Tribute to my Mother

Mom and Dad at Janet's house - I think it was for Thanksgiving the year before she died.

A young mother, mom always took care of us. I always felt safe and secure. The wash hanging on the line is a familiar sight. I think this is in 1961, after Dave was born. (yes, I am the one with the curly hair and pot belly)

Whenever we were on vacation, mom always made sure we had our meals and a good time. This is from our unforgettable trip to Yellowstone. We camped out in a tent.

My mother died two years ago on October 18^th. I have really been thinking of her a lot these past few days. There are times when I miss her so much! She was an incredible person and is a very large part of who I am. Many times I think “how would mom handle this?” or “what would mom say about this.” She was an amazing homemaker and she was ALWAYS there for us. There were many times in my life where she was my dearest and best friend and she seemed to know when I needed her encouragement, even though I lived many miles away as an adult. A few months ago, I was “dejunking” and came across a letter she had written to me in 1983, when I had surgery on my jaw. I read it and was so touched by her desire to help me through this difficult time, though I lived 800 miles away. Her words of encouragement and love, once again, saw me through a tough experience.

People always tell me I look like my mother, and I do. If I can always have a quick and beautiful smile the way she did, then I don’t mind looking like her! Even more, though, I would like to BE like her in her stalwart testimony of the gospel, her drive to always be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and in her constant and unwavering service to her family and friends. I don’t think my mom ever wasted one minute . . . she always had something to work on.

Each of her children spoke at her funeral. This is what I had to say:

Mother’s Hands

Sunday, as I was sitting with Mom in the hospital, I held her hand. As I stroked her soft, and worn hand thoughts came of many things those sweet and aged hands had accomplished during her life. These are some of my thoughts about Mother’s hands…

The small trusting hand of a faithful little girl reaching for her grandmother’s hand as they walked the 3 miles to church. They would carry a rag to dust off their shoes before going in to the meeting.

The hungry hands of a small child, anxious for a meal. She grew up in very poor circumstances and sometimes they did not know where their next meal was coming from.

Playful hands – Mom loved being involved in sports and always enjoyed a good game of softball. She was so good to sit and play games with her grandchildren. She loved a good party, too, and hosted many wonderful New Year’s Eve events.

Intelligent hands – Mom was always very bright and such a good student. She was proud of the fact that she was valedictorian of her graduating class. She had scholarships to attend BYU as well.

Loving hands – I can just picture her as she would hold hands with her sweetheart in high school. They continued to hold hands their whole life together. Those loving hands gently cared for each new baby that came as a gift to their home. I learned to care for my own babies as she came and helped me when they were born. I also learned how much she loved me as I felt the special love only a mother feels for my own sweet daughters.

Working hands – ever industrious and busy, those hands were always kneading dough, canning jam, juice, fruit and pickles, making gingersnaps on a rainy day to entertain her little ones, hanging out the wash, producing beautiful embroidered items, sewing clothing, stitching quilts, crocheting a border, washing windows, cleaning house (I think mom kept the cleanest house I have ever been in!), gardening, tending children for a neighbor. Always putting things away, sometimes before you were done with a project, she even picked up trash as she walked in the mornings. Just a couple of months ago, she even tried to clean a dead cat off the freeway while a flat tire was being changed. I never saw her hands idle. She couldn’t even sit and watch a TV program without something for her hands to work on. Can you believe she would always sigh and say, “I’m just not creative.” I make a challenge to find hands that have created more beauty in more diversified ways than Mom’s.

Hands of discipline – oh yes. I can remember getting in trouble a few times. Mom taught me the importance of telling the truth when I lied about cutting branches off her lilac bush when I was just 4 or 5 years old. I hid the leaves in the trash can thinking she would never know. I just had to have that branch for a fishing pole. I got to choose my own willow from the willow tree that day. I learned that you get in a lot more trouble for lying than just owning up and facing the music.

Hands of Service – Mom lived a lifetime of giving service to her family, the church, neighbors, and all who were fortunate enough to be blessed by her unselfishness. She and Dad served 3 fulltime missions for the church. I can’t even remember all of those who lived with Mom and Dad when they needed a place to stay, or needed special help in some way.

Primping hands – I loved to watch Mother get ready to go out with Dad. She would fix her hair, put on her lipstick and mascara and wear the most stunning dresses. She even filed and painted her fingernails. She was radiant. I though she was so beautiful.

Nursing hands – offered cooling comfort on a fevered brow. She took such wonderful care of us when we were sick. We always had clean sheets. Cream of wheat cereal, Jello, pudding, chicken noodle soup, and 7^up were on the sickbed menu, brought to our beds on a tray with a napkin and a straw!

Hands clasped in prayer. One of my most special memories of mom is when I was 15, and received my Patriarchal Blessing. She fasted that day with me and took me to Patriarch Ridge’s home. He asked her if she would pray before he gave my blessing. We knelt together and I have never felt the spirit of her testimony so strongly as when mother wept as she talked to Father in Heaven as if he were in the room.

Covenant hands. The gospel covenants were not taken lightly. Her temple marriage was sacred and important to her. Partaking of the sacrament was not taken lightly. Temple attendance was always important to mom and dad and our home was blessed because of it. I remember her ironing their temple clothes each time they attended, and she taught me the significance and importance of the temple covenants as I asked her questions. Her Christ-like example and dedication to living the gospel will always live in our hearts.

Hands of tradition – I loved the Thanksgiving and Christmas traditions in our home. Mom always made her special kinds of candies and cookies for the holidays. It was fun to go downstairs and sneak a taste or two of these wonderful sweets. We always got to choose the dinner menu for our birthdays. One tradition that I have not carried on, however, is liver for dinner on Primary day. I don’t think anyone else in the family has continued with that particular tradition either.

United hands – mom was always united with dad on everything. And it was evident that she was united with God.

Teaching hands – I think this is the greatest of all. The things my mother taught me will be with me throughout my life, and I have tried to pass many of these things on to my children. The mothering, the homemaking, the testimony of the gospel. She always gave me the confidence that I could do anything.

What a great example and influence these dear hands have been. Gentle, yet always firm in what is right. These hands of a daughter, sister, wife, mother, cousin, aunt, grandmother, great grandmother, friend, have touched us all and we are better people because her hands have touched our lives.