As our family gathered in front of our zoom screen today, Mom’s face appeared, fatigued but still smiling. She began receiving oxygen yesterday and is weaker than I’ve seen her. “Where’s Anker?” she asked. He was cozied up on Steve’s lap and waved hello. When Mom asked where Eli was I called him inside from where he had been playing with a butter-knife sword and pot-lid shield. She asked about each child, inquiring about their recent activities. Where’s Ezra? Is Brooklyn’s horseback riding still canceled? And when Ben played his Christmas song for her on the piano she nodded her head and said, “He practices every morning…”
Mom has a gift for remembering. If I needed a phone number, I would skip the phone book and ask Mom. Birthdays, anniversaries, recipes, she knows it all. When Dad was preparing to give Mom a blessing a few weeks ago, with all the family gathered via zoom, Dad had to ask Mom where to find the consecrated oil. Sick as she was, she called from the couch and gave him directions to find it. More significantly, Mom also has a special gift for remembering people. She feels for those who are on the margins of life and reaches out to them by noticing what is important to them, by traveling to see them––even if it is inconvenient for her. Just a week or so ago, as she lie weak on the couch, she was plotting a way to take Aunt Connie up to see Treva’s new house in Donnelly. She is worried that Treva feels isolated and Mom wants her siblings to celebrate Treva’s joys.
My memories as a little girl are filled with images of extra brothers. On top of my six beloved and rowdy brothers, Mom made sure that Brett Dille, Matt Sanders and Big Al all had a Mom when they needed one. The sack lunches she made each morning for the pile of football players tumbling through her house were so full you couldn’t fold over the top. Each bag filled with sandwiches made with her homemade bread. As a teenager, I traveled with Mom and Dad on their Home Teaching assignment to the Jones family. I bumped along in the back seat for an hour into the Idaho outback to sit with a family who hadn’t been to church in decades. And for each of those decades Mom and Dad kept driving to see them, to make sure they were known and loved.
While I was searching through mom’s pictures for this book, I came across a Mother’s Day gift I made for her. It was a book that listed ten reasons why I would miss Mom when I went to college. Number 8 on the list was titled, “Things I Forget”. I wrote, “There were so many days when I got to school and realized I wasn’t prepared for the day. You would always drop everything you were doing and help me get my act together. I didn’t deserve that, but you always did it for me.” I got a chuckle out of reading and it reminded me of all the days I frantically walked down the halls of the school to the front office. I would make a call to Mom, asking for my volleyball uniform, my track shoes, my flute, an assignment I needed to turn in, etc. The list of things I forgot is too long to detail. Mom could have let me learn a few lessons about organization or planning but she just loved me and helped me everytime she could. And I really did miss having her close when I left for BYU. No roommates were quite as helpful when I was across campus without an assignment that was due. Mom never forgets the important stuff nor the little stuff and I always feel like a priority in her life.
Mom came to San Francisco to help our family after I had Eli. Between meals, managing school schedules and entertaining the three older kids, there is always a lot for a Grandma to help with when a baby arrives. But the first thing Mom noticed when she arrived was how swollen and cold my feet were. She sat on the edge of the hospital bed and rubbed my feet and then helped me pull on my hospital grip-bottom socks. Steve noted the way Mom cared for me and we talked about how I was one of Mom’s priorities during that time. She was there to do all the other everyday things that were hard for me to do, but most of all, she was there to love me and make sure I was cared for amidst all the bustle of a growing family.
In the last few months (ok, really, it started the day he was born), Eli has been on a streak of mischief. He loves to escape and would run over to the neighbor’s house and hide in their dog kennel, or their rabbit hutch. He runs down the street and lets himself into any house with the front door unlocked. Most recently he learned to unlock our gates and when we fortified the locks, he learned to climb the fence. Mom has listened to me wail about keeping track of Eli and when I call to chat she always asks about him. A few weeks ago she spent a few minutes expressing how much she loves Eli and how she is sure he is going to grow and do important things. She always remembers and sees the best in everyone.
Just a few months ago, Kira and I visited Mom and Dad for Grandma Walker’s funeral. Kira, as an aside during a conversation, mentioned that she didn’t have melatonin or tums and would need them. When Kira and I returned to their house after spending time with family, Mom and Dad were asleep but on the bathroom counter was a small ziploc bag with a tums and a melatonin and Kira’s name in black sharpie. That’s Mom. She notices needs and remembers others through acts of love, big and small. She is a constant in my life and I can always trust that whatever my failings, she will love and remember me.
Mom has a gift for saving, avoiding waste and miraculously multiplying food. I tease her about the things she saves and drive her crazy with my tendency to throw away yogurt containers and grocery bags when she isn’t watching. She can always find a purpose for what I deem trash. Even in her cooking, she is amazing at making something out of nothing.
Before Mom and Dad came home from their mission in Guymon, I spent time organizing the memorabilia collected from all the kids. It was a peek into each of our childhoods––she saved newspaper clippings, missionary letters, cards, pictures, school work, gifts, letterman’s jacket paraphernalia, baby books, baby hair clippings, and hospital bands. She wanted to make sure that everyone got the things that they wanted
Last summer when my family came to visit, the kids rounded up their Cove Road cousins and friends to play. When the posse came rushing into the house they were, of course, starving. Mom miraculously had fresh homemade bread and chocolate milk whipped up and ready. She dished out third and fourth servings to anyone that asked. Even when finances are tight, Mom always seems to have or be able to make what is needed for everyone.
When LaReesa, Kira and I visited Mom after she was placed on hospice, we spent time setting up the house so she could get around with her walker and so others could help her when needed. Mom asked us to go through her clothes because many didn’t fit. In the process of going through her clothes we found an old light green sweater which Mom said was from Lori’s mission! We also found every family reunion shirt we have ever made. Mom loves to save cards that others have given her and her cedar chest is full of sweet notes from family members. One of my favorite finds was a graduation card from her best brother LaMarr. It said, “I’d like to send a penny for every candle on your cake…but who has that kind of money these days?” 🙂 Mom values any effort others put forward to show love and will treasure that gesture forever.
While we were going through things she remembered a white binder sitting on top of her sock drawer. She directed me to it and told me to take it home. When I looked, I found carefully printed and hole-punched emails from my mission along with a few pictures I had never seen of my first days in Guatemala. I am so grateful Mom prepared it and saved it! In honor, I’ll be keeping my yogurt containers from now on. 🙂
It’s obvious to note that Mom did more than just save temporal things to avoid waste. In her own way, Mom saved me spiritually. My collection of memories of her include her sweet soprano voice singing me to sleep with all seven verses of “I Wonder When He Comes Again”, her quietly listening to me vent my worries and gently counseling me in my important decisions, her undying support through all the problems I work myself into, the natural way she cares for me and so much more. Mom is a pillar of power and stability in my life. Even as a grown woman with my own motherly skills, going to visit Mom always feels like becoming a child again. Spending time with her always feels easy and I love falling into the rhythm of letting her care for me.
Mom is selfless. As a teenager, hunting for a birthday present or a christmas present, this truth about Mom made shopping almost pointless. Deciphering her needs was always a challenge for me because she never seemed needy. I remember one day while sitting in seminary, I started thinking about Mom. We were talking about what it means to be Christlike and the truth that Mom is one of the most Christlike individuals I have encountered in life flooded through me. Her soul is pure. She is humble, thoughtful and steady. She finds joy in her everyday work and in the non-material; she is content with her life ––no matter the bumps along the way. I love you, Mom!
