Kira

Here are some of my memories with Mom. I wish I could remember more!

One of my earliest memories is sitting next to Dad’s little brown homemade stool in the kitchen next to the old black stove. On top of the stool is a bowl of canned peaches and it is my job to eat them. I have issues with canned peaches and I am not happy about being forced to choke them down. I don’t remember what happened after that. I was pretty stubborn and I’m sure there was a lot of drama. However, I do remember that after that Mom always made sure there were canned cherries available for lunch.  It was probably a simple thing for her to start adding a jar of canned cherries to the lunch menu, but it meant so much to me.

Bedtime was always crazy because we were usually reading scriptures late at night. I loved it when Mom would sing to help me fall asleep she would often sing “I Wonder When He Comes Again” and she would sing all the verses! It always brought the spirit and helped me calm down. I had terrible leg aches when I was young. Mom was always so gentle and sweet about helping me. She would get a warm water bottle for me or start a bath so I could soak my legs.

When I discovered a love for reading she always encouraged me! She had to get a library card and I’m pretty sure they had to pay a little fee because we lived out of town. She would take me to the library and let me wander and look at books and choose as many as I wanted! I have so many memories of pushing the chair close to the fire and snuggling up to read in the winter. I know she let me miss out on lots of chores because I was reading and she wanted to encourage me. My love of reading has been such a blessing and I’m still use it as an excuse to miss out on chores!

One summer I got on a cooking kick! I didn’t necessarily want to cook anything useful. I wanted to cook muffins and lemon bars! I remember making batch after batch. Probably anytime I had a craving for sweets. Mom was so patient and allowed me to experiment and make messes in the kitchen. I learned so much and I still love to make treats. Although, now that I am the one cleaning up the messes I have a greater appreciation for the sacrifice it was for her!

Mom always encouraged me to develop my talents. When I was younger I remember having piano lesson’s with Aunt Beverly. I wasn’t very good at practicing and so I didn’t progress and eventually I wanted to quit. Mom was ok with that. I played the flute in middle school band and because I liked it so much Mom found out that Debbie Johnson taught flute and so she signed me up for lessons. She taught the Suzuki method and it was a really hard way for me to learn so Mom let me stop. I loved to sing and I have wonderful memories of Mom playing the piano for me to sing songs from Les Miserables and Phantom of the Opera. I know she always had a million things to do, but she took the time to sit and let me sing. She also worked it out so I could take voice lessons from Lou Cheney. In high school, I decided that I wanted to get a little better at playing the piano and so she signed me up for lessons with Bev Richins. I joined Bruce and Linda Walker’s choir in Ontario and it was a big time commitment and cost quite a bit, but she was always on board with whatever was needed. I never felt judged for jumping around to different talents or for deciding to focus on other things. I’m so grateful that she supported and encouraged me with love instead of force.

During junior high I had the chance to be in a play and I got a part with quite a few lines! I started to get nervous because I wasn’t sure how I was going to memorize all of them. Mom taped the lines up next to the sink and practiced with me while we washed dishes together. I never liked doing dishes (I still don’t!), but I have such a clear memory of this experience because it actually ended up being fun! When I mentioned this to Mom recently she said that  was how Grandma Esther used to memorize scriptures!

I played basketball and volleyball starting in junior high and she would take the time to run me to the store to buy Gatorade to drink during the games. Mom and Dad spent hours watching me play sports. I know it was especially hard during my 7th and 8th grade basketball seasons – we lost every game! When I had early morning practices she would wake up and make me a warm breakfast. When I came home late at night from games she would warm up left overs for me or make a grilled cheese. I never heard her complain about how much of her time was spent taking care of me. She showed her love in so many ways!

When I was in junior high I remember borrowing clothes from Mom. She didn’t mind when I would raid her closet or when I wanted her to take me to buy clothes at Maurices in Ontario. One time when we were on a trip Mom took me to a Goodwill and it was like heaven! We had such a huge stack of clothes. I still love to shop at thrift stores thanks to Mom’s example! In high school Mom made most of my dance dresses. I wanted a crushed velvet dress for prom and it was a tricky fabric, but Mom figured out how to make it work and it was such a beautiful dress! She also taught me how to sew pajama bottoms and helped me pick out cute fabric so I could make presents for my friends for graduation.

When I was a senior I had the opportunity to do a job shadow at Dad’s office with Mom. She was so patient as she showed me the ropes. She found projects for me to do so that I could learn- like transcribing dictation and data entry. She did a good job too! I used that experience to get a job at the BYU law school as a secretary to the law professors. I realized then how well she had taught me because I already knew how to do most of the things they required.

Dating in a small town can be rough. Most of the time the boys feel like your brothers since you’ve known them forever. Mom was so supportive of me getting to know boys from other towns! Derrel and I went to many stake dances just so we could meet people from other stakes. She even let me invite a boy from Rexburg to a dance in Weiser (a friend of DeLon & Lisa’s). When I was a Junior I went to All-State Choir in Boise and met a boy named Steve Dodds. We wrote letters back and forth to each other and he asked me to go to prom with him in Twin Falls. Mom found out that Steve’s mom was friends with Carol Soelberg and allowed me to drive to Twin Falls, sleep over night at their house and go to the dance with him. He was killed in a tragic accident my senior year and Mom took me to the funeral. When Mom met Aaron I’m not sure who was happier that I had finally found the man I wanted to marry – me or her! She was amazing at trusting me to make good decisions.

When Lanette was born Mom came to stay with me for a few days. She was incredible! She would wake up in the night with Lanette and hold her off from eating so I could get some much needed sleep. She made bread, cooked meals and sewed Lanette a little blanket. She was about to go home when I came down with mastitis. I was so sick! Mom just changed her plans and rescued me. When she did go home she was always available to chat on the phone when I had worries or questions about how to care for my first baby. I was so grateful that she had all the answers!  I count it as one of my greatest blessings that she (and often Dad) were able to come and stay with my other kids when I had all of my babies. When I was in the hospital I could totally soak in the time with Aaron and the new baby because I knew that my kids were in excellent hands! My kids have great memories of Grandma’s food and watching church shows together.

When I came to stay with Mom and Dad for Grandma Beth’s funeral I knew that Mom was starting to have a hard time. I munched on too many treats on the drive to Weiser and asked Mom for some Tums before bed. The next morning when we were having breakfast and Mom and Dad were asking about how we slept I mentioned that I should have asked for a melatonin because I always have a hard time sleeping the first night in a new bed. The day of the funeral was busy! I ended up staying at Lara and Judd’s house playing games pretty late and so Mom and Dad were already in bed when I came back. In the bathroom on the counter Mom had written my name on a ziplock bag and put a few Tums in it. On top of the bag was a bottle of melatonin. Mom was doing what she had been doing my whole life. Watching for my needs and doing all that she could to help me. I couldn’t believe that on such a long, busy day she had taken the time to gather those things and put them right where she knew I would find them. Her ability to love and nurture others is incomparable!

 

Derrel

I’m grateful for the opportunity to share a few remarks today. I learned to feel and recognize the love, comfort and peace available to each of us through our Savior Jesus Christ, from my mother. As a child, my first and earliest recollection is of the loving and comforting sound of her beautiful voice singing “I wonder when he comes again” and “I love to see the temple” as she calmed my fears at bedtime.  This memory is vivid, it pierced my soul and has not dimmed since childhood. This same feeling has returned again and again throughout my life with each moment where the atonement of Christ would be needed.

In my late childhood and adolescent years, she continued to quietly teach me about the love and comfort of our Savior as she nurtured me through many health challenges including (but not limited to) an unfortunate incident with a BB gun, a motorcycle incident requiring 18 stitches (thank you Dr. Drake!), acute appendicitis, repair of a deviated septum (I’m still not sure how I broke my nose 🙂 and multiple interventions at the hands of an ornery chicken sandwich. With immense kindness and with a twinkle in her eye she later awarded me the title of her “most expensive child”. Ironically, that felt like such a compliment.

As an adult, I suffered another health emergency that left me hospitalized for a week and a half and with a prolonged recovery. Mom joined by dear wife, Kim, as they both nurtured me back to health. She was an expert at sharing the Savior’s love and comfort.

This week, even after her passing, she taught me of the peace the Savior can provide in the most painful moments of our lives.  Unfortunately, the notorious COVID-19 infection deprived me and my family of being at her bedside as she slipped away into her eternal glory. My beloved wife and children are unfortunately still quarantined and unable to join us in grieving her loss today. Nonetheless, as we discussed this as a family, we felt an overwhelming sense of peace enter our home. Certainly, this was a result of her continued influence in our lives.

Few things are as painful as loosing your beloved mother, but somehow I am at peace. It is the peace the Savior brings in our hours of need. I have known it since I was a young child. I learned it from my mother.

I testify that the Lord Jesus Christ is the source of the deepest and purest love we can know. He heals the sick and the afflicted. He comforts those who stand in need of comfort and brings peace in our most desperate hour. He is the balm of Gilead. He is the great physician. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Devin

Memories of Mother

By Devin G Walker

12-27-2020

 

My mother Marianne Kofoed Walker was a multi-tasker, a selfless servant, and talented teacher, and a savior of souls.

 

Multi-tasker

 

Multi-tasking was a necessity with eleven children. She was constantly pulled in so many directions, ranging from changing diapers, to football games, to scouting projects, to church activities, and all the other daily duties of a mother of eleven very active children. 

 

With the four of us youngest boys in the bedroom upstairs next to my parent’s master bedroom, there were many nights that rowdy distractions kept us awake. My mother may have simply resorted to singing us to sleep in order to help us fall asleep faster, so that she could get some sleep herself. But for me, it felt like love washing over me, as she would lullaby my active young mind into a calm slumber. Her soothing voice filled my mind and heart as she gently stroked my hair and face. The effect was mesmerizing. As was highlighted at her funeral, she often sang “When He Comes Again”, “Give Said the Little Stream”, but my favorite was “When Joseph Went to Bethlehem”. This song tells of the journey of Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem, and the birth of Jesus Christ. As the spirit testified to me of the truths in the song, the story of Jesus Christ’s Birth, sung by my mother’s beautiful voice, became a reverent childhood memory and a precious root of my testimony.

 

As a parent now, I can imagine how annoying it would be to have four young boys next door to the master bedroom, who would come in every few minutes, and complain about not being able to fall asleep. I remember the door to my parents bedroom being locked on various occasions, and I remember wondering why? None of the other rooms had locks on the doors, I thought to myself. So, although I was confused at the time, it is obvious now that it prevented us from disrupting their night time privacy, and their precious little sleep. I remember being disciplined for waking up at night and going into their room. I must have gotten up several times a night sometimes, causing justifiable annoyance. However, there were many times when I was greeted with open arms when entering their bedroom. 

 

Some of my earliest memories were of these times when my legs would ache at night, and it was painful enough to wake me up so that I could not get back to sleep. There were two remedies that my parents used to help alleviate the pain. 

 

The first and most common was lying in their bed while one or both of them (but usually my father) rubbed my legs. The second was that my mother would draw up a hot bath in which I would sit and soak, which eased the aching in my legs. As parents, my wife, Lindsey, and I have rubbed our kids’ legs, but we also give them a little children’s Tylenol, or Ibuprofen, and send them back to bed. However, I don’t ever remember my parents having any medication available for such leg pains. It was comforting to lie next to my parents and have them rub my legs, and I loved the hot baths on cold nights. I could fall asleep quickly in the warm water. I remember my mother drying me, dressing me, and carrying me back to bed. I belabor the point of nighttime interruptions in order to emphasize the point that my mother NEVER had enough sleep! She was a multi-tasker day and night!

 

Selfless Servant

 

The Savior Jesus Christ was a selfless servant. He was constantly pulled from one person in need to another. He voluntarily, selflessly made himself a servant of the needs of those around him. Healing, teaching, and comforting others were his daily routine during his ministry. My mother lived her life the same way. She was up late helping teenagers do homework. She was awakened during the night by crying toddlers. Then, she was up early making rice cereal, with biscuits from scratch; french toast, with homemade maple syrup; or a number of other gourmet farm-style breakfasts which all required significant time and effort to prepare and serve. All this to say that through these acts of service and many others my mother placed her children’s needs above her own comforts. She wore out her life in service to her husband, eleven children, and several unofficial foster children. If there were a certain number of hours of selfless service required by heaven for a mother to gain “angel status”, my mother would have earned “angel mother status” many times over.

 

If daily preparation of gourmet farm-style breakfast for eleven children, a husband, and several foster children through the years sounds like a heavy burden, then you don’t know my mother. She enjoyed it! If you’re saying to yourself, “Whipping up a batch of french toast doesn’t take that much time or effort.” Then you should also consider that she used to make fresh bread from fresh ground wheat flour. 

 

Finishing breakfast was not the end of her morning routine, it was just half of it. The other half was making home made lunches for the same hungry crew. At one point she was making nine home made lunches everyday before sending us all off to school. We would go through six or seven loaves of her delicious homemade whole wheat bread every week! Each lunch was made to order, with the exact right number, and type of sandwiches, according to our request. Young kids might eat half a sandwich. High School age boys could eat two or three sandwiches. I remember that two and a half sandwiches was my regular request, while in high school. Home bottled pickles, or hand washed and sliced carrot sticks from the garden were often the side dish, with a homemade cookie for dessert.

 

With so many mouths to feed at the breakfast table, who would take the time to fulfill such specific requests for a home made lunch? Why not make them all the same, and let “father’s discipline” handle any complaints? I think “father’s discipline” just might have something to say if one of my children had the following lunch request: “I’ll have one half chicken sandwich, one whole peanut butter and honey sandwich, one half peanut butter and homemade strawberry jam sandwich, and one half tuna fish sandwich.” The fact that my mother was eager to make our lunches exactly like we wanted them is an important story in itself, and a great life lesson. 

 


The Story: I may not have all the details right, but I remember hearing that for the first few years of their married life, my father had tuna fish sandwiches everyday for lunch. The kind man that he is, led him to express his gratitude for my mother’s efforts in preparing him a home made lunch everyday. My father may have mentioned several times how much he enjoyed tuna fish sandwiches in the beginning, but he eventually got tired of them. I remember hearing him years later, as he lamented the fact that he had eaten too many tuna fish sandwiches for lunch. He recounted, “I was so sick of tuna fish sandwiches, that I never wanted to eat one again.” It was an emotional moment when he finally admitted to mom that he was tired of eating tuna fish sandwiches everyday. Although I wasn’t there, I heard she cried because she felt bad about making him eat the same thing everyday for so long. But, instead of being offended, she spent the next forty years taking food requests. And so, it was not unusual for us kids to request several different types of sandwiches for lunch. It was nice to have a mother who catered to our requests. I remember getting a bit tired of chicken sandwiches at one point. I also remember sharing my peanut butter and honey sandwich with my cousin Justin. I could have as many sandwiches as I wanted, so it wasn’t an inconvenience to share, and he loved having a little more. The crux of the matter is that her humility quelled her pride enough to turn the “too many tuna fish sandwiches” experience into a lifelong opportunity to minister to many specific lunch requests. 

The Life Lesson: Getting to request what I wanted for lunch everyday made me feel loved. Growing up and realizing the propensity my mother had for nurturing our needs while catering to our culinary biases taught me about Christ-like love. She exuded the kind of love that makes you feel like your preferences are important enough to attend to. That kind of love expressed regularly and sincerely like she did, made me feel like I had infinite worth. That kind of love sticks to the soul like no other. I’m not advocating for all parents to cater to their childrens every request, lest our children become overly picky eaters, with diminished self reliance. However, from first hand experience I do recommend trying to make your children feel like their wants, needs, and preferences are valued, because it makes a child feel loved- especially when the service is rendered sincerely, and selflessly.

 

Running errands for us children, and getting us to our various activities was time consuming to say the least. So it must have been annoying for her to bring my football uniform to school because I had forgotten it at home. I know that this forgetfulness was exemplified by many of my siblings thereby making use of mom’s same-day-shuttle services on a regular basis. This may not be a big deal, until you know that (at least to my knowledge) she never complained, even when it happened way too often through the years. In fact, I don’t even remember her scolding us for our forgetfulness, which forced her to waste time, and gas money playing delivery woman. On the contrary, she felt it was her responsibility to help us be more organized, and prepared before we left home. She viewed her role as a mother like that: a teacher and trainer. It was as if she was thinking, “What can I do to help this child?” Rather than, “This child needs to be more organized, and less forgetful.” I was forgetful, and I really appreciated that she never criticized me. Rather, her Christ-like loving attitude reframed my forgetfulness: She often worried that I was too busy, and involved in too many things for a teenager. She defended me by blaming my forgetfulness on my over involvement. To defend someone even when they are weak, or in the wrong shows that you can truly empathize with them; you see things from their perspective. It shows true christ-like love. I left my brand new (literally day old) astro turf shoes in the dressing room while trying on pants. They were gone when I went back to get them. I left my new (a few months old) levi jacket in the middle of the field at a track meet. She patiently drove me back to the track as soon as I realized I’d forgotten it, but it was gone.

 

Always on the run, attending to the needs of one and then another, she was a selfless servant of our needs. From four or five o’clock in the morning until ten or eleven o’clock at night she was occupied with cooking, cleaning, washing, and other household duties. We could have helped a lot more than we did, but she often said she enjoyed taking care of us. As I got older I realized how tired she always was, and how many burdens she had on her shoulders. As I watched her stay up until after midnight helping my older brother with homework, keeping the laundry going, then get up at 4:30 am to make breakfast before early morning seminary, or freshman basketball practice, and make sure the laundry was dry before we were off to school, I made myself a promise. Sometime in my early teen years I decided that I would do everything I could do by myself. That may sound extreme, but I honestly had a deep seated feeling that she was running herself ragged. She was wearing thin, and exhausting herself with all the burdens she bore. I made sure I always had my homework done, so I would not need her help. I kept my own room clean. I did some of my own laundry. I say some, because she would often collect it from my room. I even started cutting my own hair, because of course we never went to the barber, mom cut our hair. When Delton was a senior we had Matt Sanders, and Brett Dillie. The two little girls’ hair could grow without needing a regular trim, but that left nine boys, including dad, who needed regular haircuts. 

 

During football season she washed all of our football game uniforms at least weekly, and often had to wash practice uniforms and underclothing after every use. So when I say that she kept the laundry running day and night, I’m not exaggerating. I could hear it as I fell asleep, or when I woke up in the night. I remember her getting up during the night to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer, so they would be dry for school the next day. 

 

There were too many burdens for one person to bear, too many needs for one mother to meet. I remember a point at which I realized that she had no personal time, no “me time”. She had no hobbies, no outlets, and no relaxation or relief from her burdens. (Of course she had hobbies, but during this period of her life, she never had time to indulge in such things.) So I promised myself I would not add to her burdens in any way. Over the years she began to notice that I did not need her help, and there were a few times when she expressed the desire to help me. We had a memorable discussion about this, and I came away feeling that she honestly was a bit hurt that I did not want her help. It brought her happiness to selflessly fulfill our needs, and I did not understand that at the time. She voluntarily made herself a selfless servant of the needs of those around her; healing, teaching, and comforting others were her daily routine during her lifetime. 

 

Talented Teacher

 

My first piano teacher, my first voice teacher was my mother. I just learned the basics from her, but it was enough to set me on a path of musical aspirations, and self reliance. Fifty cents an hour was our encouragement to practice. But, my inspiration to learn to sing came from two things. The first was how I felt when she sang me to sleep as a young child. It was the most peaceful soothing thing as a child. As I mentioned, “When Joseph went to Bethlehem” was one of my favorite songs. I loved to imagine Joseph and Mary making their journey to Bethlehem as described in the song. It had a powerful effect on my testimony of Jesus Christ. I distinctly remember feeling inspired and touched by the message of the song. As there was no room in the Inn, there is often no room in a busy parents life for singing children to sleep, but mom always took the time to tend to our needs. How one mother can do so many of these impactful things for so many different children could be called a miracle of inspired motherhood. 

 

My only lessons in cooking, and my only lessons in sewing came from my mother. I am not a chef of any accomplishment, but I learned many life skills from her in order to be self reliant. One day she told us she was going to teach us how to crochet. We each got to choose a color of yarn we wanted to work with. I chose pink, and although my older brothers laughed, and said that pink was a girl color, she defended me. She kindly informed them that it was ok for a boy to like pink. I was so excited to learn to crochet, and she was coming home with a ball of pink yarn just for me! I remember watching for the car to drive up the driveway, then running down the lawn toward the pine trees to meet her as she drove up the hill toward the house. I don’t remember all the things we made, but beyond basic crocheting skills, I learned how to sew buttons back onto clothes, and I even learned how to use the sewing machine. 

 

One year for Christmas I made a pillow for Kirsten. It was about eighteen inches long, and twelve inches wide, more like a couch pillow, than a bed pillow. It was stuffed with batting cotton, and made with a soft cotton fabric which had a print of a raccoon on it. It was Kirsten’s favorite pillow for quite some time, and she carried it around to play with during the day, as well as refusing to sleep with any other pillow at night. I remember my older sister Lara helping me finish this project because mom was busy with so many Christmas preparations. 

 

Church activities consumed much of our time. I remember giving talks in primary before I could read. She helped me plan out my talk with pictures. We practiced until I could say a sentence or two about each picture. She would stand beside me and hold up the pictures for the rest of the children to see as I gave my talk. On a few occasions we used several pictures that illustrated a concept like the plan of salvation, which we put all on one page. She then laminated the page, so I could hold it up myself and give one explanation after another following the diagrams and pictures on the page as I explained the plan of salvation. 

 

My last day in primary, I sang a solo. We spent significant time practicing and preparing the song which was called “A Young Boy Prayed.” I had it learned perfectly, and the performance went flawlessly. The primary children and teachers were all very complimentary, and so was mom. That experience gave me confidence to perform, and built my self esteem. 

 

In my early teen years she taught me two songs that I still sing today. “O Holy Night” and “Oh Divine Redeemer” have both been songs I’ve loved performing on many occasions throughout the years. What a blessing it was that mom was a talented enough teacher to accompany me on those songs, and teach me how to sing them. 

 

Hinge Points toward Salvation

 

I believe that the way we live and interact with those around us has a significant effect on the salvation of their souls, as well as our own souls. There are turning points in everyone’s life, experiences that affect us so significantly that they could be viewed as hinge points in our progression toward salvation. My mother was the type of person who created those hinge points which set people on a trajectory toward salvation. Pointing people toward the Savior Jesus Christ in word and deed, she created hinge points toward salvation for us children, for several foster children, and others in the community.

 

One of those hinge points in my life was at my mission farewell. She spoke about a time when my younger brother Dan and I had helped a girl from school. I had forgotten about that experience, which occurred more than a year before. Furthermore, it didn’t seem that significant to me at the time. However, when I heard it from the perspective of my mother, it changed me. In the way she spoke, I could hear and feel how pleased she was, and how important it was to her as a mother that her boys had the kindness to do what we had done. Dan was a junior in High School, and the starting quarterback. I was a senior, the team captain, and the star running back. Some might say we were the popular kids. I would not personally emphasize our popularity, but others saw it as unusual that the football stars were willing to go out of their way to help someone in need. The girl was overweight, and although I knew most everyone’s name in our High School of 600 kids, I did not know her name. Dan was driving, and I was in the passenger’s seat. As we turned onto hill road headed toward the High School, I could see that this girl had just wrecked on her bicycle. I told Dan to pull over. I got out, helped her brush the gravel off her bare knees, which were scraped and bloody, and then helped her sit in the passenger’s seat of the truck. I hopped into the back of the truck with her bicycle, since there wasn’t really room for three in the cab of the little red pickup. Once we arrived at school, I parked her bike in the bike rack and walked her to the nurse’s office. After telling the office staff that she had wrecked on her bicycle and that she needed some help cleaning and bandaging her scrapes, I forgot about the whole experience. I did not feel like a Good Samaritan at the time, nor did I feel like I had done anything significant. It wasn’t until I heard my mother tearfully recount the experience, as if I had been a “Good Samaritan”, that I realized how significant it was to her to see her son do as the Savior would have done. It was then that I realized that she – my mother, and my teacher – deserved as much credit for raising good kids, as I did for doing the good deed. The retelling of the experience from her perspective opened my mind to the depth of her love for me. The satisfaction she felt for our willingness to help someone in need was evident as she retold the story. I had lived up to her expectations, and that made me feel worthy of God’s love and respect as well as her admiration. That kind of spiritual validation from my mother did something inside me that I can’t fully explain. It was a hinge point which pointed me toward the Savior. 

 

Great and talented teachers are inspired. They have an ability to say the right thing at the right time, to teach the most important lessons of life amidst the most important moments of our life. She told that story about the girl on the bicycle at my mission farewell. But for me the most impactful thing she said during that sacrament meeting was. “I never had to do anything to raise Devin.” That was a hinge point toward salvation. My clandestined introspective promise to “never do anything to add to her burdens” had materialized at the perfect moment into the greatest maternal accolade I had ever received at that point in my life. She did not hand out compliments like hors d’oeuvres at a party. She was honest, straight forward, even critical at times, and did not throw praise around lightly. The greatest compliment, and the most impactful thing she ever said was on her deathbed. It was personal enough that I won’t recount it, but I will just mention that when she complimented someone, she was sincere. My mission farewell was the right place, right time, and it was the perfect thing to say at the perfect moment! It was a truly inspired compliment, because of course she never knew I had made myself the promise to “never do anything to add to her burdens”. I’ll never forget the feelings of spiritual validation I felt that day, thanks to the inspired teaching of my mother.

 

Inspired Warnings

 

My mother had a knack for giving inspired warnings. There was a swing which hung from the beam in the downstairs family room. We often swang too high on it, so that our feet would touch the ceiling on both sides as we swang. One day she warned us not to swing so high, and shortly after one of the kids fell off and got a bit banged up. The swing came out of the J-Hook lag bolt because we had swung too high. The family room floor had thin carpet without carpet pad underneath, so it was almost like landing on cement. If we had listened we would have been free from harm. These kinds of inspired warnings preceded many of our childhood traumas.

 

Changing hand sprinkler lines for Rod Panike was a common summer job for several of us boys. The Honda NightHawk 650 Motorcycle was my mode of transportation the summer before my senior year of High School. The 5:00 am late August morning air was quite cold. Although I had been riding without a helmet all summer, one evening near the end of the summer, mother said, “You know Devin, you really should wear a helmet when you ride to work.” We never, ever wore helmets when riding dirt bikes! If she had asked me to wear a helmet to ride up and down the dirt hills at Uncle Wendell’s house, I doubt I would have listened. However, it made sense that riding to work on pavement was different from riding the dirt hills. So, as I walked out the sliding door of the family room early in the morning, the words of caution that my mother had given me the evening before, sprung into my mind like a prophetic warning. 

 

It was an unusually cool morning. “The helmet would keep the wind off my ears…It’d keep me warm,” I thought, as I paused in the doorway feeling the cold breeze on my face. I turned around, went back to the coat closet, and put on a heavy winter coat, gloves, and (thanks to my mother) I grabbed my Dad’s old orange helmet. 

 

I had hardly noticed the two feet wide strip of pavement which had been dug up to lay a pipe under the road the day before when I passed over it. However this particular morning, after a bit of settling, and a light rain during the night, the gravel-dirt they had filled the trench with had settled enough that the road was now quite uneven. Just past Norm & Joan Wood’s house, I rode over the now sunken, and uneven trench across the road. With a light grip on the handle bars, the uneven trench was just enough to wobble the front tire. Riding at somewhere between 60 and 70 mph, the front tire flipped to one side, and the Honda NightHawk Motorcycle laid down flat on it’s side, while I soared into the air, head first toward the pavement. Instinctively, I curled into a ball, doing a front flip as I was thrown from the motorcycle seat. I landed on the right side of my head, cracking the faceplate of the helmet, and on my right shoulder bruising the top of my shoulder bone. Landing on the cold hard pavement just as I curled into a ball, I rolled along the pavement- as if parkour summer-salts were second nature, of course they were not. I don’t know how many times I rolled, but after several turns I found myself on my feet, running, then jogging, and gradually slowing down to a stop. In disbelief I stood in the middle of the road – on my feet – processing the fact that I had just Superman dove off a motorcycle going roughly 65 mph, and I was alive! 

 

They say, “There’s a first time for everything.” It was the first time I’d wrecked on pavement; First time I’d done a front flip going roughly 65 mph; (I had done many front and back flips on the ground, and off diving boards, but never going 65 mph, and never starting from a motorcycle); First time I’d landed on my head in a motorcycle accident, and miraculously for the first time in my life, I had been wearing a helmet! I think there may have been an occasion or two as a child that I had worn a helmet, but as a grown boy, I did not own a helmet, and I had never worn one before this tragic, yet miraculous day when I needed it most. It saved my life! My mother had saved my life with her inspired warning to wear it! Obedience to her suggestion had saved my life. 

 

And, let me be clear…nothing but the miraculous power of heaven could have planned and orchestrated the acrobatic front flip onto my father’s durable helmet, absorbing the most dangerous portion of the blow, and then the following summer-salts dissipating the potential road rash that could have skinned me alive. Then in some strange feet of cat-like reflexes transitioning from a human bowling ball rolling down the road onto my feet at the exact right speed to be able to run the last few yards as I gradually slowed to a stop. Nothing but heaven could have caused all those devilish details of speed, inertia, force, impact, and rotation to come together in such perfect harmony in order to preserve me from serious injury. 

 

I wonder how many people have wrecked on pavement, no broken bones, no other serious injuries, ended up on their feet, and walked away without any visible injuries. I wouldn’t be surprised if I were the only one. 

 

The motorcycle had slid 20 or 30 yards further ahead off the road and into the fence. 

I left the motorcycle in the barrow pit and walked back to the Wood’s house. Joan answered the door, and did not notice that anything was wrong, because as I said, I had no visible injuries. I casually asked her if I could use her phone. She led me into their kitchen, and handed me the phone. When mom answered, I asked if she could come and get me at the Wood’s house. 

 

“Why?” She asked. Not wanting to cause Joan Wood to faint, who was within ear shot, but who had stepped away to give me a bit of privacy, I replied to mom’s question, “I’ll tell you when you get here.” And then with a seriousness in my voice I knew my mother recognized, I emphasized, “Can you please just come and get me as soon as you can.” 

 

I could tell I was not seriously injured, so I didn’t want Joan to call an ambulance. I felt it was best to just have mom come and pick me up. But, I was sore, my right shoe was ripped open, and my toes were bleeding. I could feel the scrapes and bruises on my knees and back. Most of all, I was scared, and a bit faint. I had just escaped death, due to the inspired warning of my mother to wear a helmet, but emotionally I was frazzled. After picking me up, I recounted to her what had happened, and to my surprise she was calm and told me I was lucky. She took me home, and dressed my wounds. 

 

Below is the poetic rendition of the motorcycle incident which I prepared for her funeral:

 

En Route to the Farm

By Devin G Walker

 

En route to the farm one autumn morning

My life was saved by my mother’s warning

Riding helmet-less each previous warm day

One crisp fall morning my mother did say

“You know Devin, you really should wear a helmet when you ride to work.”

As I stepped outside cold breeze chilled my face 

Her words recalled to mind like heav’nly grace

I’d heard her warnings before and took note

So I grabbed a helmet, my gloves and coat

Not far from the house my tire hit a bump

I flew off the bike onto my head with a thump

I rolled, and rolled with a clunk and a clang

Then slowed to a jog while to my feet I sprang

Standing there stunned, motorbike in the weed

I had flown through the air at freeway speed

But now stood on my feet alive and well

Oh what a story to mother I’d tell

Her warning had saved me from certain harm

My first day with helmet en route to the farm

 

©01/08/2021 Devin G Walker in loving memory of my mother Marianne Kofoed Walker

 

One day we were looking at pictures, and several of us children were laughing and talking about the family pictures. Mom made a point with significant emotion to tell us to never make fun of the way someone smiled. She said that while they were growing up one of her siblings had made fun of the way her brother Kay smiled in one of their family pictures. He was a young boy at the time of the picture, and he had a big gummy, and toothy smile in the family picture. I don’t know exactly what was said, but I remember how deeply my mother felt about kindness among siblings in family life. The comment hurt Kay’s feelings, and she said that he never wanted to smile again in a family picture. “I love my brother Kay, and it really hurt his feelings. I don’t want that to happen with any of our kids,” she said. This was an occasion where it was not so much what was said, (the above quote may not be exact, but it’s close) but it was how she said it that affected me. It might sound like she was scolding us, and in a small way she was. She was constantly correcting us as most mothers do. However, in this instance the love I sensed in her, for her brother Kay, and the empathy she felt for his embarrassment was so powerful that it sunk into me and tattooed onto my soul the importance of sibling kindness. It was a typical childish comment turned into a profound teaching moment by a wise mother. Again, it was not so much what was said that impacted me, as it was the depth of her love for her brother Kay: pure, and profound like the Savior’s love for us. 

 

Near the end of high school there was an event planned which I did not want to attend. I had never been rebellious. I don’t think I ever refused to attend a church activity before, but I did not want to attend this camping event. I was busy in school, and other things were more important at the time. The event was planned as a multi-stake young men camping activity called “The Big Event.” The first thing that turned me off was the name, which seemed absurd. I was done with scouting, and I was not interested in camping. I told her I wasn’t going, and she kindly talked it over with me the night before. I don’t remember all that was said, but I do remember her saying that she “felt” -referring to personal inspiration- that it was important for me to attend. So, I went. It turned out to be the most memorable, most fun activity I ever attended as a youth. There were many different stations/activities which were mostly oriented towards physical skills. There were obstacle courses, rope climbing, hiking, and good food. The Caber Toss, or the “log throw” was a traditional Scottish athletic event in which a log, called a “caber” is thrown end over end. It was a test of strength to see how far the log could be thrown. The log was roughly 8 to 10 inches in diameter, and roughly 8 feet long, weighing nearly 100 pounds. It was heavy enough that some kids didn’t even try, and most could just barely hoist it up with help, and give it a shove over the starting line just to have it lay flat a few feet ahead. With the log leaning onto the shoulder and chest extending over the shoulder behind and above the head, with both hands at one end of the log situated between the knees, the athlete squated at the starting line with the log extending several feet above the head. With about 3 feet from hands to shoulders, the majority of the log was leaning up over the shoulder making it top heavy. The technique was to gradually lean the log forward, then thrust up with legs and arms at the same time as the log passed the vertical point and began to fall forward in front of the athlete. Ideally the athlete would throw the log upward and forward at the same moment that the log reached a 45 degree angle in front of the athlete. If thrown at this precise moment the log would optimally spin in the air so that when it hit the ground it would fall forward yielding a longer throw. It was heavy enough that you really couldn’t do much with the log other than get it situated between your knees, and stand up with as much force as you could so as to throw it forward at the 45 degree angle as described. I did it a few times and got the hang of it enough to win, having thrown it maybe 20 or 30 feet. 

 

The athleticism of all the events was what I enjoyed. A few high school friends and I hiked to the top of one of the nearby mountains, and sang “Angel Eyes” at the top of our lungs because we felt we were so high up, and so far away that no one would hear us. When I came home, I thanked my mother for encouraging me to go, and told her that it was surprisingly fun, and I was glad she had insisted that I go. 

 

If I were to highlight a dominant characteristic which I felt impacted my life the most, It would be that Marianne Kofoed Walker was inspired. She was inspired in her teaching, inspired to give life saving warnings, and inspired as she cared for others’ needs in crucial moments to create hinge points toward salvation. 

 

Below is a poem to illustrate this concept written for her funeral:

 

Mother’s Inspiration

By Devin G Walker

 

My mother’s inspiration saved my soul

On more than one occasion kept me whole

She knew just how to teach my youthful mind

And helped me strive to leave the worst behind

 

You might say intuition played a roll

But I know inspiration had control

She often warned of dangers just ahead

And lives were saved by heeding what she said

 

Through her I’ve felt God’s perfect love and peace

The lessons learned from her will never cease

Now angels sing while she makes her ascent

Mother’s inspiration was heaven sent

 

©Copyright 01/07/2021 Devin G Walker in loving memory of my mother Marianne Kofoed Walker

 

In the last few days of her life I had the opportunity to serve her by attending to her needs. I had many moments of inspiration on how to help her be comfortable. Her feet hurt the pressure of the couch, and her tail bone was sore from the lack of movement. Typical Marianne, she did not want to inconvenience anyone, so it was hard to draw out from her how I could help her be comfortable. I had to convince her that I was strong enough to lift her, and hold her while she got up from the couch to use the bathroom. She was so modest, and never viewed herself as the miraculously inspired mother that she was. She undervalued the selfless service she rendered to those around her. She was not self aware of the christ-like love she exuded on many occasions. “I wish you weren’t so far away,” she said, during one of our final conversations. 

Devin: You’ve been an amazing mother.

Marianne: Oh I don’t know.

Devin: You did great! You did so many things other mother’s could not have done.

Marianne: I tried. I loved you so much! (It was how she said it that made such an impact! The sincerity accompanied by a heavenly power was unforgettable.)

 

Then she complimented me for being a good husband, and what she said, and how she said it was revelatory! It was the greatest spiritual validation of my life! So as she had done throughout her life, she ended her life saving souls by giving inspired counsel and compliments that will last an eternity, with a sincerity and love that makes eternal families the ideal to which we all look forward.

 

6/6/2021

DeLon

My all time favorite Primary song is and will always be “When he Comes Again”.  I have sang this song to my children for many years!  Many of them love it and want me to sing it to them still!  The song was published in 1968 and would have been a relatively new song when I was a little boy!  The reason I love this song is the wonderful memories I have of Mom singing it to me many times.  I loved to lay in bed and listen to her wonderful voice singing that beautiful song about my Savior Jesus Christ!  Often times my children will ask me to sing them a song and some of them have their favorite songs and love to hear them.  But they still want this wonderful song sung to them!

Another great memory I have of mom is when I was little I learned a joke about Davey Crocket.  I don’t remember all of the joke but the punch line went something like this.  There was some money left on the table and the little boy came into the house and went to get the money and a ghost said I’m the ghost of Mable table and the money stays on the table. The little boy says well I’m Davey Crocket and the money stays in my pocket!   I remember her having me tell it to several of her sisters and others when I was growing up!

Mom figured out early in life that one thing that would build loving relationships and bonding was food!  I can remember all my life having great dinners around the table as a family!  We would eat as many meals together as we could!  We spent many hours at the table talking about school, work and gospel topics of every kind.  All of it done either at dinner or after dinner.  Sometimes it was hot pudding before bed or frozen fruit milkshakes or home made ice cream.  What every it was it was a treat to sit and talk about what ever topic we discussed.  I attribute much of my Gospel Learning and understanding to these wonderful discussions.  I also feel it laid the way for the wonderful relationship I have with my parents.  I can remember so many nights getting home late from a football game or some other activity and mom would make us diner (sometimes a second dinner) sometimes it was left overs, or waffles or French toast or egg on toast.  She loved to help us and take care of us.  Showing Christlike love and kindness to the ones closest to her!

Another memory I have is the many times mom would come to our house and spend time helping Lisa and I after we had a baby!  She was always willing to come when ever worked for us and she would stay with us and help cook meals and take care of older children and hold the new baby to give Lisa a break and let her rest!  I think she came with ever child we had and spent time helping, holding, and cuddling our children!  She always wanted to help when ever or wherever she could.  Most of our children were born after she was diagnosed with her cancer and she probably did not feel that good through most of it.

Dallan

I had a lot of favorite experiences and wonderful memories. One of the, imagine this, as a young boy, little little boy, laying in your bed and your mom singing the song the grandchildren sang to you, “When He Comes Again,” every night. I remember vividly the times when I asked her to sing it again two or three times. I look back on that and I see that attribute of my mother showing faith. That instilled faith in me. A faith that has led me through my whole life. Imagine going to bed with those memories and what do you dream of? When christ is going to come and what it is going to be like. Remember that and take that from my mother. And as detlon mentioned, later in life I had serious experiences where I watched my mother take a young man into her home, a young man, a teenager, into her home and love him and teach him. Alan McCord. I watched that, she brought him in, got him through high school and created a better life for him. And when I was in grade school, junior high, high school, my mom was there with me while I struggled to do homework sitting at the table for hours. My mom was there, she’d sit by me most of the time. She loved me most. But as you know, she loved us all the most. She gave her life loving us. Christ knew his fold an dHe fed his fold. Marianne, my mom, did that for me and for all of you. She loved us all and I know that and I know that we will see her again because of that faith she instilled in me. Thank you mom. 

Delton

Memories of Mom Walker

I have chosen to put my memories of Mom into categories. Some of my memories will include Dad and other siblings and friends as they are all intertwined.

 

Clothing

Some of my earliest memories of Mom relate to wanting her to sew Indian frays on the sleeves of my long sleeve green plaid shirt. She labored so hard to make it look “real”. I also had a matching pair of green Levi’s that she constantly sewed knee patches on. It was my favorite outfit. [Photo]

 

Along the same “Indian” theme, I remember getting a bow and arrow for one of my early birthdays. Dad really wanted a picture and wanted me to shoot the arrow. Apparently he wanted an “action shot”. In any event, I shot the arrow toward him and I came a little close to hitting him. I remember him getting a little bit angry with me. We never got the action shot, but I do have a photo holding the bow and arrow fully drawn and ready to fly. [photo] I vaguely recall Mom commenting about how Dad was the one that asked for the action shot so he shouldn’t be mad at me for almost shooting him.

 

My next clothing memory was during Junior High. I wanted Star, Guess, and Lawman jeans. Mom and Dad both tried to explain that for the price of one pair of Lawman jeans, I could get three or four pairs of more reasonably priced jeans. I insisted on the Lawman jeans and they acquiesced. Unfortunately those jeans did not last any longer than any other jeans, but they were cool and fashionable. Also, I grew out of them quickly because of that early developer gene.

 

When I was a teenager Powder Jackets were the talk of the town. They were pullovers with a front pocket. The body of the jacket was a solid color and sleeves a different solid color. We all wanted one. Mom found a pattern somewhere and worked many hours sewing Powder Jackets for many of the kids. We loved them and wore them until we grew out of them. They were sturdy.

 

Piano Lessons

 

I think Mom and Dad wanted me to play the piano, maybe like the girls. So, they put me in piano lessons with Dixie Alder. I would ride the bus to the Alder’s house and wait for my time to come up. I didn’t add up to much of piano player but I am thankful that Mom kept me in lessons for a number of years. After that was mostly a failure, they later put me in lessons with an elderly lady named June Gower (sp?). That didn’t last long and I think after that I was a lost cause for being a pianist and I turned to signing.  As a side note however, while I was still in high school Dad did showed me the basics of chording on the piano. I didn’t really make anything of it until my mission but I have always been thankful for the lessons insisted on by both Mom and Dad.

 

Voice Lessons and Music

Most of my voice lessons came from Mom, Dad and the girls, but at one point Mom did send me to Lou Cheney and Linda Walker. Mom was always so encouraging when it came to singing. She has a beautiful singing voice. She also wrote a song for the Young Women many years ago when she was a leader over the group. That inspired me to attempt to write songs as well.

 

Over the years, I settled in on singing as my music outlet of choice. Mom was a wonderful singer herself and gave me appropriate and timely tips through the years. She, along with the girls, somehow arranged for many opportunities for me to sing. I really don’t know how that happened, I just know that I sang for various events or meetings over the years. Mom accompanied me when I was younger and Lara filled in when she was more accomplished. Im eternally grateful for the love Mom and Dad instilled in me. It has positively impacted my entire life.

 

Food

To this day, rice cereal and baking powder biscuits bring feelings of Nostalgia every time we eat them. In my world Mom invented both of them. There’s something about butter or honey or both on Mom’s biscuits along with a bowl of rice cereal. The rice cereal was not quite the same as the Danish made it but it became her own signature breakfast meal that beat the heck out of wheat cereal.

 

Coming home late after games and practices was always a happy time because Mom was always willing to wait up or wake up and fix hot chocolate made from Dark Cocoa, milk toast, or toast some of her delicious homemade bread.  I think the Cocoa may have contributed to my occasional insomnia but I wouldn’t change those late evenings with Mom making pots of hot chocolate from scratch.

 

Mom’s homemade bread blessed my life on so many occasions. I remember coming home school or practice to warm loaves of homemade bread. She always seemed plan it so that a warm batch would come out right when we got home. I’m craving some while writing this…

 

Even up until as late as this summer, 2020, Mom was making bread and delivering it to us for a special treat or as a thank you to the boys for helping out on something. I believe making a loaf of homemade bread was her favorite way to serve others. It was her language of love and appreciation.

 

Homemade lunches always included homemade bread. The lunches were a hot item at school. My friends were envious of the bread. Even more lunches were needed when Brett Dille moved in with us for my sophomore through senior year of high school. And if that wasn’t enough, my senior year Matt Sanders moved into the house as well. I think I remember as many as eleven lunches made by Mom in the mornings when Kira and Kirsten started school.

 

I remember one time we didn’t recognize the meat on the bread. When we inquired, we found out it was bear meat from the bear Dad shot some years earlier. It was interesting.

 

Over the years, Mom has brought loaves of bread, pudding, sheet cake, and other delicious foods for our family to enjoy. It truly was one of her favorite ways of expressing love to her family and those around her.

 

Education

 

I remember Mom emphasizing reading and writing. I didn’t listen very well. Some of the books she made available for me to read or read to me that I remember were Mr. McBroom’s Ghost, Call of the Wild, and the scriptures.

 

The most important memory of her helping me with school work was my research paper. Probably as a Junior in High School. She typed the entire paper for me. I remember her typing and fixing mistakes with white out as we worked together to make it perfect. She stayed up very late into the night to help get it done on time.

 

Mom and Dad of course supported me through college and law school. They were always there for the important milestones.

 

Having said that, school attendance was not the most important thing to Dad, and I think Mom acquiesced in allowing us to miss as many as nine days per semester and 18 days per year. I remember one time reading a letter from the school district about me missing too many days per semester and per year. I’m not sure how they defended our position or exactly what happened, but somehow we were able to pass the various grade levels throughout the years. I don’t recall exactly what we missed school for but it was not from illness. It was mostly likely to go to Boulder Creek, work on the farm, or on some family vacation.

 

Lara

“Who can find a virtuous woman?  For her price is far above rubies.”  Proverbs 31:10

Those are the sweet words that were such a blessing for me to read the night before Mom passed away.

In an effort to reach a personal goal to read the Old Testament from beginning to end again, I periodically added that book of scripture to my daily study.  During the last week of Mom’s life I had been struggling to find something meaningful to me in the book of Proverbs.  I remember feeling quite frustrated the previous night because I was not reading anything that filled my soul or inspired me.  Looking back now, I feel that Heavenly Father prompted me to continue reading on in that book so that at the perfect time the spirit could testify truth to my soul through the words written in Proverbs Chapter 31, verses 10 through 31.   The truth that my Mother was indeed a virtuous woman!  And her value truly was far above rubies.   The feelings that flooded my mind and heart that night were feelings of pure joy and gratitude for the blessing of being raised, nurtured, loved and taught during my  life on earth by a virtuous woman.  That’s my Mom!  An extraordinary, beautiful, faithful, gifted and lovely virtuous woman.  Since her passing, I have had such strong feelings of joy, thankfulness and gratitude for my Mom.  I miss her at times, but mostly I feel so proud of her!  Proud of her for finishing her glorious mission on earth, faithful to the end!

Each verse seemed to describe Mom perfectly and brought memories to mind.

11  The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.

12  She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.

13  She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.

Mom was so good at working willingly with her hands!  One of my early childhood memories is of standing next to her as she worked with her hands using the sewing machine to make MY yellow shirt.  She was sewing matching shirts for her three girls Lori, Lara and LaReesa out of the same yellow fabric.  I loved that fabric and couldn’t wait for mine to be finished so I could wear it!  We were living in the first house Mom and Dad had purchased in Weiser at Route 2 Box 22, Cove Road.  Mom had the sewing machine set up in front of the attic window that faced west.  I remember looking out of that window with feelings of excitement as I watched Mom finish the last few seams in my shirt that would match my sisters.  I would wear it proudly to school on picture day.

14  She is like the merchants’ ships; she bringeth her food from afar.

I remember going with Mom to different orchards in the valley to pick fruit to preserve and bottle each summer.  She would always have a massive canning project that we would help with.  She always organized us to help her but never made us do it on our own.  Later in life I realized that I didn’t know exactly how to bottle and preserve fruit, but I knew that I could do it!  I had the confidence to try it on my own because she gave us the opportunity to help in the family project.  And we didn’t just preserve fruit, we preserved chickens!  Dad would go out to the chicken coup early in the morning and ring the chicken’s necks one by one.  Once the chickens stopped hopping around the lawn with no heads Mom would hang them upside down in a row on the side of the garage or barn.  There they would wait for us to clean out their inside parts and skin them so they could be bagged and frozen for dinner sometime later that year.  Mom really was a miracle worker with food.  She could always make something delicious out of nothing it seemed!

One of my favorite memories of Mom and food was when she helped me make a special Family Home Evening treat.  It was my turn to make the treat and she didn’t just take the easy way out and buy something.  She made vanilla and chocolate pudding and then helped me layer them in tall glass parfait cups.  I was so proud to serve such a delicious and beautiful dessert to my family that night!

15   She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.

I love having a hot breakfast every morning.  It doesn’t matter how early I have to head out the door, I always want to eat breakfast before I leave.  I believe that I developed this habit because Mom ALWAYS made sure we had a hot breakfast of waffles, pancakes, or hot rice cereal with homemade biscuits.  She had a magical way of making everything taste so delicious!

16  She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.

We learned the value of working in the dirt as we planted a garden every year.  We did weed the garden, but I remember that most years by the end of the summer the weeds had taken over the garden.  Although the garden was not perfect, the lessons learned from the law of the harvest have still blessed my life.

17  She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.

Mom’s arms were so strong!  They were definitely strengthened by carrying each of her 11 babies around as she went about her daily activities of caring for her home and family.  That’s a lot of years of carrying babies and her arms were strong enough for the task!  One day I remember Mom giving me the opportunity to strengthen my arms.  My job was cleaning the carpet on one particular day and the vacuum was broken.  I remember Mom having me sweep the carpet with a broom.  Right then and there I vowed that I would never have a broken vacuum or sweep carpet again!  I hated doing that!

18  She perceiveth that merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.

19  She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.

20  She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.

Mom was a perfect example of Christ-like reaching forth to those in need.  I remember looking up the stairs into the kitchen late at night many times and seeing her sitting at the typewriter with Alan McCord next to her.  She helped him write many papers for his English class after she had tucked all of her young children into bed for the night.  She reached forth her hands and her heart to many in need and blessed them with her life changing love and service.

21  She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.

22  She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.

Mom clothed me in a light pink, silky Prom dress that she made for me my Junior year of high school.  The fabric was actually pink taffeta which is not very easy to work with when sewing but Mom was always up to the task what ever it was!

23  Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.

Dad always sat among the elders on the stand during Sacrament Meeting.  It was Mom’s responsibility to get us all up, fed, dressed, and to Sacrament Meeting on time by herself.  And getting there was only half of the battle!  Keeping all of her children corralled on, under, or close to the chapel bench may have been the greater task.  Mom did it all while looking beautiful and put together with a smile on her face.  She was a great helpmeet for Dad!

I remember keeping myself quiet during a Sacrament Meeting by rolling my knee-high socks down and then back up over and over again.  Years later while cleaning up my own children’s things after a Sacrament Meeting in the Weiser Chapel I spotted my younger siblings names, Kira and Derrel,  written in crayon on the underneath side of the chapel bench.  This was the same bench that our family sat on when I was a child.   I am thankful for Mom’s efforts in getting us to church each Sunday and nurturing our testimonies even though it may not have been easy or perfect.

24  She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.

25  Strength and honour are her clothing and she shall rejoice in time to come.

26  She openeth her mouth with siwdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.

27  She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.

Mom took special care to look well to the ways of each child in her home.  I loved to play the piano!  Even though she had a home full of children of all ages and interests, she always made arrangements for me to have the piano lessons I wanted that fit my schedule.  When my schedule became busier during middle school she arranged for me to have lessons in the morning before school so that I could continue to be involved in sports after school.  Dad would drop me off for lessons at 7:30 a.m. at the home of my teacher Emily Mowry.  Then at about 8:00 a.m. Mrs. Mowry would warm up her light blue Volkswagen Bug and drive me four or five blocks to the middle school.   A few years later at the beginning of my Senior year of high School, Mom made arrangements for me to have another very good piano teacher in Payette.  With the pressures of a Senior year I soon felt too overwhelmed to continue with piano lessons.  I remember sharing my feelings about lessons with Mom.  Although she had spent time making the arrangements for my lessons, she didn’t get angry with me or pressure me to continue.  She just took care of it and cancelled my piano lessons.  Mom continued to be involved in the details of my life as I went off to college.  She made sure that arrangements were made for me to have private piano lessons from a teacher in the music department at BYU.  I am so thankful for Mom’s efforts to look well to the ways of her household, which in part, was me and my love of playing the piano.

I was confident that she would always be there to support me whenever I performed.  So confident in fact, that when I sang a special duet in our Park School  5th Grade Christmas Program I didn’t even tell her.  I wanted it to be a surprise and knew that she would be there no matter what.  And she was always there.  Two vivid memories I have are of Mom are looking up to meet her eyes after finishing a piano solo at the District Festival and seeing her up in the Boise State bleachers at the state track meet holding baby Kirsten who was six months old.  She was always there!

 

The ability to work long and hard was definitely one of Mom’s strongest attributes.  She certainly did not eat the bread of idleness!  I hardly ever saw her take time for herself.  She even preferred to cut and perm her own hair instead of go to a salon.  We kept coaxing her to go to the salon and treat herself to a hair cut and style.  Finally, she decided to try the salon.  As soon as she came home from her hair appointment we could tell that she didn’t like it.  I actually think she hated it and never tried the hair salon again!  The only time I remember her taking time to do something she wanted was when she spent time writing a song.  The song was based on the scripture in Joshua 24:15 and was titled “Choose This Day”.   The truth is she wrote the song for us.  It was a way to share her testimony and encourage her children to choose Jesus Christ.

28  Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.

29  Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.

30  Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.

31  Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

Love you Mom!  Thanks for being a virtuous woman!

 

Lori

A treasured, lasting memory of Mom that sums up my experience with her as a Mother, is how she tenderly sang “I wonder When He Comes Again” to us most evenings as we went to sleep. Very fitting as she now has lived to see the year 2020 and she hoped the Second Coming would  be soon!!  She also, read scripture stories , told us scripture stories, had wonderful family home evening’s and taught us principles throughout the days of our lives, very wisely working them into our daily activities.
“No love in mortality comes closer to approximating the pure love of Jesus Christ than the selfless love a devoted mother has for her child.” (Elder Jeffery R  Holland) We all know the truthfulness of this because of our wonderful Mother!

A mother impresses upon her children everything they become, in my life, this includes: faith, work, a desire to achieve goals and an understanding of how to be a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ.

One of my earliest memories of mom is her example of teaching the importance of work. She found joy in work and want her children to as well. Mom accomplished this by asking us to help her with jobs and as we matured, she would let us tackle things ourselves, coaching us as needed.  She told me how as a young girl, she used to help Grandma Kofoed frequently clean, polish and shine the hardwood floors in their New Plymouth home, Mom worked along side her Mother to shine the floor, then they would stand back and say to each other, “See how it shines!!” Mom told me to always look back on a job and find the work accomplished as a pleasure!! “Find the shine so to speak”,  it was a beautiful life lesson and I still find myself doing it today! See it shine! A job well done!
Mom taught us observe boundaries. When I was age 5, maybe 4, our family lived in a trailer park in Moscow, Idaho. Demonstrating great independence, I rode my bike to the grocery store with my friend without asking, Mom was permanently damaged with “fear of parenting” from that point on! She was terribly exasperated at my disappearance!! This choice of mine lead to a great level of frustration in her, which lead to her imprinting me with the knowledge to never go any where without asking!  ( picture)

Mom loved her babies so tenderly. Dad built a beautiful cradle made of wood and hung it from the ceiling, between the kitchen and dinning room. I saw each of my 10 younger siblings welcomed into her loving arms and heart. She would cuddle them, hold them and smile, comforted and nourish them to great health and well being.
Mom was always involved in our education often requiring extreme efforts in her part, she was very intelligent herself and this lead our family’s way through years of academics. On the humorous side, when we first moved to Weiser, after Dad finished Law School, we lived in a small house near Eldon and Eliane Chandler. I went to first and second grade on the school bus from that home.  One day, Mom was livid when in second grade, I came home and told her we were learning “Cursive” at school. She immediately thought I was learning “to curse” and told me “I should never do that, and that it was bad!” I went to school a little worried but today, I have pretty nice cursive. Ha!Ha!

Mom loved to see potential in her children. My senior year, spring of 1982 Mom and I sang a duet at the Mother/Daughter breakfast held at the Weiser Golf Course Club House. As many know, Mom frequently sewed our clothing, and that day, I remember wearing a beautiful lavender flowered dress that she had sewn for me and how we practice singing together and performed “I Often Go Walking”.  It was one of life’s complete moments; I stood there with my mother, literally clothed in her efforts; my senior year, in front of all my friends and their mothers, in a dress she made me, singing a song that she loved, from the gospel she loved! I felt immense love and completeness that day which carried me through the years ahead.
Later the same year, I remember she took me to an upscale dress shop in Boise to buy a dress suit for the interview portion of the Washington County pageant. She helped me feel beautiful and spoke complements buoying up my confidence. This is something she did well and often and is a key ingredient to her children’s successes!! Through the pageant experience, though I didn’t want to be in it, as it was not my nature or personality to do something like that,  I learned a different side of myself. This paid great dividends in the future as I became a more refined adult. (The truth is, Dad’s secretary was in charge of the pageant in our area so I was “roped into it.”) Because of Mom’s methods of encouragement, I learned to try new opportunities! Over all, trying something new was a positive experience for me and a great parental success, as it pulled me out of a shell of shyness and lack of confidence.
Being inclusive and nonjudgmental is a priceless skill, Mom definitely was and example of this trait. Our beloved friend Lou Cheney and Mom had a wonderful relationship, Mom felt judgments toward her when they first met but later admired Lou greatly. Lou helped all of us children prepare to perform and sing in public. As a side note, Lou’s daughter Michelle was a dear friend of mine, she used to laugh at me as I prepared for a pageant. Well, actually we laughed together about the experience. The Cheney’s were tremendous people and helped so many of us. Years later, when Mom was visiting us in Louisiana, Madeline was asked to give a talk in church about being nonjudgemental. Mom  shared a beautiful story about learning not to judge, an account of her early interactions with Lou Cheney. Mom told how when Lou moved into our ward, Mom was so intimidated by her! Lou was always dressed perfectly, had a gorgeous hairdo, a beautiful, well trained voice, was an accomplished musician and had a very put together life. On the other hand Mom had a lot of young kids and was swamped at that point in life and felt very disheveled and exhausted. The contrasts of their life styles caused Mom to recoil and feel like she did like Lou and wanted to stay away from her. I think they eventually were called to serve together in a calling at church and judgments were dissolved. Mom found out Lou wanted to have more children and actually admired Mom for her accomplishments and family responsibilities! 
Madeleine’s talk, using this experience about Lou Cheney was touching. How different they were but became best friends- don’t judge!!
All Roosters- The Ultimate Chicken Story: 

  1. As many of you had experiences with chickens and they were our main sustenances, I thought I would not leave out that Mom and Dad grew in there ability as chicken farmers. One spring, in order to save money they bought 100 baby chickens on discount because they were all roosters.  No one seemed concerned with of this small detail, I was solely in charge of feeding and tending them for several months. I didn’t mind the job because I could hurry with chicken job, then go play with the horses for hours while Lara and LaReesa tackled the endless laundry and dishes! Well, gradually a problem arose with the coop full of roosters. By about July, when I opened the door to feed these roosters, all I saw was claws!! In an effort to continue to do my job, I would carry a big stick when I opened the door to fight them back so they wouldn’t kill me before I dumped in their food and water. It was awful!! I spoke to Mom about this problem and she said I was exaggerating. Well, as luck would have it, I had to go off to girls camp. When, I returned from girls camp a week later, I dutifully went out to feed the chickens and the coop was empty. When I ask Mom where the chickens were, she said Dad had killed them because they were mean!! Good thing I went to girls camp.  Every year we hang a special ornament on our Christmas tree. It is heart shaped and has “Home is close to the heart” written on it. Mom sent it to me on my mission, as missionaries we didn’t have a tree so we hung it on our house plant. I know Mom chose this because she wanted “home to be close to our hearts.” She worked to accomplish this with every fiber of her being!! And succeeded because we loved our home experience!! Another very favorite memory is when Mom helped me find my apartment on 7th East in Provo. We both admit we felt the prompt of the Holy Ghost lead us to that specific apartment but at the time did not know why until we looked back. Ted and I were placed in the same FHE group and met there that year. We knew we were guided to fine each other. Yes and I have been blessed so much by Mom!! Ted loves Mom!! She is like a second Mother to him. I know he is not the only in-law to feels this way. So much loves radiated from Mom to her fellow sons and daughters in law that she travels with in this earth life experience.
    Recently, Mom did genealogy research showing Ted and Mom are related two ways. So, they have always felt like kin and actually are! One funny incident Ted wanted me to add, is a memory of how Mom once towed him in a car that wouldn’t start, at an average speed of 65 mph all the way to town!! The tow rope was only 20 foot long so we figure she was late for something and thought that was a good towing speed or was trying to scare him!!
    One summer, about 2015, Ted and I went to a session in the Boise Temple. Mom knew we were planning to go while Mom and Dad were working as shift coordinators. Before we left for Boise Mom called asking us to bring her Chemotherapy pill, she had forgot to bring it and it needed to be taken at a certain time that afternoon. I’ll will never forget  the incredible moment when I walked into the Temple office, there Mom sat, all arrayed in white, her office, chair and book all white, her glow was angelic.
    A more recent memory about Mom, deeply saddened me,  I will never forget it. We had a family fast for Mom on January 3 rd 2021. I woke up in the middle of the night during the fast in greatest anguish! My throat was dry, my thirst was beyond intense and I felt weak. I realize I was feeling Mom’s pain. For a brief moment may have suffered her painful condition.  I  thankful for Mom’s guidance in helping me prepare for dating, a mission, temple marriage and motherhood. In addition to the eternally important guidances, she never missed an opportunity for the practical side of teaching; cooking, cleaning, baking, sewing, serving others, mothering babies and raising children, family traditions and relationships and the list goes on, all of greatest value to the souls of man. It is good to remember our Mother’s impact of greatness will last for generations. I contemplated my seven daughters and how they carry her strengths. Nothing could be greater for the generations ahead. As Elder Holland describes, “No love in mortality comes closer to the pure love of Jesus Christ” our Mother’s Love is a blessing beyond measure.