Jodie Clarke

Through a child's eyes I always thought to myself she is my hero

Through a Child's Eyes: I remember as if it was yesterday, a young child on the farm with my parents and my dad’s family watching the night sky; eating, yarning. My brother and I running around with our cousins, when there was a boom and flames grew all the way up to the sky. It seemed mystical, fantastical even. I remember hearing a sound of awe. I’m not sure if it came from me or my brother, probably both of us, she inspired that in us. But looking at my mum, I wondered did she too make that sound? She had a smile on her face. Through a child’s eyes, against the flames that reached the sky, stood my Grandmother, her Mother. With her hair out all over the place, frizzy, raging in the wind, the big flowing dresses she used to wear gusting about in the night squall, carrying a stick that seemed to come out of the ground and point to the sky. She looked mythical.

Through a Young Mother's Eyes: I would remember that night vividly and I would reflect on each of my children's births. My Sons, her Great Grandsons; I looked to the skies and I asked her to care and look after them to guide them through life. I often wondered what she would think of them. Their boldness, their fearlessness, would she get them out of trouble like she did me?

Through a Young Mother’s Eyes, would she look at her Great Granddaughter and be honoured that she bears her name and carries herself with brashness and sassiness, as her Great Grandmother did? Would she take care of her and enlighten her in navigating the worlds and times she has walked this earth before? Would she look at her like she looked at me?

Through an Adult Female’s Eyes: I remember that it was a wry smile on my Mother’s face and I look to the sky and can still see the flames reaching up. I remember seeing a strong solid Aboriginal Woman who had connections with trauma, dealings with rigid and inflexible times and inherently became a product of her times, probably getting through life as best as she could. Through an Adult Woman’s eyes, I see her. She is making a statement that she is here. She is here for her Daughter and her love and toughness is for all to see and be mindful of. She is a Fighter. Did she get that from her Matriarchs? Do we come from a long line of women that have fought to be who they are?

Through a Mature Woman’s Eyes: I reflect as to how exceptionally fortunate that I have been in growing up with resilient and strong women in my family. My remarkable Daughter, my incredible Mother, my extraordinary Sisters, my adorable Nieces, my Grandmothers, and my Aunties. Our blood running through our veins has come from ancestors that have walked this earth with knowledge and insightfulness.

Through a Mature Woman’s eyes, I am exceedingly lucky to have women that have come into my life that are not blood but family all the same. They have become a part of me. My Mother in Law and her wise Mother, my brother’s graceful Wife, my husband’s beautiful Sister and Sister in Law, my wonderful Nieces, and my magnificent Daughter in Law. They have taught me, educated me, and shown me their wisdom.

Through a Grandmother Eyes: I looked to the skies once again and asked for her to look after my Grandson, her Great-Great Grandson when he was born, to watch over him and guide him as he too has walked this earth before. Through a Grandmother's eyes revelling in the cheekiness of one day sitting quietly listening to my Granddaughter her Great-Great Granddaughter tell me her troubles her tribulations and whispering in her ear impertinently “don’t you worry about what Mum and Dad say, Nanna will deal with them!” I remember those words just like it was yesterday.

Through the Eyes of Me: I hope that I can impart my knowledge and wisdom for my family, so they can remember, and maybe they can be sitting reflecting on their story one day and possibly see Me for who I am and see through their Eyes that I have made a difference and have done enough that they too can have a hero. Budawan.