Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts

Monday, June 11, 2012

Birthdays...

June is a month filled with birthdays - Jimmy and Hannah's on the 5th, Mom and William's on the 11th, Shauna's on the 12th, Rich's on the 13th, and Mike's on the 22nd.  Put Father's Day in there and sometimes I feel like I'm "celebrated" out!  But this year I'm just feeling meloncholy.... 

They say that the mother is the heart of a home and that certainly is true for my Mom.  I talked to Dad on Monday but Dad wasn't "home" and I don't think he really will be until he is finally with Mom.  Somehow I wish I could talk to her too.  I actually do talk to her...most often I just ask Heavenly Father to relay information to her...and I know and feel her presence in my life...just wish I could actually see her.  I can't imagine heaven without her. 

Mom was born on the 11th of June 1931 in Ethel, Lewis, Washington to my grandparents, Gilbert and Wanda Bingham Roskelley.  She was named Barbara Jean Roskelley.  She was the fourth child in the family, with Jack 11 years older, Juanita almost 10 years older, and Gale almost five years older.  Vance would be born 18 months later.

I sometimes think I have an impression of the kind of child Mom must have been - a dreamer, kind, in her own world.  She shared with me several times the exasperation that Grandma would have because she just seemed to march to her own drummer. Evidently Uncle Vance would get really frustrated because his evening chore was to dry the dishes but Mom would take so long just to get to the washing that he would be there all evening.  I guess Grandma finally gave her a time limit to get them done or she would have to do the entire work herself because Uncle Vance felt inprisoned by her "lollygagging around".  Grandma told me that she would often tell Mom to go and straighten her room up and get ready to go (wherever they were going) - that she had 10 minutes or something of that sort.  When Grandma would go in she would find that Mom had taken everything out of the drawers and closet and the room was a huge mess because Mom was "cleaning" it.  That propensity stayed with her - I can remember her cleaning closets the same way as a kid.  Dad would complain that the house was destroyed but the drawer or closet was clean!  LOL

When Mom was 7 the family moved to California.  These years were both good and turbulent at the same time.  My Grandfather drank quite heavily at this time and the family dynamic must have been quite stressful.  Mom would tell us that Grandpa had a garage or shed that housed his tools - both garden and otherwise.  Mom would tell us that they were mounted on the wall and an outline was drawn around it as the designated spot for said tool.  As that tool was used it was placed back in its' proper spot AFTER being cleaned, sharpened, oiled, etc.  I guess Grandpa was very meticulous about this and deviation was not tolerated.  Grandma was also very organized and provident living was something the family practiced well.  Rows of canned veggies and fruit as well as flour, sugar, and other stores kept the family cared for, especially during the difficult years of the depression and war.

Mom remembered quite fondly going fishing out on the bay with Grandpa and Uncle Vance.  She loved to fish and she loved the ocean.  Often, when we visited California, she would look out over the bay and there was a wistfulness in her eyes.  I wish I had been more attentive and could ask now about the memories that were evident on her face then....  She would tell us that Grandpa would bring beer out with them when they were fishing and he would give some to her and Vance.  When we lived in Germany she would smell the hops in the brewery behind our home and reminisce about those days with her Dad.  She loved that smell...and she loved beer...or maybe she just loved the memories.

Mom was an extraordinarily creative person - I remember a time in Germany when she and Dad had purchased a second-hand couch and chair for our living room.  It was dark blue...not the best in the world and not the worst either.  They were reluctant to spend a great deal of money on furniture as our situation was temporary and we wouldn't take anything (or much of it) back to the states - temporary for 8 years anyway! LOL  We already had a coffee table, a couple of end tables, and a wooden rocking chair.  It was a hodge-podge of stuff...but not for long.  Mom went to the store, bought some bright yellow flowered fabric and made pillows for the couch, cushions for the rocking chair, and covered the lamp shades and the room looked like a designer had just decorated.  It was truly amazing - and at very little cost. 

I also remember wanting a new dress and deciding I wanted to sew it.  Mom and I selected the fabic but there was only enough to make a size1, the only pattern the store had was for a 16 and I wore an 8...somehow Mom and I got it all done and it became one of my favorite dresses.  When nearly that same episode played out with Desi and prom I had a great deal of enjoyment remembering those times with Mom.  Wanda and I still snicker over Desi's episode and it reminds us all that creativity has more to do with the possibilities we see than the resources we have.

Perhaps the greatest quality my Mom has is her ability to understand and to love unconditionally.  You can tell her anything...and she understands your heart.  She has wisdom, patience, and kindness that is truly Christlike.  My Uncle Vance would often say that he knew the Devil was hoping that she would be his advocate because she would believe in his capacity to change. 

I remember a time when Jimmy and Chad were NOT doing the things they should.  I, older and wiser by 1/2, was sure the answer was tough love...that Mom and Dad needed to hold a firm line and let them suffer the consequences instead of bailing them out all the time.  I stated that emphatically.  To which Mom, with tears in her eyes, stated, "Karen, I just have to believe that charity triumphs everytime."  She was so right and it so did...not right away...but each of us knows that Mom's love for us is pure and true and there is nothing that she won't understand and love us through.

Oh - I so wish I could have a two-way conversation with her...could...actually I know that she is here and understands and knows my heart...I just wish I could hear her voice and listen to her counsel instead of thinking I know what she would say....

I've copied an autobiography she wrote here...but first I want to say how much I love you, Mom.  I hope that you and Dad are reunited soon and that each of us does all that we can so that we can be together forever.  Karen

Personal Story by Barbara Jean Roskelley Pehrson

"My life began at Ethel, Lewis Co., Washington with assistance of one Dr. Ward and my mother, Wamda Bingham, and my father, Gilbert Roskelley on June the 11, 1931 at 1:00 at night. Perhaps this is the reason that I'm a little late at getting started at anything.

"My parents were originally from Smithfield, Cache Co., Utah. I was the fourth child born to my parents and perhaps the reason there weren't too many more. The oldest was Jack Arthur, born on the 15th of Dec. 1919, next Juanita, 19th of Oct. 1921, Melvin Gale, the 13th Nov 1926, myself, then last but far from least, Vance Bingham born 14 of Jan 1933.

"I was blessed at home 3 days after I was born because the missionaries were holding district conference at our house. Our house was known as the "half way house" because it was half way between Portland, Oregon and Tacoma, Washington and the missionaries were regular guests during their travels. When I was about 6 months old the family had a bad siege of illness and mother, though she was so ill herself, managed to bring us all through it. As a result of this illness my father was taken to Bremerton, Washington to a VA hospital to remove the scar tissue from his throat and he stayed there for 3 months. When he was released we moved to Smithfield, Utah. It was here that I attended kindergarten and first grade.

"I can remember taking dancing lessons for which we paid with a pound of butter.

(*Note from Karen - Mom would tell us that she and Uncle Vance loved the freedom they found in Smithfield and played for hours in the fields that were part of this tiny town. When peas were nearing harvest time Mom could easily be found sitting in the midst of the peas, eating them - pods and all. I doubt there was a crop that Mom didn't appreciate!)

"In 1936 my parents got a divorce and my father went to Oakland, California. The following year my mother went out to California and they were remarried by Bishop Cheshire of Vallejo, California. She came back to Smithfield and took us out. My father met us at the train. We lived at 1515 Donald Ave. in Martinez, California. One of the things that is vivid in my mind was sleeping between trains at the Ogden Depot, then also the terrible heat at Roseville, Californa when we stepped off the air conditioned train on a few minutes stopover. We got off to see my aunt.

"We lived in Martinez for a year when we moved to the small residential area of Clyde. Here we lived for 3 years at 162 Norman Ave. There was only one small store called the canteen. From here we took the bus to Concord to attend the Concord Elementary School. It was here that I broke my wrist. Also while we were here, World War II broke out. We still attended the Martinez Ward of the Oakland Stake.

"While we lived in Clyde the missionaries were frequent guests in our home.

"There was an old hotel in Clyed and a large company of soldiers stationed here. They were quite fascinating to me so Vance and I would sit by the hour and watch them drill. Invariably we'd talk to them and I'd tell them I had a pretty sister and they could come down and see her. Some of the characters I brought down to see my sister! We adopted several young fellows and Mother was very good to them. They were so fond of her home-made bread and fried potatoes.

"While we lived in Clyde Jack made several trips on oil tankers overseas. He went to Russian, the Phillipines, Hawaii, and many places. Upon his return from Russia he entered the Air Force. He was sent to the Presidio of Monterey. I can remember spending Christmas 1941 with him there. He had just gotten out of the hospital from mumps and then an attack of appendicitis.

"On Dec. 7, 1941 Pearl Harbor was attacked and in May of 1942 we moved to Concord to a home of our own. It was at 2602 Sycamore St.

"I spent the rest of my grammar school and high school days.

"I graduated from grammar school in June of 1945. Gale was in the service and Jack was in England and France. Jack had married a girl by the name of Hilda Gertrude Marsden. Juanita, at this time, had been in New Orleans, La. as an ammunitions inspector. Gale married Ruth Rhoda.

"My high school years were active but happy ones. Mother worked at the Post Office. I attended Mt. Diablo Union High School. When I was a sophomore mother was in the hospital for an operation, these were difficult years for her as she was having trouble with Daddy besides not feeling well.

"In high school I was active in sports and in journalism. I dated a lot. My life seemed to be centered around our Ward activities. We still belonged to the Martinez Ward.

"One thing that did give me a bad time was poison oak. It is a shrub that grows wild and I was extremely allergic to it. Wherever the pollen would touch me I would break out with water blistes and the affected area would swell. There were many, many times that my eyes and mouth were swollen shut with it.

"We took a couple of vacations about this time. We used to go to Weber Lake, a lake located about 50 miles north of Truckee, California. Then, during the summer when I was a sophomore we took (Mother, Vance and I) a trip to Smithfield, Utah during the summer. While we were on this trip Vance and I learned to drive a car. I nearly took some gas pumps out in Nevada trying to drive the car in the gas stations.

"Also, along in here, Mother and I went by train to Los Angeles. We left about 9:00 one morning. My brother Jack commented on my face, that it was quite flushed. By the time we reached L.A. my eyes were swollen shut. I had been swimming and on a fireside outing the night before. I had poison oak and we weren't able to see a thing until a day or two before we came home. Poor Mom and her vacation.

"During my last year or two of grammar school, Gale was living with and working for a family named Ledfords. They lived in Santa Rita Park near Dos Palos. He went to Dos Palos to school. It was here that he met Ruth, his wife. She taught school at the high school. Gale had a lovely voice and sang in a lot of the school activities. We used to go down for the different things. One time while in the eighth grade I went down and stayed a week with Ruth. This was really a thrill as I thought Gale was tops and I was very proud to go to school and be introduced as his little sister. At this point I am just jotting a few of the things that stand out in my mind.

"My senior year at high school was somewhat of a trying one. I seemed to have been ill quite a lot with just simple things, colds on colds, measles, and poison oak.

"Two weeks before graduation I got a choice case of poison oak and never got back to school. With efforts of one of my teachers, Mrs. White, I graduated. Then graduation night my face, arms, and hands were still quite bad. Mother took me down and drove the car right behind the bleachers (it was held in the stadium). I walked up with the other kids, then right after graduation I went straight home. Some of my friends came over after.

"At the close of the summer in 1949, when 18 years old, I made application to go to the Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. Upon receiving my acceptance, we (my mother and I) made preparations for my trip and stay. I had also received an invitation to visit a family by the name of Russell in Torrington, Wyoming and so it was decided that I might visit them before entering school. During the past summer I had met a young fellow by the name of Jerry Russell and for some strange reason I had it in my mind I wanted to marry him. Mother, being more experienced and wiser than I, realized that he was not the one for me and so felt that if I accepted the invitation and saw this young man in his own home I would realize it my self. Needless to say, a stay of less than the planned time made me aware that though he was a fine young man, he was not of my faith and not the one for me.

"I returned to Provo, Utah and went directly to the dormatory where I was assigned a room. I was there a couple days early due to my terminated visit so very few of the other students had arrived.

"The room which I received was number 339 on the 3rd floor. It was sometimes called the "new dorm 1" as it had just been completed.

"I was to have three roommates who had been there previously and who knew each other. They were Arlene Fernely from Portland, Oregon, Viola Nicholson from Midvale, Utah, and Norma Berrett from Draper, Utah.

"My roommates were exceptionally good to me as they took me in and included me in everything they did. From then on I was introduced and had no difficulty in getting acquianted. Also it was easy for me to learn the accepted procedures of the campus.

"Just before Christmas I made arrangements with the California Club for bus reservations on a bus chartered by them. About two weeks before the vacation I was hospitalized for a nervous condition but on the day school was out I was released in time to catch the bus. I shall never forget the amount of snow that had fallen while in the hospital and the ice cicles which reached from the roofs to the ground. We had a very nice trip home but were in general agreement that we would be happy to get back to Utah and our schooling. A funny things was that even though it wasnt much above 0 degrees in Utah we nearly froze to death in sunny California.

"I continued my schooling and then, on the ninth of March, while studying at the Provo Library I met a young man named Joseph Pehrson. He, along with an old friend who introduced me to Joe, took me home to the dorm that evening. In about a week I received a phone call asking for a date with Joe and from then on I dated him regularly.

"Then about in May Joe asked me if I would marry him. I didn't give him a definite answer as I had been going with a fellow, and was quite fond of him, who was in Tahitit. He had gone with some other return missionaries to take a yacht down to the saints there and would be back in three months. When the time came that Phil was to return I felt pretty sure that it was Joe that I wanted to marry.

"In June when school was out for the summer I returned to my home in Concord, California with the understanding that Joe and I would marry at a later date.

"Along about the 4th of July 1950 Joe made a trip down to Concord to visit with me.

"In August I returned back to Provo, Utah. I came back to school a week early and stayed with my roommate in Draper. I came early in order to be at a shower given for my other roomate who was getting married shortly.

"Along in Oct. of 1950 my parents were applying for a divorce and my Mother was to be operated on so I didn't feel that I could coninue on in school so I withdrew and started working at the telephone company as an operator.

"During the past summer the Korean War had broken and all the young men were being taken into the service so Joe and I felt very unsure as to what we should do about marriage. I continued working and Joe continued his schooling and he also worked at the telephone company.

(*Note by Karen - Mom and Dad had rented an apartment that Mom stayed in during this time and Dad would stay at his Step-mom's or overnight at the telephone company. Mom told me once that she could make Dad angrier than anyone she knew, but she knew he really loved and cared about her. One day they had had a terrible fight. They weren't speaking with one another. Several days went by with no communication. But Dad would always show up with some groceries or make sure a bill was taken care of, leaving a couple of dollars on the table when he left. His efforts to ensure that she was ok and that she had what she needed provided her a great deal of comfort and security, especially considering what was and had been happening at home with her Mom and Dad. His kindness and caring gave her the confidence to marry him.)

"Then, in June, my Mother came through Utah on her vacation. She was going to Yellowstone and Montana. Joe took his vacation and I mine and we went with her. Upon our return I quit my job and returned to California with her.

(Insert by Karen - Mom told me several times that Dad had never really experienced a "vacation" and really enjoyed this trip. He also really appreciated Grandma's cooking and "can do" spirit and joy in finding the good in life - feeling, perhaps for the first time in a long time, a sense of belonging. it was on this trip that my Grandmother realized that Mom and Dad were perhaps more serious than even they knew. She counseled them to get married.)

"About a week later Joe came to Concord, Californa and on July 9, 1951 we were married in my sister's garden at 605 Risdon Road by the bishop of my home ward, Ray Evanson.

(*Note by Karen - Evidently, according to Mom, Dad just showed up. He knew he wanted to get married and he'd traveled to California to persuade Mom. Grandma and Aunt Juanita and Uncle Ted, Uncle Vance, and the rest of the family pitched in to make it happen. They telephoned invitations to family, friends, and ward members. However, I guess they had asked someone in the ward to make the cake but forgot to ask them to the wedding - oops! In the cedar chest is Mom's wedding dress - it is beautiful but down the front of it is a seam encasing red fingernail polish. Mom had decided to touch up her nails just as she was supposed to walk down the aisle, but in doing so she dropped the bottle and spilled the polish all down the front of her dress. Aunt Juanita, ever quick thinking, just put a seam in it and none were the wiser. Uncle Vance also shared a story with me...to the best of my recollection...evidently Dad stayed in Uncle Vance's room...in his double bed. All night long Dad dreamed and slid closer and closer to Uncle Vance...and Uncle Vance spent the night trying to get away from Dad, inching closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Eventually he got up and moved to the couch - wondering what kind of pervert Dad was. LOL)

"After our marriage we returned to Provo, Utah. We lived there about a month in an apartment but then went to Pleasant Grove, Utah and lived with Joe's stepmother until he left for the army on the 18th of Oct. 1951.

(*Note by Karen - Mom related to me that Dad felt a great deal of responsibility for "F" (Grandma Pehrson) and Vere (her retarded or disabled son). By this time Les, June and Faye had all married and gone from home and Dad was all that was left. Grandma Pehrson had a daughter and her family that lived across the street as well as other children from her first marriage, but Dad still felt the weight of their care. Korea and the draft loomed ever present in their lives and rather than be drafted they decided that Dad would enlist, hoping that might give them better chances at a job in the service that would not put him on the frontlines and also knowing that it would give them a chance to establish their own family identity rather than keep Dad feeling responsible. Years later Dad would say that he wished he had not joined the Army but had joined the Air Force instead. He hated the "hurry up and wait" mentality of the Army and the senselessness of so much of what they did. One of his very favorite tv programs was "MASH" and he would laugh and watch episodes over and over again, all the while chortling about how much it was like his experiences in the Army and in Korea. Klinger, Radar, Col. Flagg, Margaret Hoolihan, Ferret-face Frank Burns and all the rest of the cast became emblematic for his experiences there.)

"Joe was sent to Ft. Ord, California. I drove down and it being about 135 miles from Concord, where my mother lived. I shuffled back and forth for about three weeks when Joe was sent to Ft. Riley, Kansas for basic training. He returned to concord on furlough for Christmas, then returned to Ft. Riley. In the meantime I got a job in the Penneys' store in Martinez, California. Joe was then sent in January of 1952 to Vint Hill Farms, Virginia. From there he was transferred to an army post by Ayer, Massachuessetts called Ft. Devens.

"In the middle of February 1952 Mother, my brother Vance, and I drove to Ayer. Here Joe and I found an apartment and mother and Vance returned to concord, California by train.

"We lived in a house in the upstairs apartment at 9 Forest Street. This was a very nice apartent for the amount we paid for it because rent was so high around army bases. The people we rented from were members of the Salvation Army and very wonderful people. They had a 15 year old daughter and the apartment was right in their home. They didn't believe in smoking and drinking and because we were Latter-Day Saints and upheld these standards we were allowed to rent the apartment. We lived here from February 1952 to March 1953.

"In August of 1952 we made a trip out to Salt Lake City and upon our return, on the 13th day of September, we received word that my brother, Gale, had been killed in Korea. His funeral was held the 30th of October 1952 and he was buried in the National Cemetery at San Bruno, California. I was unable to go home for the services as I was expecting a baby and the doctor said he did not want me to travel. Also Joe was to be shipped at any time so we didn't know when or where he would be going.

"On January 16, 1953, in the Ft. Devens hospital, our first little girl was born. We named her Wanda Karen Pehrson. She weighed 9 lb. 3.5 oz, was nearly bald and a beautiful baby.

(*Note from Karen - I was born when the hospital was experiencing a measles epidemic and the hospital was quarantined. Dad didn't get to visit Mom or I in the hospital during the week we were there - just stood outside and waved through the window. Delivery was very difficult for Mom. She lost a lot of blood. She always remembered the "drill sergeant" nurse that would throw fresh bed linens at the patients and expect them to make their beds in the morning.)

"In the middle of March Joe received orders to report to Camp Stoneman at Pittsburgh, California. Pittsburgh is 10 miles from Concord so we returned home. We stopped for a week in Salt Lake City. So at midnight on the 25th of March, after waiting several hours to see our Bishop, Bishop Westover, Joe blessed and named our baby. The next night, the 26th of March, we received our patriarchal blessings and on the following night, the 27th, we took our baby and went to the temple and received our endowments and were sealed.

"We then went home to Concord, California to my mother's home and on the 7th of April Joe reported to Camp Stoneman. On the 14th he sailed on the USS Patrick for Japan from where he was sent to Korea. While he was overseas I stayed with my mother. She purchased a home in Concord, California at 2724 Bonifacio Street.

(*Note by Karen - Dad's time in Japan and Korea would be pivotal for his growth and development and would provide the experiences that would shape his testimoney and steel his resolve to live the gospel. It was here that he actually studied the Book of Mormon and gained an unshakeable knowledge that the Church is true. Dad shared the story of being new to Japan and not knowing how to connect to the Church. One day he was at the infirmary and he saw a guy that he was pretty certain was LDS, however, he wasn't sure and he didn't want to just go up and ask so he decided to whistle "Praise to the Man". He was absolutely delighted when the guy whistled back "Come, Come Ye Saints"! It was a perfect introduction and he was able to learn where the LDS Servicemens' group met for services and attend when he could. Being away from his little family, he has said, was the loneliest time of his life and he knew that he never, ever wanted to be away from them again...and certainly not in the eternities.)

"In the early morning of July 2, 1954 I was called to my father's home at 2602 Sycamore Street by my step-mother (Mrs. Catherine Garvin Roskelley) as my father was ill. Within a couple of hours my father had passed away of a coronary thrombosis (heart attack). His funeral was held July 6, 1954 in the Martinez chapel and he was buried in the Golden Gate National Cemetery at San Bruno, California.

(*Note by Karen - Mom shared that Grandpa had literally died in her arms and his last words to her were to take care of her mother and that he loved her. Mom always wondered how that had made Catherine feel. Mom would tell you that she really thought that Grandpa had loved Grandma all along but through all their difficulties Grandma grew stronger and Grandpa seemed stuck in destructive paths. After their divorce, and through the marriage to Catherine, he had returned to activity in the Church. Grandma would tell me that "the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference or apathy." She had gotten to the point that she didn't care if Grandpa came or went, or anything else...she could invite him into her home and feel absolutely nothing. That was the the opposite of love. To Grandma's credit neither Mom or any of her siblings ever heard a negative thing about their father ever escape her lips...no snarl, no anger, not even bitterness. Mom would say that she was sure those emotions had been there at some points but Grandma had made it a point to never use those emotions against him or his childrens' relationships with their father.)

"On August 25, 1954 my husband returned from overseas. It was such a happy day for us that he was to return to us safe and sound as he had been promised in his patriarchal blessing. Joe's stepmeother, his sister and brother-in-law (Faye and Howard), and his brother and his wife, Marj, came down to see him and meet him. They arrived the night before he was to arrive. That day we arose early after a nearly sleepless night and we all got ready and went to San Francisco to the pier at Ft. Mason where he was to dock. We arrived there just as the boat was docking. When Joe came down the ramp and put his arms around me and kissed me, Karen, then 20 months old, walked up to him and hit mim and told him, "No! My Mommy!" It was some time before she felt it was all right for him to sit next to me or show me any token of affection.

"Joe was stationed once again at Ft Ord, California so I went down with him. We found an apartment in Pacific Grove through the help of "Pop Decker", a kind, elderly Latter-Day Saint there who took servicemen and their families under his arm and helped them.

"We stayed there until October 17, and after a short visit with my mother, we returned to Provo, Utah where we had an apartment waiting for us at Wymount Village on the Brigham Young University Campus. Joe enrolled in school winter quarter. He worked full time at the telephone company and a few months later he was called as ward clerk.

"We spent almost three years at B.Y.U. and they were three trying but truly happy years, for here not only did Joe receive his schooling but we also strengthened our relationship (especially after such a long, difficult separation) and grew together in our testimonies and spiritually. Joe served as a clerk under President Rex Terry, President Theo McKean, and then Bishop Russel D. Lewis.

(*Note from Karen - Mom shared that when Dad returned they had a difficult time readjusting to being together. For a while things had been pretty rocky and Mom had even wondered if the marriage could make it. One night Dad had had meetings with the branch presidency but, long after he should have been home, he finally returned. He told her that the reason for his delay was that he'd stayed to talk to the Branch President. Mom said that she didn't know what they had talked about -although she suspected it was about the difficulties they were having - but from then on things changed. It was a testimony to her that one person can indeed influence everyone around them - for good or bad - and Dad's "change" affected her and their relationship - not that Dad did all the changing - but that because he responded differently she had to change too.

My earliest memories are from this period of time - I went to nursery school while we were there and I remember a kid throwing sand in my hair and getting very upset about it. I remember Mom and Dad taking me to the library on campus to study - I loved it. I remember that is seemed that every morning Mom would fix breakfast and Dad would be holding Mike at the table. Mom would bring over the plates and inevitably Mike would sneeze all over Dad's and he just couldn't eat it after that...for some reason I remember thinking that was funny. LOL Especially because he always reacted the same way, brushing himself off and getting a kleenex or napkin to wipe Mike's nose all the while exclaiming, "Jeez!!!!" I remember riding my trike up and down the sidewalk in from of the apartment complex. One Sunday I got on my bike while Mom, Dad, and Mike were still coming out to get in the car for church. Mom and Dad had told me not to get on it because it was Sunday but I couldn't resist. I promptly lost my balance and toppled over onto the sidewalk. My chin was a bloody mess and needed stitches. (Needless to say we didn't go to church and I just knew that I had fallen because I had disobeyed Mom and Dad and had broken the Sabbath Day). Mom and Dad drove me to the hospital where they proceeded to stitch me up but they had had Mom wait in the waiting room. The nurse ran and got her though because Dad had passed out while they had been giving me the injections...he was always more squemish than Mom. I remember going to see Dad in the hospital when he had his tonsils taken out...while we were there he started to hemoragh and we had to leave...I was pretty upset about that but Mom reassured me that he would be all right. I remember the next day she, Mike, and I went downtown and Mom bought a TV set...our very, very first...and one of the very first in the entire complex. Mom had it delivered and then we went and picked up Dad at the hospital...boy! was Dad surprised! That never happened again, right???? LOL I remember visiting Grandma Pehrson, collecting eggs, picking cherries, and playing with Uncle . I remember that day the Dad graduated...President McKay presenting his diploma...and being a flower girl in Dad's stepsister's wedding that evening. Mom was so right - these were trying times - but really happy times too.)

"It was while we were here that our second baby, a boy, was born. He was born June 22, 1955 and eleven days later Joe blessed him and named him Michael Joseph Pehrson. My mother came to be with me at this time and we so enjoyed having her with us.

"In April 1957 Joe finished his school and was transferred to Salt Lake City with the Telephone Company. We hunted for a house to buy but could not find what we wanted so once again rented an apartment in a duplex at 556 Delno Drive, Salt Lake City, Utah.

"On July 20, 1957 again we were blessed with another baby boy and we named him Derk Oliver Pehrson, after Joe's father as he was born on his birthday. This boy has been a great joy to us also.

"Ten months after we came to Salt Lake my husband was called as a ward clerk to Bishop Robert Tschaggeny.

"In September of 1957 we again began to look for a house and felt we would like to buy the one next to us. We made applicatio for a loan and on February 22, 1958 we moved into our home. It was two years old, a three bedroom block home. We were so happy to have a home of our own.

"On the following July 2nd, Joe was called as Bishop of the MillCreek Second Ward and on the 5th he was sustained. I might add that this was one of the strangest weekends I have spent in my entire life. A time when we searched our very souls seriously and wondered if we were capable of handling the responsibilities. We know now that you can only half realize the magnitude of the calling. We have been so grateful for this experience. It has enriched our lives so much.

"A month after Joe was sustained as Bishop, on August 5, 1958, our third baby boy was born. We named him Brad Allen Pehrson. He was unusually long, 23 inches.

"We have really enjoyed our little family. They are quite close - but now that we have them they are our whole life. What there three boys can't think of isn't worth troubling anyone with. One thing, they sure have fun.

"Karen, at present, is 7, in two weeks she will be baptized. She is taking piano lessons and dancing lessons.

"In August of 1959 we took a 14 year old Navajo girl, named Susie Mae Yazzie, into our home under the Relief Society Indian Student Placement Program. Under this program they come and live with you at your expense for the school year, then they return to their parents for the summer on the reservation. Susie came back to us this year again.

"This life story is part of the requirement for graduation from a genealogy class under Sister Blanche Belcher. I feel it isn't complete with all the things I would like in it, however, it is a start.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

I hate being technologically challenged!!! I really do!!! I was reading the kids' blogs and wanted to post a comment on Desi and Mike's to Emily but I can't get it to work. Go figure! I tried everything I knew, but nada! So, Emily! I am so proud of you! You read the story beautifully and you didn't even get frustrated or anything...just kept sounding out any word that was more difficult! You were AWESOME! :) You'll have to read for me at the family reunion! And I can't wait to see you!

This has been an emotionally difficult week for me. Last week we marked the 1st year of Mom B's passing. We had gone to the cemetery and landscaped her grave - put some plants there and some edging. All the while I noted how much I would love to be able to do that for my Mom's - especially because she loved going to the cemeteries in Germany and seeing how people cared for the graves of loved ones. And, I also noted how often Wanda has said that she wished Mom could be buried in one of the cemeteries in Wisconsin because they give family quite a bit of latitude that way too - and how Mom would have loved it.

On Monday Rich and I headed back to the cemetery to put water on the flowers as we have had no rain to speak of. We had also put a bench at the foot of the grave and so we sat and reminisced about Mom and I think Rich has finally come to terms with her passing. He thought she would always be around and I think it has been hard for him to accept that she isn't with us anymore, except in spirit. I think he still feels a little bit like she is still with Marsha and Blair or back in California - but obviously knows that she isn't.

We know that she really was ready to go - she had been for quite a while. But I think we all feel like if she had had the colonoscopy like she should have then she would still be with us. I know part of her frustration was the fact that her independence was gone as a result of the macular degeneration - but in so many ways I felt like we were just really getting to know her and would have relished more time to do that.

I pulled out her death certificate and wanted to put things in motion to have her work done for her...but it still sits on my desk...not because I have any hesitancy about having the work done...I guess it is because in some respects it really does make her gone. Crazy thinking, I know, but nevertheless, it is the way I feel.

Then, today is the 6th anniversary of my Mom's passing. You would think that it would get easier as time passes...but I think for me it is actually the opposite. I didn't cry really for her when she passed - I was glad that she was no longer suffering and I know that she suffered far more than I even had a clue. However, I have been more emotional and weepy the last couple of days...I miss her so. Several times I have found myself thinking I ought to call her and then pulled quickly back - it isn't like I don't know that she is gone - just that I would so love to talk to her, tell her how much I love her, miss her, and need her. I would love the opportunity to tell her how grateful I am for her example of faith, courage, optimism, love, compassion, creativity, empathy, wisdom, endurance, testimony, and her thirst for knowledge and understanding and that I so admired her and have wanted to be like her all of my life. In many ways I think that is a tremendous compliment to her and the life that she led. Unlike so many in the world today that do not want to be like their parents - the fact is that my parents are wonderful examples and if I could ever develop some of the qualities that they have I would be very lucky. Every time I read the first passage of scripture in the Book of Mormon I think of my parents - "I, Karen, having been born of goodly parents...." I don't know why I was so lucky to be born to them but I am surely grateful to my Father in Heaven that I was.

It wasn't that Mom was without faults...I don't want to procrastinate or be late, or be overweight, or be organizationally challenged...but if those are the only problems she ever had she was a Saint...and in fact she was. She loved the gospel and the Savior and our Heavenly Father. She loved the Book of Mormon, Church History, and Family History. She loved the church and she loved serving in it. She loved watching BYU devotionals, in fact, any talk or religious discussion on BYU tv! She loved BYU football and basketball games - and my dad - enough that she would watch them over and over and over again. LOL She loved the hymns, the Relief Society, and the General Authorities and any counsel they gave. In fact, she loved and could find good in ANY human being because she knew that they are her brothers and sisters, and Heavenly Father's children - a fact that often resulted in an interesting discussion whenever anyone suggested that someone wasn't behaving as a Child of God. And she loved us unconditionally - no matter what we did or didn't do - she loved us and understood us and wanted us to be happy and to live valiantly so that we could all be together in the eternities. In fact, one of her favorite stories was the one about the dog chasing the squirrel and finally getting it and having a chair for every person in the family and not wanting any empty chairs in the Celestial Kingdom. For as long as I can remember she had credited Elder Faust with the story but I think he may have been the one to relay the story to her, but that the story was from another of the twelve.

Mom loved and appreciated beautiful things. I remember going to a crystal factory when we lived in Augsburg. We watched as the craftsmen etched and cut the crystal on a huge grinding wheel - all without benefit of measurement or pattern. All the while she would be teaching us about the intricacies of what they were doing and helping us appreciate the beauty that they were creating. It was the same story on a trip to a china factory - watching the pouring, the firing, painting, glazing, and the firing again of beautiful china. Or her appreciation of German candle making, wood carvings, windmills, tulip fields and gardens, porcelain dolls, stained glass, cathedrals, marble inlaid floors, crystal chandeliers, fine quilting, tatted lace, beautiful embroidery and tapestries, castles or log homes, it didn't matter because she could always find the beauty in something.

I remember her taking a watercolor class in Germany. I recently came across a couple of things that she had started and they are beautiful. I gave them to Chad because I know that he appreciates the fineness of her work and understands and feels a special connection to her because she taught all of us love and appreciate the arts. Mom knew and encouraged the development of the talent and love Chad has for these things - they took a stained glass class together, they did glass etchings together, and she was constantly encouraging him as he worked in construction to do fine and beautiful work - not just functional work.

She did that for each of us. She recognized early Mike's artistic ability and encouraged him in the same way. When Mike first took up oils and acrylics his teachers would have him "copy" the works of the masters. It didn't take long before we liked what Mike could do even better than the masters! LOL She always understood his need for aesthetics...even when it meant hundreds of dollars and great inconvenience. She understood that practicality was important but that beauty could calm the soul. She also recognized that he has a great marketing sense - he is the consummate "idea man" and much of his creativity and expertise comes as a result of his "critical eye" in seeing how things, ideas, and opportunities are presented.

When Derk was a young teen, I remember he wanted a motor for his birthday. Dad didn't want anything of the sort - it would be messy, greasy, oily, and of no use. But Mom realized that Derk has a kind of engineering genius and needed to take things apart, put them back together, to see how things work. One year, on a trip to Scandinavia, our VW bus was having engine problems. We were going through very small villages and long open roads and the bus was obviously on its last legs. However, Derk was able to get out and fiddle with the motor every few miles until we got to a city that had a repair shop that could fix it! Dad was pretty glad to have Derk's skills around that time. LOL Mom gave Derk the encouragement that he needed to pursue his talent and she and Dad always appreciated the fact that he is always coming up with something new or inventing something or knows how to do anything that none of us know. A common mantra has become, "call Derk...he'll know how to fix it!"

When Brad was born Mom had gone through quite a period of depression. She had tried all kinds of things to try to beat it but she struggled for quite a while. Mom and Dad had been concerned about this pregnancy anyway because he was due just one year after Derk was born, Dad was bishop, and I, as the oldest of four was only 5 years old. But with typical faith Mom felt that the Lord would help them through it all. Brad was the quietest and calmest of babies, rarely fussing and easy to love and care for. Those personality traits have always been a part of him and Mom was quick to note that had it not been the case his long hospital stays when he got the fishhook in his eye or when his retina tore would have been far more difficult than they were. Mom was also quick to realize that "still waters run deep" and beneath Brad's easy nature there was a keen intellect, natural leadership, wisdom, and a spine of steel.

Mom's pregnancy with Jimmy was a long and difficult one. She hemorrhaged several times and we nearly lost her and Jimmy because of the placenta previa. Months of bed rest were Mom's lot and she often said that while those months were tremendously difficult - they were also wonderful tutors. I remember spending lots of time on the bed with her while she read to us, taught us, and helped us with everything from childhood squabbles to deciphering recipes. Jimmy was delivered by c-section and 3 weeks later Mom went with us as a family to Timpanogos Cave - now I shudder at the idea but then I was just glad that she was with us. Mom, as usual, was a great student of her children. She learned everything she could about them and then used what she had learned about us to teach us to become our best selves, believing that each of us had strengths and weaknesses. Mom recognized Jimmy's gentle spirit and his great love for nature. She spent many hours camping and fishing with him, and with all of her kids, and enjoying the Uintahs, Payson Lake, Utah Lake, Lake Powell, Bear Lake, and everything in between. She always knew that he would eventually have to leave the Salt Lake Valley for more remote locations and that he would always be his own boss. She recognized he had the intellect, drive, and natural instincts to do whatever he wanted...I don't think she was even surprised when he ran for public office.

When I talked with Dad I knew that it was going to be a very difficult day for him. He misses her so and I think that the 6 years without her have been extraordinarily long. He says that she has been visiting him, many times over these past years, and cannot wait until the day that they are united. I too look forward to that day. I will never be able to thank her enough for all that she did for me and taught me. Her love for me and the rest of her family was unconditional and full of patience, long suffering, and kindness. I will keep trying to measure up to her - because I love her.