My Mother

Mom, you were there when I took my first breath.

You cried "I want my boy! I want my boy!" And you loved us, Louise, Gayla and I. You and Dad raised us. You gave us a family full of love and compassion. You loved God and if there was ever an ideal family, one such as portrayed on TV like Ozzie and Harriet, where the family was one unit, ours was just that.....the perfect family.

A Mother who woke the children up every morning and cooked them a hot meal, then prepared a sandwich a thermos full of Nestle's Quick, and a pink coconut encrusted snowball. Packed it up in a lunchbox with some fancy cartoon character on it and you would sent us off to school.

After school, you made sure we had a snack; either home made cookies, cup cakes, or even peanut butter and honey on saltine crackers, and And Kool-Aid to drink.

You always helped with the PTA fund raising drives and took us to the school carnivals. In the spring you would cut a bouquet of Sweet Peas, and give them to us to take to class to brighten up the room for open house. You came to meet our teachers, and to praise the funny pictures we may have drawn.

In the evening, you always greeted Dad with a hug, and fresh make-up; (you called it putting on your face!). You made sure we were all together for a great meal at dinner. Our meal included all four food groups, from a salad, to the main course with vegetables, rolls, and meat. After meals a desert, with the best iced tea ever made.

These meals were not microwaved, and the cleaning up was not done through a dishwasher. And not once did you ever complain. Your joy was your family.

In the summer you made sure we had a hot lunch too. Cooked and prepared from scratch with love. You would drive us to the park with a swimming pool for swimming lessons in the heat of the summer in a car without air conditioning. You would bring the lawn chair and sit in the shade of a large tree and watch us splash and swim, then go home and do the rest of the days chores every day. And not once did you never complain. In fact you smiled and rejoiced in your family.

As we grew up, you took a part time job at the Dari D'Lite but the hours could only be from 10 till 2, so it wouldn't interfere with us coming home from school to an empty house. Of course the job didn't interrupt your normal routine of caring for your family. You still cooked our meals, cleaned the house, washed and ironed our clothes.

You would even roll out this huge thing called a mangle, and press the sheets and pillow cases. Where was wash and wear? Where was perma press? There was no such thing yet, but none of our clothes had a wrinkle, thanks to you.

The Dari D' Lite,(they weren't called fast food then, because the food was all cooked to order), solidified your nickname "Swish", which was given to you in high school because you wouldn't slow down. Everything you did was in high gear as quick as you could, but with all the same quality that you put into everything you did.

You would buy boxes of corn dogs and burritos and deep fry them for us in this industrial size deep fryer. It took up the whole kitchen counter which back then was called the drain board. You thought it was great when cousin Ken and I would sit and eat these corn dogs. Didn't you cook 10,or 13 for Ken? This was pride; serving your family. If someone wanted a late night snack you would blend a milk shake or get out the pots and pans and cook another meal. When I would come home late from my after school job at the gas station it was no problem for you to get out the skillet and make me one of your famous hamburgers, then do the clean up again.

If a friend was with me, they were just as welcome to your hospitality. Everyone loved your cooking! Your yummy chocolate chip cookies, your fresh homemade apple pies,

and your sugar cookies were famous with anyone who ever sampled them. Famous Amos had nothing compared to your cookies.

You made sure we were all introduced to the joys of music. You would always have Mitch Miller or Perry Como playing, or a collection of swing era hits from Reader's Digest.

When I took drum and trumpet lessons you encouraged me to practice, no matter how much everyone else may have complained. Soon you and Dad bought me a drum set. You thought it was great when I would shake and rattle the china cabinet with my noisy playing. You also took the time to take me to private lessons and would sit in the car for 30 minutes to an hour waiting for my lesson to finish. You would drive me all over town with my drums and cymbals all in your car. You even let my friends and I play rock and roll on the patio. The whole town must have heard us, but you never complained. You were so proud.

As we grew, you guided us and directed us but never interfered. You were always there to help us, to hear us, and to help heal us if need be. Even when we would take a different path in life, you were there for us. You never condemned me if you thought I was doing something wrong, or different from "your" choices. You wanted us to think for ourselves, and encouraged me to try to speak out more on my thoughts. You encouraged us to be ourselves.

Your tacos cannot be duplicated by anyone and they were a family tradition. You always made sure everyone else had their tacos before you would sit down to eat yours. The

Thanksgiving and Christmas traditions will forever be in our hearts. What will happen to the special Christmas gift box?

How many other families still open their gifts one at a time and try to save all the paper and bows? You would always save all of your Dari D' Lite paychecks, so that Christmas would be a special occasion. You saw to it that the Christmas cards all went out every year, and that no one was ever forgotten.

You would single handedly cook the turkey, gravy, toybock, stuffing, and mash the potatoes. Only near the end...did you step back and let us do the work. Of course we went to Von's and bought the precooked turkey! It wasn't by choice, though, that you stepped back. But never complaining.

We never heard a cross word come from your mouth. Nor was there ever an argument in our perfect family. Although, I do remember when Dad bought me a motorcycle...that was the closest I have ever seen you being upset. And if you ever reached that point of being mad or angry, it wasn't in front of me. You just made sure I wore my helmet and again encouraged me to be myself and to ride and be safe.

Your sense of humor was priceless, you let this gift shine. I remember when you watched "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman", and actually laughed! I thought this was strange behavior for a mother. But when you started throwing back zingers at us, I thoroughly enjoyed them. You once told me to stay out of the back seat of my car on a date. Another time you told me not to do anything you wouldn't do! Funny that this was coming from you my Mother.

You always found joy in the simple parts of life. You loved your rose garden and would call to say your cactus garden flowers were in bloom. You would then send us pictures of the blossoms.

You loved our family home and the trees that surrounded it. You played games on the kitchen table after dinner with us and you limited your time watching TV so we could all spend family time together.

You loved to open our house to company. I will miss listening to you talk and laugh with extended family in the kitchen while I tried to sleep in my room through the next door.

You touched everyone's heart in the family and everyone who knew you has wonderful memories of you.

Your grandchildren would rather have gone to your house, even as teenagers and help bake cookies than go be with their friends. You always kept toys there for them even though they were also growing up. The tricycles stayed on the patio, in the hopes of great grand children.

As the years passed, you enjoyed Dad's retirement. Are you the only wife to ever say you liked having your husband home with you?

You took loving care of Dad and the entire family. And as Dad piddled around the house, you continued to do the cooking, cleaning, and everything else you had done and enjoyed all your married life. You gave Dad 58 wonderful, loving years, something we are very proud to say about you and Dad.

As the end grew near, you never complained through the chemo and the radiation. You were the eternal optimist. You never let it be known how sick you were as you continued to touch the lives of the people you met.

You made many new friends this past year. Even though you never wanted to live anywhere but the home you lived in with Dad. But you accepted your "new surroundings" at the special home and never complained. However, you did worry and fret some about your new roommates until Dad joined you.

You didn't even laugh when I, your son, tried to roll your hair last year on Mother's day. You said it looked great! Mom, you always looked great. Always a kind word, never a complaint.

I can only wonder that if you had complained just a little about that pain in your stomach sooner, then maybe, just maybe we could have saved you that agonizing year by possibly ridding you of this awful disease called cancer.

You told me it was almost an after thought that you told the Dr. that you had this pain. Mom, this is the one thing you could have complained about, but you never did.

We, your children and family complained about the terrible disease, but I still don't remember you complaining. It ravaged you and robbed you but you kept smiling, and even laughed in it's face with your keen sense of humor when you held up the yellow happy face ball and said, "Look we match!"

You enjoyed your life to the very end, rejoicing in the fact you and Dad were together, side by side with love and God in your hearts.

Mom, you have touched everyone in this Chapel today; either by knowing them personally and sharing with them your wonderful memories, or by guiding and shaping our lives, and thus also touching those that may not have met you – but have met you and known you through us, your family.

Just as you were there when I took my first breath, I was there when you took your last breath, and being selfish as I am, and we as we are, we didn't want you to go. But with that last breath, you went to a place where there is no pain, no disease, and again nothing to complain about, you went to heaven. Heaven's gain is our loss.

Thank you for the time we had together; All of your love and precious memories that will live in our hearts forever. Thank you for being our Mother.

~♥~This memorial was created with love and remembrance~♥~