Remembering Hope

Greetings~

Sometimes one must ponder how quickly time truly passes. As we age we become the elders, the wise, the crones. I found myself engulfed in a good conversation with a very old friend that I can’t seem to shake. We spoke about getting older and becoming the next generation of “elders”, in some cases my friends parents, and grandparents have moved from this realm on earth on to the next phase of the journey. We can save discussion of that phase for another occasion. Some of us have already lost spouses. When did we become the “elders”? When did we become the story tellers? Some of us have always been the story tellers, but now we are the keepers of the memories, the keepers of family traditions, we hold onto what is precious and pass it along. Maiden-Mother-and Crone. The Maiden represents the youth, inception, birth, and new beginnings. The Mother represents fertility, power, fulfillment, and stability. The Crone represents wisdom, repose, and some would say death, some may look at it as leaving this phase and moving onto the next. .. like a butterfly leaving its cocoon. The waxing moon, the full moon  and the waning moon.

As she sits wondering how this happened…she is entering the stage of crone(very early stage), the stage of wisdom. She worries how does she do this? How does she pass the memory, the tradition, and the stories to the next generation. I know with all of my being this is something she has been prepared to do all of her life, as she is strong. She is wise. She has always been a story teller, and keeper of memories and treasures. Just as her Mother did before her, with a wisp of smoke in the air and a cup of coffee in hand if you listen hard enough you might just hear the keys clicking away… remembering Hope. As we look around this time of year we can see the word Hope everywhere if we try, if we look. We remember HOPE.

     

Traditions are the guideposts driven deep in our subconscious minds. The most powerful ones are those we can't even describe, aren't even aware of. - Ellen Goodman

It is not just about the tinsel, or mass, it is not about the biscuits and gravy, or the freshly made butterhorn cookies stuffed with apricot filling…it goes much deeper, yet it is all of those things combined. It is about moments, good and bad. It is about sharing, laughter and tears. It is about remembering.

 My hair is silver and I look down at my hands and see the hands of my mother, however my mother’s nails and cuticles would look much better. I don’t feel like an elder, sometimes my body does a little, but inside I am still a maiden, I am still a mother, rich and fertile, plump and ripe. Truth be told both eggs and milk are probably powdered at this point, but whatever the case, I have always been a story teller. I have tried to pass down the stories of my “clan”. I tell the children stories from when me and my sisters were younger. My son knows the stories, he knows the stories of ancestors past that he has never met. He knows the stories of my childhood as if they were fairytale or parable. He listens to the stories that my father shares too, he without a doubt knows more about my Dad than I do. It is interesting hearing the stories of my father as told by my son, he is a memory keeper in training a holder of tradition and all things sacred and special.

Yes my friend, we are getting older. Some of us are becoming heads of our tribes, some of us are still in training, just embrace it. You are not alone in the journey, we can always meet under the red tent or perhaps a Hardees to keep things in perspective.

I am feeling a chocolate chip pancake in my future…

Love and Light,

Agoraphobia Gurl

"Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning, just give hope a chance to float up, and it will." -Hope Floats