Introducing the Original Mamm

It is my distinct honor to introduce to you the woman who became Mamm.

I am pleased and proud to give you:

Wauna aka Mamm

The young woman in the photo above was to become my mother. The young man, my father. 

While Bob is no Alaric, Wauna is very much Mamm. 

Not only is it her face on the young warrior whose photo is the cover of the book, it is her spirit that imbues the Character of Mamm of Dunnottar.

From the outset, Mom was Mamm. She is all of the Mamms of the Mamm Books, when it comes to that. Each and all, they are her own self.

There's not much that is biographical about the books, so if you're looking to find secrets about my mom's life in them, you're not going to.

The secrets you might find out about her are no secret to those who have known this woman.

She is feisty. 

She seeks peace, at the point of a sword if necessary (figuratively speaking).

She's not afraid of much of anything.

She's deeply spiritual.

She can and will Call on a Power greater than her own when need be.

She wins and she loses.

She laughs and she weeps.

She is attitudinal at times, strong-willed.

She loves with every breath of her life.

She sacrifices and grieves.

She gives, always and always, the best she has in her to and for those she loves.

She has within her something that can't really be defined - at least not by me - something which drives her every moment of every day.

She has fought many and many a battle, of all sorts.

She honors the past and cherishes the future.

She is everything, and so much more, that all of the Mamms represent.

Hers is the Song of Choice.

Hers is the knowledge of the ways of the Spiral of all life.

Hers is the Peace of patience.

Hers is the Faith of the ages.

Hers is the Healing of time.

Hers is the Hope for Tomorrow.

Hers is the Love that endures always.

Hers is the Unity sought by all.

In this woman, mine own Mamm, we find the Keeper of the Legacy.

She has Kept it well.

She has passed it on intact.

Faith

Family

Friends

Freedom

Future

These are the intertwined Circles of Dunnottar and they are the direct result of what this woman, Wauna, mine own Mamm, has lived her life protecting and preserving for me, for my sisters, for her grandchildren, for her great-grandchildren, and for all who are yet to come. She has given us all the gift of her own self, the strength of her, the joy of her, the pride of her, the indomitable will of her, the beauty she finds in all things, the hope she bears ... so very much ... so very much ... she is all of the Voices of the Song of the Holy Trinity ... she is in one person each of the Circles of Dunnottar.

And so ... The Mamms ... because I want all to know the remarkable woman who is my mother.

No, the events are not the same - but the Character of Mamm is the mother I know and love.

I give you the Voice of Mamm of Dunnottar as she introduces herself in They Are My Song:

Mamm Speaks

I am Mamm

I am winter born

Daughter of the Mother

To me has been given

Long life

Much wisdom

To me have come many

Choices to make

Chances to take

Tears to weep

Memories to keep

To me have been born

Daughters of the Mother

To me have been taught

Many paths

Many ways

Which have been given me

To share

With those who would learn of them

I am Mamm

I am the Song of Choice

Even with all of the words of all of the Mamm Books, none are in any way sufficient to portray accurately the woman who is Mamm, who is all of the Mamms, past, present, and future.

From Danann:

ANGELS

I BELIEVE THERE ARE ANGELS AMONG US

Some of my first experimental back-lighting pieces.  These four angels represent the four daughters of my mother.  They are painted with acrylic and pearls on fabric, using the screens from the windows themselves, hinged together, as easels.  When cut from the screens, they fit right into the windows.  I'll try to get a photo without all the tree shadows...!

Here are the angels from the back side, as seen from inside the front porch with the morning light illuminating them.  The same effect happens at night, viewed from the outside, with a light on inside the porch.



MY MOM DOUBLE DOG DARED ME!!! THE GOOD OLD DAYS

Mom sent me a forwarded e-mail of remembrances of times past - the 'good old days' as they are sometimes referred to by oldsters, 'ancient history' by younglings.

Her generation is a good twenty years before mine, and her mother's likewise twenty years before hers - nineteen teens through nineteen thirties through nineteen fifties and into now; keep that in mind. 

As I was reading through the text and looking at the photos, it dawned on me that almost all of these things were as familiar to me as they had been to my mother and my grandmother. 

Essentially, not all that much had changed over the three generations we encompass. 

Only a few of the references were 'before my time' and I had a pretty good idea what even those were all about. 

By contrast, I would wager that MY children would recognize a bare few of the photos or thoughts/feelings evoked, and those few only by hearsay or in reference to 'oldies'. 

When people say that EVERY generation has a completely different world to live in and cope with, they may be almost right on some counts - but when I can relate easily and naturally to so many of the same things that both my mother and grandmothers could ... and my children (now adults themselves with children of their own) haven't got the faintest idea of what any of it's about ... 

Well, that says something else, doesn't it? 

It's got me puzzling about it. 

The changes that have come about over the course of my children's lives DO seem to be leaping and bounding, so much so that the memory-making things of my own ... my mother's ... my grandmothers' ... time seem so far distant as to be over the horizon and beyond recall. 

Has the pace of life picked up so drastically that generational sharing of lifestyles has become impossible? 

Oh SUN ON A BEACH !!!

I can't get this concept to gel for me. 

What I want to know is how we have managed, in the course of ONE GENERATION, to have lost that continuity - and why.

The odd thing is that it doesn't seem a gradual loss but more of a sudden realization: HEY wait a gol-darn minute here what the bloody blue BLAZES has happened here anyhow?!? 

How is it that we three generations have maintained so much in common but THIS one is adrift by comparison? 

I have an overwhelming urge to chant 'Mea Culpa' because it must somehow be me. 

OH!

WHEW!

It's NOT just me. 

Granted, there are altogether too many traditions, thought processes, activities, memory-generating things that seem to have gone by the wayside. 

BUT when I stop to think more closely about the way things are NOW, I do realize that maybe just maybe all is not lost. 

Life is NOT the same now; it is, however, still OUR life, the one we've created to pick up where those old memory-makers leave off. 

While the highlights of my young life totally revolved around going to visit my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I have to try to remember that (back in the day) I wouldn't have been able to Skype my nephew halfway around the world.  My mom couldn't call me from wherever she happened to be and talk to me wherever I happened to be.  I wouldn't have been able to go shopping with my daughter from several hundred miles away.  As my grandchildren grow up, they'll be privy to the same electronics that their parents use with such skill - maybe one day my grand-daughter will be taking me shopping with HER ... via cell phone and data transfer so I can see what she's thinking about buying! 

Yes.  It's different. 

The things I, as the current 'middle generation', have in common with my mother and children are not the same things I, as the 'youngling generation' had with my mother and grandmothers - but we're making our own connections, traditions, activities, memory-generating things as we go along. 

As I move along in the generational line, I had best be paying attention to preserving the concept, if not the specifics, of keeping a connection in place. 

It's a fascinating journey, moving along from youngling to middle to oldster.  It all blends as it rolls along.

Too TOO often the challenges and struggles of the journey seem to be overwhelming and I lose sight of those cherished others who are on this self-same journey WITH me. 

And to that I WILL say:  Mea Culpa

Our work and life schedules are all different these days.  Few of us have nine to five jobs with every weekend off; fewer indeed are the stay at home moms of times past; fewer yet are generational family gatherings where the whole clan gets together to catch up on what everyone else has been up to and to bond as a unit.  We can NOT change the way things are back to the way they used to be - but we CAN make the most of the resources we have at our command.

We may not have the luxury of being able to gather very often as a big group.  We DO have the luxury of being able to visit with one another at will.  Electronics, when work and life schedules keep us apart, can and will keep us connected.  LOL and OMG have become a part of our vocabulary that my grandmothers would NEVER have recognized in their day.  Were they around now, you can bet your bottom dollar they'd be on top of it, just as my mom is. 

Back in the day answering machines were either non-existent or rare.  If you wanted to talk to someone on the phone you had to catch them when they were at home. 

Now I can talk to or text people whenever I want, and leave messages on any number of their devices or electronic accounts; and the reverse likewise.  We may not be immediately available for our communications, but the messages get through.  We can go places and do things together whether we're in the same place at the same time or not. 

Family conferences have been enhanced by electronics.  You can be there even if you're not there. 

Heh heh ... we're all there even though none of us is all there. 

Sometimes I wish it could be more like the 'good old days' but then I do remember that THESE ARE GOOD DAYS TOO.  Traditions change and generations advance, but life is an ever-onward process; would we really want it any other way?  Nope.  And a good thing too because we really don't have much say in the matter! 

MY MOTHER

She nourished me with her own blood from conception through birth.  She has nourished me with her spirit ever since.
She loved that scrawny squalling little 'blue baby' and kept me alive.  She prayed and an angel touched the hole in my heart that wasn't supposed to be there and it closed up.
She held me and rocked me and walked the floor with me.  She wept and prayed, wept again and prayed some more.
She shared her other daughters with me. 
She read to me the classic books of childhood, and taught me to read.  She understood my anguish over Polly Pepper's stove and rejoiced with me over happy endings. 
She gave me art, precious gift, so very very precious a gift. 
She loved me at my most un-lovable.  She loves me still. 
She made sure I was able to go to college.  She taught me to use my wings and prayed when I used them to fly away. 
She showed me how a woman can ride like a Comanche, tangle with barbed wire, and never even wince at the resulting wounds.  She allowed, encouraged, horseback riding and never EVER told me I couldn't. 
Her voice soared in song.  She gave me music, sweet beautiful gift. 
She drove, and drove, and drove - countless miles to ensure bonding with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. 
She stayed up more countless hours stitching special clothes. 
Her authority was superceded only by God, although I don't remember any disagreements between the two. 
She cried the day Jack Kennedy died. 
She knows and loves my soul, approves of my spirit, applauds my successes, hugs me through my failures, grieves for my losses, loves me through it all. 
She told me, tells me, that I'm too intelligent to ever be bored. 
She turned me loose outside and wondered audibly at bathtime how much was dirt and how much was tan. 
When I was old enough she gave me summer space, which perhaps saved her sanity as well as mine.
She rejoices in my family.
She taught me to make an awesome pecan pie and to not neglect the blackeyed peas and greens on New Year's Day.  She shares family traditions with me so I will be prepared to share them with the young'ns.
She showed me that no matter what the world throws at you, it's your own kindness that matters. 
She taught me to protect my own self.  Not that I learned it all that well, sigh.  I do, however, know how to take care of  myself, which is not exactly the same thing.
If I asked her a question she told me to go look it up.  THEN maybe we could talk about whatever it was. 
She wanted me to go to Law School, long before all the aptitude tests and interest inventories said so too.  Maybe one day I will. 
She has high standards which I don't always live up to but I do always give it my best shot and that's what counts most. 
She knows what tears my soul to shreds, what pierces the thick steel walls I surround myself with, and is gentle with me.
My mother has other daughters, this is true.  I have only one mother.  I am one of hers; she is my only.
I love you Mom, quite very much.  Thank you.