Missing Mom

My sweet mother departed mortality to join her eternal companion on October 3. I miss being able to talk with her and listen to her advice. I miss her company. At the same time I am grateful that she no longer has to suffer and that she is with family eternally. Here are some memories I shared at her funeral.

It is very difficult to sum up life with Mom in a few minutes. She was a remarkable woman. I don’t remember when I first realized how amazing she was, but it was pretty obvious even when I was too young to appreciate it. One of my earliest memories is one that was repeated a number of times. It was after a spanking for doing something I shouldn’t have done. Mom would send me to my room to think about it and after a while she would come, sit on my bed, and tell me how sorry she was that I’d made her punish me. I think those discussions were more effective than the spankings because she communicated how much she loved me and that she knew I could do better.

Mom was very sensitive to the needs of others. When I was a young girl, one of my chores was to fold the laundry. That was a pretty big task in our family of eleven, but Mom was good about giving us regular assignments and making sure we followed through. One day she walked by as I was folding the mountain of dark socks belonging to my father and brothers and I told her how much I disliked that part of the job. (I probably stated it a little more strongly.) Mom remembered and from then on, whenever she had time, she folded the socks, making my job a little more bearable.

Another chore was doing the dishes, which was also a monumental task for our large family. Usually one of us kids would wash and one or two others would dry and put things away. Sometimes, when the older kids were out and the younger kids were playing, Mom would do the dishes with me. I remember feeling so excited to have Mom to myself that I almost couldn’t talk.

I have so many memories of conversations with Mom. She was a great sounding board because she listened without judging. In fact, it was hard to get an opinion out of her even when I wanted one! She was great at making comments that were supportive and encouraging. So, if I ever needed to feel better about myself, I’d talk to Mom.

I remember Mom fasting with me when I was trying to decide whether to go on a mission. It wasn’t fast Sunday; in fact, I don’t think it was even Sunday, but she wanted me to know that I had her support and that she was willing to sacrifice for me. She was a very wise woman.

Of course, there was one time that she liked to remind me of and tease me about. That was after the birth of my first baby, when suddenly I realized that being a mom was a bit overwhelming. She said that for the first few months, every time the phone rang, she knew it would likely be me on the other end, asking, “Mom, is it normal if a baby…?” And you know that she answered every one of my questions!

Another sweet experience was tole painting with her. Mom was a gifted artist, but she didn’t pass a speck of her talent on to me, so I was very happy when we discovered tole painting, something akin to paint-by-number kits, and something even I could do reasonably well. We spent many hours painting holiday projects side-by-side, talking and sharing and laughing. Mom was a lot of fun to be with.

When we moved away from Orem, Mom and I started some new traditions. One was walking around the mall, supposedly for exercise, but Mom made it more interesting by looking for coins and bills that hurried shoppers dropped. At first she and Dad walked. When he became too weak, she still walked almost every day. They collected quite a sum of money along the way. Once a year, when the Primary Children's Hospital did their fund raising she donated the money to them. When I came to visit, I'd walk with Mom. She could spot a dull penny from a mile away, while I could walk over a shiny one without ever knowing it. Sometimes she'd point it out, just to make the competition not quite so one-sided.

After Dad became less mobile, another tradition was going to the temple with Mom every time I visited. These were cherished experiences and I'm so grateful we shared them.

One time while I was visiting from out-of-town, Mom mentioned that she’d started to sort through all the slides that Dad had taken over the years, organizing them for posterity. I asked her if I could help her with the project and for the next few years every time I was in town we made time to go down to the basement of their last home and go through more slides. She’d tell me about each one and I’d label them. I learned a lot more about our family history and lot more about my Mom.

One of Mom’s few deficits seemed to be a problem with geography and direction. How else could you explain that she thought Texas, Arkansas, New Mexico, or California (where some of their children lived) were on a direct route home from their mission to Canada? It was always a treat to have Dad and Mom visit us, which they did wherever we lived.

Mom was a mother in every fiber of her being. She loved her children intensely. I interviewed her a few years ago and wrote a research paper about her roles as a daughter, wife, and mother. In the process, I discovered that the parenting done by my parents wasn’t haphazard or random. It was goal oriented. Everything they did pointed their children toward the goals they had for us – missions, education, and most importantly, the temple. They never talked about “if” we did these things, but always “when”. They loved us through the challenging times and encouraged us. They saw the best in us and brought that out.

Last week, in reading Preach My Gospel, I came across this:

“Our purpose in life is to find lasting peace, joy, and happiness as families and to prepare to return to live with God.”

Mom knew this and lived it.

Bye bye for now Mom. I love you.