Nanna's Gift to me
That in spite of her feelings of unworthiness, poverty consciousness, fear of Father priest, Mother and the Church projected onto my Mother .. I survived
That in spite of her grief of miscarriages, resentment of men and disillusionment with her life, projected onto my Mother ... I survived.
That in spite of the genetic line of women who stood behind her running her every action without her ever knowing why, projected onto my Mother ... I survived.
That in spite of the ingrained self-judgement, hate and patterns of self destruct resulting in genetic disease encoded in the DNA and passed onto my Mother ... I survived.
That in spite of a rigid code of silence projected onto my Mother ... I survived.
That in spite of Nanna's knowing being made wrong by family and Church projected onto my Mother ... I survived.
That in spite of Nanna's feelings of victim projected onto my Mother who became the Matriarch ... I survived.
That is spite of me living Nanna's life and not knowing why but aware that there had to be a better way ... I survived.
That in spite of Nanna desperately projecting onto Mother that I would be a boy to replace the ones she lost ... I'm not and I survived.
Nanna and Nature's gift to me is that the egg that formed me came from her. Straight down the mitochondrial line ... Straight to me. Nature's way of ensuring survival of the species.
The crushing weight of Nanna's grief and self-judgement nearly killed Mother but Nature's way of skipping a generation allows rejuvenation of the DNA and allows the strains to get stronger and have a chance to survive. The eggs that I carry came directly from Nanna.
Nanna's gift to me was that somehow, somewhere,
someone down the maternal line may have the blind faith and courage to break the genetic patterns that bind ..
may have the strength to move beyond the limiting beliefs that have ravaged the mitochondrial line ..
may allow the past to heal and not fear the future and once more be at peace in the silence and reclaim our birthright ...
All her worldly treasures meant nothing to her after Poppy died ... dementia became her silent companion ... her grief was overwhelming and her remembering too painful.
I dared to ask why ... to break the code ... to feel the fear and move beyond... There is no judgement.
Now I know ... why.
Thank you for your courage, strength and love ... thank you for the gift of your life.
Love you Nanna ... always.
Rest in peace, little flower.