Trip to Mom's - March 2010

A week ago today, Saturday, Gil said let's go see your mom. I had to be back by 10 a.m. on the following Friday, so I said too far. Then I thought why not. Sunday morning I had to teach a class in Relief Society at 11:30 a.m. When that was over, Gil and I packed up, put the dog in the car, and away we went. We dropped Mochi, the dog, off at Elisa's house. Mochi loves to do sleep overs there, as they have two dogs that she loves to torment. Then we drove on to Winnemucca, Nevada. We got up early on Monday and drove into Eagle, Idaho, next to Boise. We got there around 11 a.m. their time. Since we left Winnemucca before there was much open, we were starving. We picked up Mom and took her out to breakfast-she had not eaten either.

We had a quiet day with her at her apartment. Talking, looking at photo albums and interviewing her on video. That was fun. We asked her questions about her childhood memories; we talked about her dating my dad and their subsequent marriage; she gave me some insight into what her life was like as a young mother having three kids in four years. It was great. I learned things I did not know about Mom. While she was talking I was looking at a photo album that had many pictures of her as a teenager. We talked ever so shortly about that time in her life. Then we ran out of tape.

The next day, with new tapes in hand, we drove to south eastern Idaho to a small community called Pingree. My Aunt Margene lives there. Her health is deteriorating and we wanted to see her one more time. As she and Mom, Margene's older sister, talked, I put the video tape on. It was fun to see their interaction. They talked a little about Margene's health. Then they started talking about their childhood together. What a fun time we all had. I learned about them as teens and about my grandparents and aunts and uncles. What a treasure to own now - a verbal history of the two of them. It is not complete in any way, but we have them talking about it all in their voices. How I wish I would have done more of that with others that have gone on before us.

What is your greatest joy? Your greatest sorrow?

I know it sounds cliché, but my greatest joy is my husband. We have been married 40 years—almost 41. We tend to think alike; we finish each other’s questions; when we are not with each other, we are lonesome. It is not always perfect, but it is better than I ever thought I would have, and I am thankful for him every single day of my life. Because of him, I have three great kids and several grandchildren that we both adore. I cannot image my life without him.

My greatest sorrow has been losing my dad. He died when I was only 21 and a day does not go by even yet that I do not think of him. My parents divorced when I was 10, and that is when my sorrow began. I tried to stay close, but the situation did not warrant that. When I was 14, he left and I never heard from him again. Then I received the call that he died in 1970. Going to his funeral was the hardest thing I think I have ever done. I cried constantly. The funeral was held at a mortuary. It was cold and uncomfortable. The singer was horrendous and sang a song that Dad would have died if he heard it. In fact he would not have been pleased with the whole ceremony. Afterwards we went to one of my uncles homes. I could not stop crying. I had to excuse myself and go into a bedroom due to my tears. I never want to experience that severe of sorrow ever again.

Someday I will try to analyze what the sorrow was all about—or at least that extreme depth of sorrow. For now it pains me to even think about it.