Love and Life Cycles
©2019 by Joyce Mason
The
zodiac, with its predictable cycles, teaches us the power of completion, as
does life itself. When it comes to relationships, there is one rule for
fulfillment. Let it go its course and grow into what it is or isn’t. Anything less haunts us.
- Joyce Mason
My
husband died on June 15, 2019. Radical Readers during my days of frequent
posts know that I was Tim’s primary caregiver since early 2015 when he lost his
mobility due to his muscular dystrophy. From
then on, I was taxed beyond anything I could have ever imagined—physically,
emotionally—but at least not spiritually. We were utterly devoted to one another,
and I could not have loved, or been loved, better. While I miss his physical
presence terribly, by the end, death came as a blessing. Tim was miserable as
his lungs shut down after two rounds of pneumonia close together. I always knew
how our story would end; it was just a matter of how long I’d be lucky to have
him (22 years). I married Tim knowing his diagnosis because we were reunited
childhood sweethearts. Soulmates. The chance to complete this relationship—to
let it become all it was supposed to be—was the second chance of a lifetime.
 |
| Joyce and Tim at her 8th grade graduation party. |
We were denied continuation of our first chance when
his mother forced him to break up with me after two years, a month before we
both turned 14. She worried we were too serious and too young. My own parents
were 19 and 20 when they eloped, and Tim’s mom saw the writing on the wall. She
was also worried about pregnancy. And for her information in the Great Beyond,
I didn’t lose my virginity until I was almost 19. Although, I suspect it would
have been a lot more difficult to keep my knees together, as I was taught in
Catholic school, for many years longer, especially with the guy I loved so
deeply. And in equal fairness to Tim’s mom, her concerns sprang from promising
Tim’s father, on his deathbed, that Tim would go to college. She saw me as the
obstacle to keeping that promise.
We were reunited at age 49 and married at 50 (Chiron
Return). Born only 10
 |
| 1997: 1st Valentine's Day back together. |
days apart, Tim and I led parallel lives in the same
incarnation. No stranger to reconnection for completion, I had previously found
my birth families, another man that followed Tim in my life who left a path of
devastating and destructive “loose ends,” in his own words. I found a dear
friend, my first pen pal. Then I was sitting at my computer on Thanksgiving
weekend in 1996, feeling a divine pull toward finding someone again. I raised
my eyes to Heaven and asked, “Who on Earth do you want me to find now?” Not
hearing an immediate answer, I rolled it around in my mind and asked myself who
I always wondered about. The answer was Tim. I had no news of him beyond high
school, which worried me for many years that he might have died in action in
Viet Nam. (Turns out he was never even in the military.)
Once I knew who, I remembered a really startling dream
I had about Tim the previous March that I had written down in detail because it
was so powerful. I called it Finding Tim. (I learned in a dream workshop that
titling dreams helps unlock the meaning.) Here’s a shortened version.
The Dream. I am at a social event. Feels like a singles get-together. The name
Tim Schoos comes up out of nowhere about a book he has written on relationships.
I am anxious to find a copy to see if he mentions me, since it’s all about his
love life and what he has learned from it.
I
finally get to see a paper copy—a beautiful, hardbound book. I never figured Tim for a writer. It is done
up beautifully by a reputable, big publishing firm. He honors me in the sweetest way through the
book. He has coined “Joycisms” into his
language and relationship terms, from things I did or said that he found
endearing, like “Just Joyce it.” (It
meant do it in your own unique way.) It’s obvious that Tim loves women in the
best possible way. It’s not clear whether or not he has ever been married.He shows up for a book signing.
He looks wonderful. Reminds me of the actor, Tim Robbins. And he is very glad to see me. It’s a little awkward because he’s the center of attention, but we exchange hugs and quick life updates, and phone numbers for later. I walk away from the encounter glowing with hope of spend time together. Who knows? Maybe we can rekindle the romance if we still click in present day.
Of course, there are more details and a lot of code in
this dream that only I would understand. Example: Tim looked like Tim Robbins,
reflecting my feelings of “Tim robbin’,” being robbed of my relationship with
him. In waking reality, I wasn’t sure if this was destined to be a romance or
friendship. I missed his friendship most of all. I was open to either (and got
both). The message to reconnect with him was obvious. Thus began our new cycle
together that we would finally be able to complete.
Astro-Thoughts. This type of completion typically reflects a
milestone within a cycle in our natal charts or relationship charts. Tim passed 60 years (second
Saturn Return) from the time we first met at in 1959 at age 12. Saturn was in
Capricorn once more. In my chart when he crossed over, T-Saturn and Pluto were
in Capricorn in the 9th House. T-Saturn was quincunx my natal
Saturn in Leo to the exact degree in the 4th. I have found myself publishing/being
very public about my experience on Facebook of losing my closest family during
2018-19, including my Uncle Mike and two brothers-in-law. T-Chiron opposed my
Venus, and as such a Chironic person this is not surprising. (Tim was Chiron in
my life.)
The Path Forward. Tim very much wanted me to get back to writing
once he was gone. He felt terrible that his care and support meant big delays
to my new career in fiction, almost as soon as I launched my first novel, The
Crystal Ball. There were times when I wondered if my creative juices could
ever be pumped up to that level of outflow again, but I doubt it less every
day. I wrote his
obituary, which isn’t an easy thing for a wife to do, but it certainly
helped that I’m a “wordmonger,” the front-end of one of my email addresses. I
have gotten a lot of positive feedback on it, which reminded me how expressing
emotions in writing comes easy for me. It also affirmed how memoir seems to be
my best medium.
The medium is the message in this case. I am being
called to re-do my long finished memoir with a different focus than the original
draft, in a way that focuses on how important it is to bring relationships
full-circle. The new title is My Life in
the Lost & Found: The Power of Completion.
It will be an expansion of the stories about finding my
lost loves summarized in this post, including how intuition, dreams, inklings,
“signs” and synchronicity guided me all the way to the finish line. There will
be many more details of what I have learned on this amazing odyssey. The “coincidences”
alone still leave me breathless.
If you want to know more, watch this space. I don’t
know how long it will take to get to publication, given all I have to do and digest
in the early days of widowhood and my many responsibilities. But I do know that
My
Cosmic Tractor Beam is pulling me strongly to share my story with a larger audience.
I am told often, both on and off Facebook, how much Tim’s and my love inspires my
friends—and how I have modeled acceptance in my response to his passing. Although
I live to inspire (and to entertain whenever possible in the process), the main
reason I have been unable to launch a memoir up to now is my discomfort with
the level of public exposure required. It seems I didn’t even realize I was
practicing with my FB friends for opening my life to even more readers. And the cosmic hints to write this memoir border
on nagging.
And if you have any feedback, suggestions or comments for
me about where I’m headed, including specific things you hope I’ll cover in
this book, I would love to hear from you.
~~~
Opening
photo: I call this “Tim’s Heaven,” as it shows him completing
a run in his young, athletic body. You’re free, honey!
