During your Saturn Return, you discover a part of yourself. This part was always there, but like Columbus’ impression upon this land, we discover it, and hoard this discovery anew, creating relevance and context from this other non-native place, taking every moment possible to incorporate this discovery into our new lives.
Discovery is natural, a part of the imperialistic mind-frame that we Americans have become accustomed.
And so, upon this new discovery of mine, I am aware that I’ve been engulfed, and neglectful of other things, perhaps, this blog, my writing, how sour the taste of the yerster-me.
But still, this piece of me that has always been here, is alive, and real. I’m taking the time to learn how to be a part of this new me. No longer making it a separation, but an absolution.
You want to know the discovery?!
Of course you do. Sure.
Now, I know, you may have seen traces of her within me already. In previous posts, if we are friends, this is not a secret; but can you believe that I had been unknowing of her impact until very recently?
Being absent from my own self makes me think how she must feel. I used to talk to her all of the time, and now, she has become a childhood memory, like cry baby candies from Mr. Softee truck on Sundays after church. Just someone, an object of my affection.
My dad called me the other day while at work. I couldn’t pick up, so waited for the voicemail. When I finally heard his message, perhaps 12minutes later, he said he needed my address for some personal retirement forms. He went on to tell me he loved me, and to call him when I get a chance. Pressing against the white plaster walls of my workplace stairwell, I gushed with little-daddy’s-girl redness and called back immediately. His voice was clean and calm. I rushed through his smooth talk of hellos and how are yous to being too chatty and excited to hear from him.
“You know I just came from Florida”
“Oh yeah, how is everything, the houses? family? Was it a good trip?” I asked.
“Yuh know, everyone is good, except, me fadda didn’t even know who I was, but oderwise, you know, we all hangin in there”
“Daddy, I’m so sawrry… So soon. The Dementia I thought would take longer to mature.”
“yes, uno, it’s his Sinality, it a take-ova.”
I wanted to badly to comfort my dad in that moment. He told me about grandma, his mom, how she was handling everything. She would take care of him on the evenings and weekends. His sister Pauline, a head nurse would monitor grandpa in the day. He spoke logistics and practicalities.
“You know, Sat-day is your grandads 83rd Birtday.” he said.
“Daddy, how are you doing wit alla dis? I mean, your dad… didn’t remember you. Are you okay?” I may have sounded teary eyed.
“You know. [pauses] Life is like this. It is life. It is time. He had a good life, yu-no. This is just a part of life.”
Even now, in this moment, he is trying to teach me a lesson.
“You’re right Daddy.”
“We just have to look after your grandmudda now. I wanna make sure she good-uno.”
Although my grandfather’s body is still breathing, 83 years (this Saturday) still smoking cigarettes, really, he’s gone. And so, in this realization, I have one grandparent left. Grandma Cynthia Smith, Jamaican, in Florida.
And I’m about to have another ancestor, once grandpa goes, as it’s only a matter of time. The ancestors that will surround me are bountiful; I’m excited for them, and yet, discovering my role as a living breathing daughter.
Discovery through Loss.
Saturnista’s, I’ll be back soon. For now, I’m embracing the absences, and the discovering moments. Thank you for this allowance.
What’s your discovery Saturnista?