Crones

I miss my crone.  Sadly still, my daughter will miss her too.  My maternal grandmother died in 2007, the same year my daughter was born.  She lived long enough to see her, though by that time, she was already in hospital near the end of her journey in this life.  

 Theresa Falk in her Blog post on maiden, mothers, and crones, breaks the triple goddess concept away from its neopaganist constructs and brings it into the realm of the practical. When it comes to women growing up, maiden, mother, and crone are not always and only about chonology, they are about a deep spiritual presence within.

 There have been proposals for the male equivalent: something on the order of stag, father, and sage.  I personally dont like these descriptions with connotaitons of a rutting buck, and wise grey beard at the beginning and the end of the life cycle.  Maybe there is middle ground, or maybe it's simply best to leave well enough alone.  I know much about the world but there is still so much i dont underatand. Is "Sage" something that comes about on its own or is it an honorific title bestowed on you by others?

In my house, I am outnumbered two to one.  I am surrounded by estrogen from a mother and a maiden, wife and daughter.  Deep within these relationships are the even deeper spiritual desire to pass on to our maiden the wisdom of mother, father, sage, and crone. Things as rudementary as the value of a good nights sleep and an afternoon nap; shopping the sale rack; the importance of sharing; thinking not just of ourselves but of others and the needs of the world;  building memories of moments shared as a family and those special mother-maiden and father-maiden times that involve giggles, tea parties,mand shave-ice.

There is much a maiden can learn from mother and crone- someigns are best left in the company of women. I say this not as a sexist, but as a father who cares deeply for the maiden in his life and has seen the deep spiritual connection shared among women.  There is also much she can learn from fathers and sages about what it means to be treated, loved, and respected by  men (and women) in her life.  The beauty of a sunset, of flowers and the smell of rain, That even though flawed, and born into a world not of her own choosing, and into a family that has its own level of disfunction (what family doesnt?), still there is much love to be found in is life.  There is hope and goodness amid cynicism and bigotry;  there is beauty in the setting sun, the smell of rain, and the laughter of rainbows; that life IS good and there is goodness (God) in everyone.

All that and the knowledge of cooking the perfect fried rice, what more could i ask?