End of the line

Thursday, April 14, 2016

I'm currently listening to an offering from The Great Courses called Biological Anthropology: An Evolutionary Perspective, by Professor Barbara J. King. Earlier in the week, she was discussing human evolution and inheritance, and brought up the concept of Mitochondrial Eve. While discussing this idea, she made the comment that many branches of humanity have experienced extinct mitochondrial lines, so the idea of a single individual identified as Mitochondrial Eve is more than a bit simplistic.

Hearing these words, mitochondrial DNA extinction, made me think of Moe's death in a new way. While the Smart Son wants to have a family of his own, my own mitochondrial line ends with me. My own daughter is dead, and my mother has no other granddaughters.

Our broader matriarchal line is not extinct - I have Aunties with daughters, who had daughters of their own. But my own mitochondrial line will die with me. 

Realistically speaking, this would probably still be the case even had Moe lived. She never had much interest in giving birth - she always spoke of adopting when she discussed having a family of her own. I was completely supportive of this plan, as I welcome the lengthening of my table regardless of where people come from, but it's only now, after her death, that it occurs to me that I'm the end of the line.

Weird.

3 comments:

Stacey said...

It is a sobering thought, right? Many hugs my friend.

Anne C. said...

Big hug. Not sure if you need it, but I sure do. <3

Zana said...

My brother mourns the last of the family name, His son has no sons and neither does our lone male cousin. Meanwhile My mother had 3 sisters and of the 4, only 2 had one daughter each. I have 3 daughters and my cousin had 3. Of those 6 young women, only one has reproduced and those are boys. One of mine had to have a hysterectomy, one had part of her cervix removed and the 3rd just had a miscarriage, all for different reasons. It's like the line wore out.
But I know this. Somewhere back in time, a split of relative had a girl who had a girl on and on. I also know that women don't concern themselves with the end of a name or a line because for so long they infused and strengthened other bloodlines with theirs. When my first adopted grandson was first placed in my arms, I sniffed his head just as I did with his Mom as a newborn. I claimed him and his little brother.
In a little country cemetery near me is a fine headstone for a prosperous farmer. Next to it is a much smaller, much plainer one that just says "Wife" and following her is "Baby", "Baby" and "Baby".