Remembrance

The news first reached Old Mama on her feet. He leaned forward to rest a lot of weight on the cartilaginous nodes between his front legs bent to form a strong contact with the ground, it was better to detect the seismic signals that were moving over the rock beneath the soft plains of the Highveld. The muscle in each of his large African ears is tied, soothing acoustic signals driven by cool air, allowing him to focus on lower vibrations. On the rich ground, he heard the steady movement of another family of elephants, another part of his bond team. They were traveling, a day trip from here. Although she had not heard that much, she knew that the Old Mother of another family must have applauded her grief. However, the quake did not sound alarmed or alarm. No, it was sad.

"You have to join us. We have lost a friend."

Old Mother's throat emitted a soft infrasonic rumble that indicated "we must go" to other members of her flock. Responded to the surprise of Old Mother's eldest daughter. "What did we go for? The grass is green and sweet, the leaves are soft. The lions do not trap our calves."

Old Mother repeated the soft murmur, with more persistence. "We have to go. Now." Instead of reacting angrily, the Elderly mother commented with conviction that her eldest daughter was showing more assertiveness. She had developed skills that would make her a great heir to Old Mother. Sadly, she remembered how her mother taught her important lessons. "That's our way. We remember," thought the Old Mother. Indeed, he was the ultimate source of memories, the essentials. Others could recall, but no one really knew what he was talking about.

The older daughter fell into the area behind Old Mother, and the whole herd began to cross the line, too. There was no thought of resisting the Old Mother's command. He was a good shepherd of the flock, even in dangerous times when people were near. Old Mother had to face a greater danger: hunters often pointed to the older mother, and her big teeth, first. He did not hate people as he did the lions, but he did take pity on their lack of understanding. “People seem to be smart,” he thought, “but they have no sense of beauty or wonder. That was true, at least for most of them. ”

The two calves still wanted to play, so the young mothers had to lead them to the line, and the bull needed a little commanding slap. "You're too young, and you're going to leave the herd in a few years," thought the Old Mother. The calves follow their mother.

"You have to tell me sometime why you decided to leave this place, old Mama," the older daughter pulled slowly with her trunk to Old Mama's tail.

"Follow me. There is still much to learn."

The herd followed him across the plains, with green grass moving delightfully. Babies needed to rest every few hours, and leaned on their mother's front legs, indicating they wanted to breastfeed. Old Mother pleaded with young mothers, who paused to nurse their calves. The whole family ate a little because this too was a good place to eat. The march was important, but this was not the time for an accident. There was enough time for a short break.

As they rested, Old Mother listened with her feet to try and shake more. The other group left again. No doubt, they learned that Old Mother was moving to join them. Old Mother has now opened her spinach ears to receive an infrasonic vibration that may carry more news than an earthquake at her feet. "Yes, we are getting closer."

The family would travel all night, crossing green plains, over streams of freshwater, and hear the roar of another family. Shortly after dawn, Old Mother picked up their scent, and her speed accelerated. Her family was walking behind her, the little calves moving their short legs very quickly.

"Where are we going mom?" he heard someone ask.

"We're following old Mama," replied the young mother.

"Why?"

"You know what's better."

"Why?"

"Enough!"

One family appeared, and in a moment, Old Mother was able to greet her colleague. They rub each other's buttocks, ears, and mouth, and brush their shiny white teeth. In the language of elephants, the family greeted another herd and received a warm welcome.

The news was soon shared. They had lost a friend, a great friend.

"A time to show respect. A time to mourn. A time to mourn." The Old Mother nodded to the older daughter as if to emphasize the point. "That's why we came here. A lesson to be learned."

One day, the older daughter would show the same respect, showing the same grief, when the Old Mother was no longer able to walk the streets. It was time to lie down in the cemetery where he met his ancestors. The time came for her elder to be the Old Mother.

The two herds moved slowly toward the valley where the man lived. Members of the other herd joined them, thirty-one elephants in total. Calmly, quietly, they walked in a procession of respect to their friend's house. Together, they remembered his kindness, and his efforts to protect them from poachers. They remembered the nine lives he had saved, fed, cared for, and lived. They remember her efforts to build trust in him. His patience. His understanding. He was not one of them, but he was also inseparable. He respected the connection of emotional health.

Old Mother bowed her beautiful head towards her mourning house, as did others. For two days they stood idly by, expressing their heartfelt sorrow. Even the calves were quiet, although they were too young to understand.

With a little moisture in her big, brown eyes, Old Mother turned slightly to her older daughter.

"At home."