Matriarch

 

'The elephant herd is led by the oldest and largest female cow known as the matriarch. The herd gravitate naturally around the matriarch, making her quite simple to identify. She influences the herd more than any other group or individual.

In a crisis, the herd will rely on her to make the major decisions as to their course of action. Like humans, some elephants are born to be leaders.  Successful leaders earn respect through their wisdom, confidence and connections with other elephants.

They need to care for the needs of their herd, and be compassionate to their own herd as well as the members of other herds.' Venkat Kumar

Yesterday a great matriarch fell. If I were an elephant I would be with her herd, surrounding them, gently paying homage to her physical being with my trunk. I would sniff the veld, I would hear the croak of the frogs and I would be present with the herd who is left behind.  Instead I sit and weep through swollen eyes at my computer, desperate to pay homage to a woman who is truly a reflection of the kind of woman I think I can be.

The kind of woman who values creativity, books, relationship, food, home, education and her family above all else. The kind of woman who loves her children so fiercely that she is prepared to give them complete freedom, the kind of woman who wants her husband to feel alive every day in the work he choses to do. The kind of woman who can change the emotional landscape of a community. A matriarch.

I do not know Kerri well. She is of an older generation to me. But our lives unfolded underneath the same mountain range on neighbouring farms. Our families have been connected to each other for over 150 years. She was the flower girl at my aunt's wedding and she was the one person who came to visit us the morning my grandfather died. Her mom, precious Di, passed away on the day she was supposed to come and watch my opening night of ‘Fiddler in the Roof’. I lost my voice that night because I had cried so much. Kerri and I are Drama teachers, over-feeders, creators, we are Winterton girls, we are mothers.

And with the loss of Kerri I feel I have lost the matriarch of a neighbouring herd. Someone who I have admired and respected from afar. A strong, passionate, beautiful woman. And the matriarch in me grieves that such a fine leader has gone.

A week ago I stood on a mountaintop with Kerri’s family and friends praying for her. As an outsider I promised to bear witness to Kerri of how remarkably her husband and sons were reflecting her faith, resilience and hope in this time of absolute crisis. How, on the very simplest of levels, they didn’t even need meals from neighbours because her larder is so well stocked and all of her sons know how to cook. How in the evenings her four boys and husband would gather together and prepare a meal, no doubt feeling her very strong presence amongst them. How her spirit, in her physical absence, was holding them all together.

Because she is such an exceptional mother I am beyond grief stricken that she will not be physically present in the lives of her boys but because she is such an exceptional mother I can already see that the love and energy she has put into growing her boys is more than most people will get in a lifetime from their parents. 

I actually think that there is nothing more that I can say for this magnificent human except to leave you with this YouTube video that she made about two months ago. It stands as a testimony that my words will fail to capture. In watching it I have learnt so much from her already and have wept uncontrollably at how much the world stands to lose should a legacy like hers not be celebrated.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yQ4jDYEAJLU

Kerri, the herd salutes you.

Hambe kahle.