The Mothers Before Me

What began as a simple curiosity about mitochondrial DNA became one of the most fascinating evenings of research I have ever experienced.

After learning that mitochondrial DNA is passed almost exclusively from mother to child, I became interested in tracing my direct maternal line. Unlike surnames, which change through marriage and often follow paternal lineage, mitochondrial DNA follows an unbroken chain of women. Every mother inherits it from her mother, who inherited it from hers, stretching back through time. I wanted to know who those women were.

I began with the women I knew.

My daughter, Liane Volschenk, born in 2008 (Eldest of 3 Daughters)

Myself, Sonja Jordaan, born in 1988. (Middle Daughter of 3 Siblings)

My mother, Leola Viljoen. (Middle Daughter of 3 Daughters)

My grandmother, Magdalena Elizabeth Dyer. (Unsure of )

At first, the search felt straightforward. Like many people, I knew the names of my mother and grandmother, but beyond that the details became increasingly uncertain. I expected to spend a few hours collecting names and dates. Instead, I found myself following a trail that stretched across centuries.

The first breakthrough came when I located a baptism record for my grandmother, Magdalena Elizabeth Dyer. The record confirmed her parents as John Seymour Curley Dyer and Maria Magdalena Muller. What had previously been a family story was now supported by documentary evidence. For the first time, I had a verified link connecting one generation to the next.

From there, each discovery opened another door.

I traced Maria Magdalena Muller to her parents and began encountering names that sounded strangely familiar. Heath. Deetlep. Muller. Some of these names triggered memories of stories I had heard as a child. Others were completely unfamiliar. Yet all of them formed part of the same chain of women that ultimately led to me.

As I continued searching church registers, baptism records, marriage records, and family history databases, the maternal line gradually revealed itself. Elizabeth Magdalena Johanna Heath led to Judick Geertruijda Magdalena Smal. Smal led to Engela Magdalena Kuun. Kuun led to Judith Geertruida Fourie. Fourie led to Judith Wessels. Wessels led to Susanna Odendaal. Odendaal led to Judith Néel.

By this point, I was no longer looking at recent family history. I was looking at women who lived during the early Cape Colony. Women who married, raised families, and lived their lives hundreds of years before my birth.

One of the most remarkable moments came when I shared my findings with my mother. I sent her the names I had uncovered and waited for her response. Her reply was simple:

“Dit is hoekom ek so weird voel. I want to know more about these woman.”

That message captured exactly what I had begun to feel myself.

The research was no longer about collecting names. It was about people.

These women were no longer distant ancestors hidden in archives and databases. They became mothers, daughters, wives, survivors, pioneers, and ordinary human beings whose choices, hardships, and lives eventually made my own existence possible.

As the evening continued, the line extended further still. The records suggested connections to Jeanne De La Batte and Susanne Laurent, women who lived during the seventeenth century. Although these earlier generations still require further documentary verification, the possibility was extraordinary. What had started as a simple question about mitochondrial DNA had become a journey reaching back nearly four hundred years.

The experience taught me something unexpected.

Genealogy is not really about the past.

It is about continuity.

Every woman in this chain carried the next. Every birth, every survival, every decision, and every act of endurance contributed to the existence of the women who followed. If a single link in that chain had broken, neither I nor my daughter would be here.

For the first time, I was able to see my maternal line not as a collection of surnames, but as an unbroken river of women flowing through time.

And somewhere within that river, I found not only my ancestors, but a deeper understanding of myself.

Photo by Александр Раскольников on Unsplash