By Ann Kreilkamp | September 29, 2012

Sister Marnie has just sent me this photo. Thanks, sis!

I push Mom on her new throne at Dad’s funeral On August 31st, at St. Monica’s Church, where Dad used to be a Deacon. Notice my new “funereal” clothes; didn’t want to “stick out” (didn’t want to embarrass Mom) so I went shopping at a cut-rate department store nearby, “Marshall’s”? Can’t remember. Sister Kristin told me about it. Her daughter Bridget picked out Mom’s get-up for the day. The family all agreed, that though there were around 250 people at this funeral, it was not for us, but for them, the parishioners, largely. We had been meeting and reminiscing and singing for five days straight. Mom was still ensconced in family love, her mourning process largely postponed. Isn’t that always the case? So hard to start processing loss when you need to, RIGHT AWAY. Instead, grabbed by the pageantry of the mysterious drama we call “death,” we are temporarily lifted up, in suspension. And yes, one might call my enforced “break,” of nearly a week ago, my body’s way of dragging me into the reality of the fact that my father has just vanished from our lives.

I notice that I’m having trouble keeping Dad’s Death separate from the Fractured Wrist Chronicles. Now I realize why. That conceptual difficulty mirrors the existential communion I’m still enjoying/enduring with Mom, since Dad died. I’ll get to that next. But irst . . .

Victory! Flossed teeth for the first time this morning. Also took puppy Shadow on a two-mile walk, and instead of easy to fix and eat smoothie, clumsily fixed and ate eggs and toast.

Meanwhile, the whole business of ascribing meaning to (seeing patterns in) this “accident” continues. Here’s what I got, so far:

If you’ll recall, Mom and I were alone when Dad left for World War II in 1943 when I was nine months old. He returned when I was two years and nine months old, in October 1945. Meanwhile, Marnie had been born.

As an astrologer, I’ve long noticed an aspect pattern that characterizes my intimate connection with Mom and Marnie — one shared by no one else in the family, including Dad. That is this: sacrificial Neptune, at my Midheaven (and raining down on all but one planet through aspects), is, at 2° Libra, closely conjunct Mom’s Sun and Marnie’s Moon.

And, again as an astrologer, I’ve noticed a potentially ominous pattern that links Mom and me (not shared by Marnie). And that is this: Mom has a very difficult fixed T-cross (two squares and an opposition) with Mars, Saturn and Uranus (the three most difficult planets), all between 19° and 26° of Scorpio, Aquarius, and Leo. I have my Moon at 23° of Taurus, the other fixed sign. Thus her T-cross, which functions like a bow with the arrow pointing toward the unoccupied sign, is targeted directly on my Moon.

Mom, with her Sun in harmony-seeking Libra, cannot tolerate knowing about this fighting/hostile/aggressive Mars/Saturn/Uranus signature inside her. So it’s buried in the unconscious, where it locks into my Moon.

Ever since Dad died, I’ve been down there in the unconscious with Mom, sunk into the place where we both lived when Dad left the first time, and I tried to entertain her, to keep her happy, so she would be able to mother me and not sink into depression. Of course, I failed.

As an astrologer, I’ve been looking ahead at various windows for Mom to leave this planet, knowing that, at least on a conscious level, she wants to. One of them was a few days ahead of her 94th birthday, September 25th. And, I thought, if she leaves then, it will be due to an “accident,” since that window is characterized by transit Mars triggering her disruptive Mars/Uranus/Saturn T-Cross.

So, guess what? Instead of an accident to Mom, I “took the fall,” just as I did for her during our original communion time!

The clincher? The day of my accident, the day I fractured my wrist, was also the day that the transit Sun, at 2° Libra, conjuncted, lit up, the original connection between Mom, Marnie and Me, via my Neptune. I was sacrificed!

Now add to this, something I discovered about myself in taking the fall:

We were on a path in the Brown County State Park woods last Sunday morning, my dear friend Perry and I, holding on to each other, walking side by side. Then we dropped our arms, and just then my right foot tripped on the root. Instead of self-correcting, something I normally do easily, due, I feel, to my taichi training, I “took the fall.” Instead of lurching in her direction, and knocking her body off the path, I went down, hard, on my right wrist.

On the one hand, I’m glad that my spontaneous response was to spare another from the consequences of what was happening to me. To be in service to others rather than in service to self, as we say.

On the other hand, I’m aware that this was a repeat pattern of my original drama with Mom. Perry as Mom, walking side by side with me, and I sacrificed (Neptune) myself for her.

It all makes that photo above, a bit more interesting, eh? And that it was Marnie who sent it to me. Aaaah . . .!

Meanwhile, Mom’s doing fine. She’s finally allowing that Mars/Saturn/Uranus signature to surface, and exploring, for the first time in 94 years, her new status as an independent agent, all the while grieving the loss of Dad who, she now tells my brother-in-law John, “I can feel around me a lot of the time.”

I had told her, during that first week after Dad died and we were sleeping in the bed together so she wouldn’t be alone, that when my husband Jeff died, after awhile I began to feel, not only his presence, but something even more extraordinary. I was feeling myself immersed in a tremendous, sweet, thick energy field that I can only describe as that of LOVE. A love that holds and moves through everything, that connects everyone to everyone else, and the whole universe into one shimmering, vibrating field of energy.

“And,” I told her, “from that time on, I have felt connected and protected.”

“When you begin to feel Dad’s presence, when you begin to feel yourself inside this universal field of love that he will introduce to you,” I assured her, “that is when you will be able to move into the world on your own, because you will fell safe and protected, no matter what happens.”

So grateful!

Here’s Mom, with Kris, enjoying her birthday milkshake. Most of the sibs will gather with Mom at Marnie’s house next weekend to celebrate.