Mom, Revisited
Recently I’ve been diving deep on cleaning out my father’s house, which I inherited on his passing in April. I say “my father’s house”, though obviously it belonged to both my parents, because my mother passed nine years ago, and with his Capricorn fussiness and high sense of duty, dad did a remarkably good job of clearing out most of her effects, within months of her death. He left plenty of his own, but I am ceaselessly thankful for all the work he did then, or my task now would be that much greater.
Nevertheless, he did leave some of her personal items, and in going through the remaining contents of her bureau drawers, I came across a baby book for her, in my grandmother’s hand. Whenever I had asked my mother what time she was born, she never had an answer. After sixty years, all my grandmother could say was, “in the morning.” Frustrating comments for an astrologer whose mother was born at home, with no official record, but as I saw that thin pink book before me, I wondered if my question would finally be answered…
