Gee, I hope I didn' t give the impression that Mavis Coyle, my Mentor in Life, had died. She hasn't died at all. In fact, her son just called me last night from her trailer to give me some tips on re-selling used books. I could hear her talking in the background.
The gal who died a couple of weeks ago was Barbara Pike. And the 83 year old lady who just came up to me at the public library and kissed me is Eva, the Holocaust survivor. And the gal whom I liberated from a crack-addicted "caretaker" through artful interface with the LAPD Elder Abuse Squad - that was Sylvia. And the other old lady I sometimes visit in my Co-op is Penny.
Geez! What's up with all these old ladies?!?! Do I love them or do they love me, or is it both?
I think it's both.
I remember the first time I saw my Mentrix, Mavis. Her son had brought her to an SGI toso, and when I walked in, I saw this old, wrinkled woman. She was sitting in a chair with her eyes closed, listening to the daimoku. She was wearing a purple turban and some very strange-looking, large, clunky jewelry (I later learned that the necklace she was wearing was made out of dried and shrunken mandarin oranges. It's one of her favorites. Right up there with the real bear claw.)
I looked at her and a thought crossed my mind.... "Who's the crone?" This thought was a bit strange, as I didn't normally use the word "crone". Mavis opened her eyes, looked at me and nodded her head. I kind of nodded back and took a seat. I never mentioned to her that I had thought of her using the word "crone". Never mentioned it at all.
Afterwards, my friend Jim introduced me to his mom. Soon, we became friends, and Mavis was hugely helpful to me in pulling myself out of a deep,deep funk I had sunk into because of a number of personal issues. It's arguable that she saved my life, and we have become close friends. I can talk to her about anything.
One day, we were driving in my car and Mavis said something to me about how I had thought she was a crone when I first saw her. "But I never said that!" I exclaimed, and it was true, I never had.
"Well, you thought it, didn't you?" Mavis asked. And that was true. I had thought it, and that was enough. You have to kind of watch what you're thinking around her. She can pick your brain without asking too many questions out loud.
Mavis proceeded to make clear to me that a "crone" wasn't a bad thing - not a mean old witch or anything like that. She claims that the word "crone" comes from the same root as the word "crown". Mavis' interpretation is that a crone is a woman who is a "queen of life" - someone who has lived long and who has developed deep wisdom. That's my Mavis, of course. And I think that's why I like talking to old gals like Barbara Pike and Eva and Sylvia and Penny and Mavis so much. They really have a lot of insight and wisdom to share. And they're past the giggly obsession with guys that you get on younger women. If I can help these good old crones by taking them shopping or to the library, then that's a good deal for me.
Hey! I think I've finally decided what I want to be when I grow up! A crone!
Anyway, Mike and Lynda in Houston - Mavis is alive and well. If you want to chant for her, she would probably appreciate a prayer that she makes it to Macchu Piccchu in this lifetime. That's a place she really wants to go.
Bye for now, everyone. Crones rule!!!!!
Be wise, be kind, be cool.
Byrd in LA