How do you feel about that appellation?  Crone. For me, it depends on the day asked.  Today, I’m proud to be in my Wise Woman years. (note, I opted for the easier on the ego, "wise woman" ).  

What, exactly is a crone or wise woman?  When first faced with the word “crone” I almost keeled over.  What?  Me?  A crone?  Gitouttahere.  

I was having my fortune told and the seer referred to the approach of my Crone Years.  Little did 

the poor woman  realize she was teetering on the precipice between life and death. The fact that I gasped, clutched my chest and grimaced, may have alerted her to a problem,  because she instantly went into a definition of the term.

In ancient times, the crone was an old, wise woman possessing the knowledge of magic, of healing, of life and death.  She presided over births and prepared the bodies of the dead.

Hmmm.  I’m the one everyone comes to when presented with an illness, be it a cough or strange rash.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to someone’s symptoms, followed by “What should I do?”  I gave a luncheon one afternoon, the main course asparagus pesto.  The next morning my friend called, in a positive panic.  “Something is very wrong.  My urine has a horrible odor!”  This poor woman was ready to race to the Emergency Room with some dread disease, until my explanation of asparagus’ effects on our bodily functions. 

After giving birth to her first child, my daughter called in a panic, “Mommy, come quick, something’s wrong.  I’m having horrible cramps and I think my uterus is falling out!”  I drove to her house, and made her take a walk with me.  I explained that she was having nothing more than gas pains and that moving around would help nature take it's noisy course.

I don’t “know nuthin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies”, but I suppose I could, if faced with the prospect.  Ala Bill Cosby, first, you get a catcher’s mitt.  If the baby doesn’t come sliding home, reach in and grab it.  I’ve watched enough births on television to know that you clamp the umbilical cord, and then have at it.  Boom bada bing -  a baby.

And preparing the bodies of the dead?  Well, that’s not exactly high on my list of "Things To Do Today".  But, I suppose I could. I mean, what do you really have to do?  Dial 911?  If I lived in a remote part of the world, with no access to 911 or my friendly, neighborhood mortician, I’d probably begin by washing the body, combing his or her hair, then fixing the body in a comfortable looking position.  Maybe I’d put something over the eyes, just in case I didn’t want them watching me work.  That’s about it.  Unless, of course, I didn't like the person.  In that case, I'd have to struggle with the temptation to paint a moustache or black out a tooth  But I'm a good person.  I would never do that, right?  Karma darling, karma.

If you think about it for a second, in ancient times, any type of knowledge would be considered magic.  Knowing what to do in an emergency…well, that could be considered healing knowledge.  And the dead stuff?  It’s just common sense. 

Well, there you have it.  Today, I am a crone.

"Are You A Crone?" by D. Gustafson, copyright Mama's Secrets, 2007.  All rights reserved.