When a Good Mother Sails from This World...

Always thinking of my dear Mum
with forever love... ❤️ 

Time passes… and what is remembered, lives… 

"Let us not look for you only in memory,

Where we would grow lonely without you.

You would want us to find you in presence,

Beside us when beauty brightens,

When kindness glows

And music echoes eternal tones."

~ John O'Donohue

~ Margaret June ~

 29-09-1931 ~ 12-01-2022

Mum and daughter Rainie enjoying happy holidays

 with family at the Sandgate Pool in Queensland

which my Grandad helped to build.

WHEN A GOOD MOTHER SAILS FROM THIS WORLD

When I say, ‘My mother has died’,

I mean my ‘most beloved’.

Leave me to myself now,

for I am a ship who’s

lost her riggings;

suddenly

come unmoored.

My mother has died;

She has earned her rest now,

waiting only, and proudly so,

for her sails

to be taken down.

I, the daughter,

see to the mending of my mother’s sails;

I seek her

worn and broken

threads of light,

reweaving her dazzling linen.

And though there be broken threads

not able to be rewoven,

I will gently pull the edges together

and stitch one side to the other…

and if not able to be mended,

then I will patch with parts

from my own most earnest life

over the places where my mother’s life

was worn through,

. . . or never was.

Over time, the sails of the mothership

will be fitted to the daughtership;

raised up on the mainsail,

and the final touch –

the red ragged flag – hers –

will be flying topmast of my ship.

I’ll be let down into the waters then,

I, the daughter, will glide again…

but this time, under the best sails

inherited from my mother…

and all the mothers of the motherlines

before her.

Ay, Mother, let me tell you

my treasured dearie-dear,

one last thing I have learned

from your spirit passing through me

as sparkling shadow passes

through darkening shadow,

on this open night-sea journey…

I am learning to navigate

by the mysteries of the farthest stars –

the ones that the great wake of your passing

has revealed to me

for the very first time.

______________

CODA

“When A Good Mother Sails From This World,” is an excerpt from a libretto called Woman. Life. Song. commissioned by Jessye Norman, played by the New York Symphony Orchestra and sung by self-same great mezzo-soprano Miss Norman; musical score by Judith Weir, British composer. The libretto was written by what some have since called, Las Tres Lobas: Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, and
Clarissa Pinkola Estés.

Storms and family memory-stories... a fine place to begin!

Hello and welcome!

"The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them.

If stories come to you, care for them and learn to give them away where they are needed. 

Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other's memories." 

~ Barry Lopez 

Before I share with you how and when I got to the start and heart of my inspiration and work behind my latest work: "Ancestors Alive! ~ What is Remembered Lives" I would like to first touch on something which I believe lies at the very heart of that long line of unique and precious people who have come before us... and that would be Stories... both theirs'... and ours.

Let's begin then with our stories... How wonderful! But there are SO many... Where on earth to begin?

Here's a wee story to start off with as I am reminded of how often - and sometimes suddenly - our memories can transport us back to another place and another time... I find that there are many triggers... most often sensory... it could be a sound or song; smell or someone; photo or even perhaps a dream ... or a combination of things.... and then there is also the ripple effect of memories...

Have you noticed how suddenly and vividly you can be taken back to somewhere... or someone? Do you think to write it down or share with anyone? I suppose we all take our memories for granted in a way... until sadly there may come a time when, with aging, our trusty memory-maker-keeper mind starts to struggle with its job and everything we thought we would remember forever, slowly starts to fade around the edges like an old photo...

Meanwhile... outside here, as the thunder rumbles moodily in the dark clouds, I think that today's hot and steamy late Summer's afternoon with a storm rolling in, feels just like the perfect place for me to start... with one of my own treasured Memory of Place stories.

As far as childhood and family memories go, it was lazy afternoons just like this one on holidays with my family, that you would ALWAYS find me perched on the steps of my Aunty's classic Queenslander, excitedly awaiting the biggest and baddest tropical hail storm to hit! Those clouds were literally 'green' and as my Mum and Aunty rushed around the house closing all the louvers and windows, I would stay out on the porch until the very last possible moment when the first heart-jumping crack of lightning flashed from the sky.

I remember always loving storms, just as much as my Mum hated and feared them - and still does to this very day - even as she approaches her 87th birthday.

She tells me that when she was expecting me with her tummy grown large, she would try desperately to get under the bed whenever there was the first rumble of thunder.
What a sight for sore eyes that must have been - ! - and why I have spent my entire life feeling the exact opposite about storms I guess will always remain a mystery to me! But I am happy to have the memories... and the stories!

Like the time many years later after I'd moved out of home and was almost struck by lightning one evening on the deck of the share-house I was living in! Thankfully our dog saved me that time by a couple of seconds... Phew!

But that is another story for another day... along with the cicadas (green grocers or black princes, I wonder?) who are singing away at almost midnight because it is still so hot and sticky ahead of the cooler change which is thankfully due tomorrow morning...

On that note, it is goodnight and sweet dreams from me and I shall return again soon with more about my vision of Ancestors Alive! Memory of Place and Walking with Our Ancestors.

Their stories are waiting as we peek through windows to the past... and remember... you also have a lifetime of memory-stories just waiting to be told, gathered and kept for future generations...

"We are the ancestors of the generations to come. 

We are the net-weavers for all our children,
wherever in the world they may live."

~ Hiro Boga from her book: “To Be Soul, Do Soul”

P.S.
Because I have been gathering many aspects of this work for a very long time, I have come to imagine Ancestors Alive! as being like a very large and ancient tree with many branches...

I see each one of these offering ways in which we can help to honour and remember our families and those who have come before...

Some topics and creative activities which will be included are:

Stories & Story Catching, Memories & Memory Mapping, family history gathering, photos, cultural journeys, myths, dream visits, House of Belonging, personal shrines & altars, creative memory keepers and Life Blessing Books, collages etc.

At the moment I am not sure if I will be able to bring all of these ideas and components to a blog such as this one but will continue to share here until I get better sense of what will work best!

Thanks for stopping by :-)

Great memories!
I was so happy with myself holding the "Crab Catch of The Day"
and wearing my favourite bright red play-suit!
Photo taken at Bribie Island in Queensland in the 1960's during
one of our many wonderful Summer holidays.

What is Remembered, Lives...

 © Quw'utsun' Made