Mom: "Love the ones you're with."

After we had grown and gone our separate ways, Mom took stock of her life and made a very conscious decision.  She recognized that her children were not likely to ever live close to her.  That being the case, she determined to 'adopt' adult children to relate to.  It became one of the things that gave her life meaning.  "If you can't be with the ones you love, love the ones you're with."

I'm not even sure how many 'children' Mom had.  I know that she and Dad tended to take a special interest in young pastors in their cluster.  There were two families in Wessington Springs that became quite close.  Paul and Robyn, friends of mine from college, remained part of the family for years.  I've reflected a bit on this, and I've come to the conclusion that two things were very important for mom.  One, she had a deep need for loving and nurturing relationships, and two, she clearly wanted to make a difference in people's lives.

Life was not always easy for mom.  Later, when I had shared that I was receiving psychiatric treatment she remarked, "I've often thought that there were times in my life that I might have benefited from that."  Unfortunately for mom, she lived at a time and in a place where psychiatric care was not very accessible.  She ended up doing a bit of self medicating.  Throughout her life she took thyroid because of a deficiency, but clearly used it as a 'pick me up' in the morning.  She also had a running prescription for Benadryl which served as her sleep medication and cure all.  Later in life she would turn to alcohol as a sleep aid, and to 'cure' what was ailing her.  Chemical dependency issues run in families.  It was one legacy that I inherited.

Mom struggled to provide for us throughout the years, making do on a pastor's salary.  Her father was a reasonably well to do 'agri-businessman'.  She resented the poverty of ministry.

One of my early childhood memories was that Mom had determined to collect a silver dollar for each of the six of us, dated for our birth year.  One day, mom sent a couple of us to the store to buy a few things for supper.  She handed us Tim's silver dollar.  It was the only money they had to their name.

During that same time, Dad hunted to put meat on the table.  In 1962 he shot a big bull elk.  Big.  And tough.  Memories from that year included mom beating the meat with a tenderizing hammer, trying in vain to make it edible.  Hamburger stew had to be pressure cooked.  When the hamburger is tough. . .

Mom taught school for three years while we lived in Irene, SD.  We had a '64 Mustang at the time, which Mom would rev up to get started in the morning.  "Mustang Sally" was what my friends nicknamed her.  Mustang Sally.

One of the greatest joys of Mom's life was the lake place.  Grandpa and Grandma Michaelson's estate had been put in "Better Farms", the family corporation, and year after year they'd make distributions which Mom and Dad put toward the purchase of the 'cabin'.  There she was in her element.  She loved hosting people there.

Finally, one of the memories I am most humored by was Mom's desire for grandchildren.  When Arden and Kathryn, or Karla and I, would come home to visit mom would make sure and place a clock radio in the guest room, and would inform us that she'd had found this to be very beneficial for when she and dad needed privacy.  .  .  She also knitted a cute Raggedy Anne and Andy afghan which was designated for the first grandchild.  Karla and I ended up delivering Katie as the first grandbaby.  It was also great that my first call was in Thompson Falls, seventy miles from Mom and Dad's, so for a brief while they could be near us and their grandchildren.  

I dare say that those years as the grandchildren were coming into the world, one by one, were the happiest years of mom's life.  

Miss you Mom.