Trying
to write a tribute to a parent is harder than for other people as when someone
is your parent, you see them differently than the world sees them. Most of the
world loves my mother for the beauty queen she was, or people in our religion
love her for what a great missionary she is, or for the many talks she gave a
youth conferences, firesides or other marked gatherings for our church.
Others,
people in the music world, honor her for her beautiful singing voice, touring
with the Tabernacle Choir for over nine years, teaching music, or writing
songs. Many people loved her for the services she offered running “Charlotte's
Attic – Costume and Gown Rental Business” where they could come and be anyone
from any time in history or even an imaginary being when transformed by her
costumes.
I
love her for different reasons, yet many of the same reasons that others love
her. My earliest memories are of my mother singing me to sleep each night
singing whatever we wanted her to sing but it usually ended up being “Somewhere
Over the Rainbow” as we loved it when she would sing that to us.
I
love her for knowing that a teenage girl needs new clothes from a current
“Mall” store rather than her older sister’s hand-me-downs when that is mostly
what she had known in her life. She spent nearly $300 at the mall one day on
clothes just for me so I would know I was worth having something new and not
just what someone else had grown out of or discarded.
I
love that when I was doing my first baking at age ten, when I read the cookie
recipe as ¼ c. salt rather than ¼ t. and made a really salty batch of cookies,
she didn’t want my first baking experience to be awful, which could have made
me hate cooking. She had the family calculate out how much we needed to
multiply the recipe in order to save the rest of the batter and make “good”
cookies out of it rather than letting me “fail” in my baking attempts. My
brother had to run to the store and fill the car with flour and sugar! We had a
freezer full of cookie dough for a year. Most mothers would have just thrown
away the dough. She KNEW I needed a “win” at that young age being a middle
child and one of 8 kids. It is a story that is often told in our family.
I
love that she put us in “community classes” since private lessons for 8 children
would have been difficult. I took dance, tumbling, gymnastics, art, skiing,
music and many other classes I wouldn’t have been exposed to if she hadn’t
found a way that was inexpensive to give us the opportunity to learn in that
way.
I
love that she would take us on a “ski sluff” day every year on “ladies day” at
the local ski resorts and my sisters and I would get to ski with mom and skip
school for that one day. Unfortunately, she would usually forget sun screen so
everyone would know we had been skiing on our missed day of school!
I
love that she would make any simple thing entertaining for us all. She would
stick us all in the back of our station wagon (we didn’t have seat belts back
then) with all the seats folded down and she would take corners a bit fast so
we could all slide around in the back like a fun amusement park ride! She also
would create games for us on long trips. She would give us “Ding Dongs from
Hostess” and have us make little animals from the tin foil wrapper and then we
would be judged for our animal and the winner would get the last “Twinkie” or
we would play, “Name that Tune” or who can hold their breath for a mile, or the
alphabet game etc.
I
love that she valued education and traded out voice lessons, sewing lessons, art lessons and other items
doing her costume rentals or her dried flower arrangements so that we could
have the opportunity to learn things we couldn’t take at local community center
or classes. She worked hard to give us EVERY opportunity that any child may
have even if they didn’t have 7 siblings.
I
love that she gave me chores so that I could learn how to work. I didn’t
appreciate the “consequence tasks” that I would get if I didn’t finish my
chores on time but she was a VERY hard worker and taught us the meaning of hard
work and the accomplished feeling when we had finished a job or task and done
it well. She never had idle hands. Those blessings have served me well in my
life.
I
love that she sang all the time and continued to perform in plays movies, and share her talents until her death being in choirs until a few months before she died. When I returned to visit after getting
married, I was washing the dishes at her home and was singing a song. She said,
“You must be happy as people only sing to themselves when they are happy.” I
realized that when I was growing up, my mother was always singing. She had a
song on her lips when working, driving, sewing etc.
I
love that my mother finds value in everything. I discovered that when my mother
lived with me for the last three months of her life. I knew she didn’t like to
throw things away, but I finally understood that she was wired that way for a
reason. She would take something others would discard and attach it to
something beautiful and make something new that everyone would want. She did
that with jewelry, clothes, costumes, salty cookies, and people.
It wasn’t until now that I
understood that if she wasn’t that way, she couldn’t have been the great
missionary that she was and is. She would look at people most would be afraid
to approach as we would judge them as misfits or scary. My mother would see the
value in them and give them the gospel and by attaching that person of “no
value” to something of the greatest value, she helped others to see the value
in them! This is why she was such a great missionary as she judged no one and
LOVED everyone and everything!
I
love that my mother taught us to forgive and love others. I remember when a
neighbor boy was throwing rocks at my brother. She asked my brother “Why would
that little boy do something like that?” She took my brother over and made
friends with that boy and his mother. Eventually, that divorced mother and child
joined our church and they were friends for years all because my mother was a
forgiving and loving person and could understand, with empathy, how others were
feeling and taught us to do the same.
I
love that my mother loves and forgives me for my short coming and my
insecurities and loved me through them and, in spite of them. I love that she
rubbed my hard cracked feet when no one else would or when I had no one else to
rub them. I love that when I went through my divorce, my mother called me on my
lowest day, prompted by heavenly angels, and sent me vitamins that helped me
fight on for my children eventually winning custody. Just when I needed a
mother, she was there. Just when my children needed their mother, she was there
to help me get through it so I could keep my girls!
I
love that we sang “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” at her funeral. I love that last
week, a few days after her funeral, someone picked “The Wizard of Oz” to watch
and I came in just as “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” came on. I love that today,
just over a week since her burial; I saw a rainbow just as my youngest daughter
and I needed it. My daughter was standing directly in the center of the
rainbow! I love that even after passing away, my mother is still watching over
us and touching us in the way she can beyond the grave and helping us through
our life situations.
Thank
you mom for not stopping at one or two children or even three or four… Know
that your “Number Five” is missing you and hopes she can honor you with her
life and through the lives of your grand-daughters, and now,
great-grand-daughters!
I LOVE YOU MOM!
Love,
Your Number Five
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