What I Admired About My Mother:

Since I was from a large family and arrived in the middle of it, I saw my mother with babies. Perhaps not so much with Mark, who is just 3 years younger than me, but definitely with Odene, Sharilee, Shane and Nolana. She was a wonderful mother. The thing that stood out to me was how gentle and patient she was with babies. I watched her bathe, diaper, wrap and feed them with great care. Her love for them was apparent to me even as a young girl. Years later, when I had my own babies, my mother had a very calming effect on them and on me. Any one of my crying children that she held would immediately quiet down and, most of the time, fall asleep. They sensed from her experience and her confidence that all was well. I could also get some much-needed sleep, knowing she was there.

My mother loved to sew. I had heard stories about how, growing up, she would sew clothes for her younger brother and sister, and for their cats. Every year in August, she would sew our school clothes, usually two or three outfits for each of us. Before we wore them to school, however, she would enter them in the Lincoln County Fair and almost without fail, they would win blue ribbons. Her specialty was making new outfits out of old outfits – a skill that served her very well during the Depression and which was appreciated in a large family without a lot of money. I didn’t own a "store-bought" dress until I was a junior in high school. My mother also sewed my wedding dress, which I loved and wore to the temple for many years after I was married.

My mother was a very staunch Mormon from a very faithful Mormon family. On my mother’s side of the family, I was descended from Charles C. Rich, a polygamous Mormon apostle during Brigham Young’s era. My mother attended church meetings faithfully, even when she had to walk there. The only time my mother missed a meeting was when she was too sick to hold up her head. At my mother’s funeral, my older brother, Ross told a story about being a young boy and deciding at the last minute that he wanted to go to church with my mother. Her reaction was a mystery to him at first, because she didn’t seem pleased at all that he wanted to go with her. She actually tried to talk him out of going. When he refused to stay home, she reluctantly allowed him to get ready and go with her, but he noticed that she cried all the way there. It wasn’t until much later that he learned what she was so upset about on that day. He learned that, until that day, she had had a 100 % attendance record, but because she had waited for Ross to get ready and walk with her, she had missed one of her meetings. She may have taken her attendance a bit too seriously, by my standards, but I always did admire her for her steadfastness and determination. Come hell or high water, she was dependable.

After I grew up, I regretted not having been closer to my mother. I regretted not having known her better and I grieved for all the things she gave up in order to be a "good Mormon" wife and mother. For example, she was a very good artist, and I never saw anything that she drew until I was in high school. I don’t remember her ever taking time for herself to just do the things that she loved to do. She was totally dedicated to her family and spent her entire life taking care of us.