Memories aren’t just what I have left of my mother, they are how she lives on. Like elephants, who move together in a group called a memory, I carry her with me in the unseen rhythms of my days. She left indeliable footprints in my life the way elephants leave paths in the wild, forged deep, enduring, impossible to erase.
My mother was an elephant person. She was wise, patient, unwaveringly supportive…demanding at times, powerful. Even her physical stature reminds me of an elephant; strong, grounded, full-figured, majestic.
To love my mother was to stand in the presence of something ancient and enduring.
Her way of loving her family was thick like the hide of an elephant, protective yet tender, a fortress and a wild sanctuary.
If my mother had created a map for me after her passing, it would not have been on paper. It would have been etched into the burrows of my heart, revealing itself only as I became more of myself. With each choice, each arrival, another piece would unlock. I know the landmarks she would have marked: Creative artistry. Deep love. Deep purpose. Mothering.
Her mothering was the biggest gift I have received in this life. So in some small way to give that back is my deep honor.
She mothered by presence, truth, and integrity….showing up first, leaving last. She took joy in my success, never competing, only elevating. Where there is a will, there is a way, she would say (OFTEN). A woman of deep faith, of quiet strength. When I judged myself harshly, she never did. She simply stood beside me, unwavering.