My mother was born in the Overberg town of Caledon, South Africa in 1953 to a father who twice faced bankruptcy, but scored the first hole-in-one at the golfcourse in Riviersonderend where, in her final year of high school, she was nicknamed 'White Rat'. At 19, she got married after abandoning her teacher training at Stellenbosch University, the bastion of Calvinist Afrikaner Nationalism.

Today, at 70, the former potter and equestrian battles the acute physical and psychological effects of Lupus, an autoimmune disease causing the body to attack its own organs. When first encountered in the 13th century, it was thought the accompanying facial lesions, spread across the cheeks like the wings of a Lepidoptera [butterfly or moth], resembled the bite marks of a wolf. Difficult to treat, its exact cause remains unknown.
As the parent of two daughters, who call me 'Wolf', I can finally empathize with, and question, her sacrifice, dependence, bitterness, doubt, regeneration, and relentless spiritual pursuit as a partner, mother, grandparent, but most ultimately, a womxn.

Featured by PhMuseumToo Tired Project 
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