Last month her husband included me in the list of family members when he sent an email about the spring flowers in bloom and how his wife would be tending them and delivering them to friends if she were still here.
My first thought was "She would also be picking up the dead blossoms littering the front walkway." But as my thoughts wandered among the many years of memories I settled on her chart. I wrote an email in response about how she was born right before dawn on a night of the old Moon lining up with Venus.
Venus is a morning star now, as it was when my customer was born, which means it is waxing, or growing in light as it circles away from Earth toward the far side of the Sun. Yesterday I cleaned at her house, picked up the dead blossoms, and used her hand pruner to remove some of the seedlings that have been taking over the yard. I picked up a bunch of sticks and swept the walkways.
I thought about the man who has been coming to blow the leaves for years; how the yard has changed and the detailed work my customer used to do has fallen to him.
Her husband remarked again yesterday that she had done so many things to take care of him, and I said yes I was thinking the same thing as I worked in the yard.
As I walked to the bus stop I thought about how the Moon will be old in 10 days and rising near Venus in the hour before dawn, almost like they were when his wife was born.
So much is written about what to expect when this or that happens in the sky. To me the real value of astrology is the wisdom it brings down from heaven.
For years I had a hard time getting along with her husband. At one point I walked away, gave 2 weeks notice and moved on. We were all clear about why I was leaving. When her husband called me 5 or so years later I came back for her. She had profound memory loss. He and I gradually built a new partnership based on her needs.
Now that she has died I can contemplate their relationship in new ways. I can think about the love she had for him without being mystified. What was once a puzzle to me with many pieces missing is now a whole story. Things come out, after a person dies, that were in the recesses of minds while life was busy having its way. Life steps aside and forgotten memories come forward.
My customer, widowed for the second time, relates things about his past, and I can understand the bond between them.
I can also see the wisdom of old souls united with waxing kindness.
