We all have our pet phrases that slip off our tongues almost unbidden.  They hide on the peripheral and sneak out through narrow cracks in conversations, leaving us to wonder "why did I say that?"

Well, Mom was no exception in this department.  She had a veritiable library to draw from- perhaps this comes from having lived a long life.  Speaking of life, I don't know how mom managed it when we were growing up- it's busy, raising kids.  There's no time for yourself, you just get swallowed up in this vortex of activity.  Mom and Dad had 4 busy kids, and two full time jobs.  No wonder we weren't allowed to go anywhere.  They were busy enough just keeping us alive. But, I digress...

Pretty is as pretty does....and that's not a threat, that's a promise!

I'd rather take a beating than go downtown!

There's nothing better than a well behaved child or pet.

I used to work at the blind school.

Your father is forever, you kids are just passing through.

Happy happy. ( when she raised her glass of beer/wine )

Look for it- that's what I'd have to do.

Mother mother pin a rose on me.

I'm just like a mushroom, they keep me in the dark and feed me....#*@%!

$#@!... I mean... for heaven's sake!

That's all I can think of for now, I'm sure there are more.  If you can think of any, please send them in :)

Never underestimate the tenacity of a teenager. 

Mom had to get up early for her shifts in the O.R.  She had to leave around 6 a.m. to arrive at Harrison Memorial Hospital every morning for several years.  She would get up early, take a bath ( we didn't have a shower ) and proceed to get ready in the one bathroom our family shared. 

I was the sort of person that needed some quiet time by myself.  The fact that I shared a room most of my life growing up did not afford this possibility.  I liked the early mornings when I'd have a few minutes of time on my own before being thrust into the rhythm of family life.  I too, got up early. 

This became a war between us.  An alarm clock war. She would set her clock for 5:30.  I'd wake up to someone already being in the bathroom.  grrr.  The next morning, I'd set my clock for 5:15, and claim the bathroom as my own first thing.  Her turn to grrrrr.  Then she'd have the audacity to set her alarm for 5:00.  The NERVE.  GAME... ON.  4:30 it is! 

I think she gave up around 4:00 a.m.  Yes, it was childish of me.  But, I was a child, in my defense.  It turned out to be a hollow victory.  The thrill of pissing her off turned out to be more of the reward.  I conceded a few days later, allowing her to have HER space, which she likely needed far more than I did.

Sorry Mom...

Golden Palace.  We loved that place.  Barbeque'd pork with mustard and sesame anyone?

One time when we were out generally making waitstaff cringe, Scott excused himself to use the restroom.  While he was away, the rest of us carefully extracted the fortune from his cookie, wrote something on it, and inserted it back into the cookie just in time.

Scott opened his cookie and read the regular side, the side with the fortune on it.  We, of course, encouraged him to read the other side.  When he read alout "I peed in your rice"  I think his face turned several different shades of red. 

We all had a good laugh about this for many years to come.  Thanks for being such a good sport Scott :)

I think there comes a time in every family when Santa has been exposed as the little man behind the curtain and the magic of having little ones super excited on Christmas morning has passed.  The dawn of cynicism has emerged. 

Mom and Dad, ever the pragmatics, decided one winter to take advantage of the after Christmas sales.  We would, as a family, not purchase anything until after Christmas.  AND, it came to pass that boxing day arrived.  We headed out to the stores.  It was glorious materialistic madness.  Actually, I think they gave us each $200, which was a huge amount of money to us kids.  Mom sat in the car reading and smoking while we ran to and fro from store to store like mice to the cheese at the end of a maze.

In and out of the mall we popped, dropping off sacks of merchandise to the car.  Finally, money spent and energy waning, we all plopped back into the car and drove home.  I think Mom and Dad smiled a lot that Christmas.  They spent $800 and didn't have to go shopping once.  And we all got what we wanted. 

And that, my friends, was the true Spirit of Christmas that year.  I'm not sure, but this might have also been the year that Mom decided to mix it up by cooking Cornish game hens instead of Turkey.  That did not go over well.  I can understand why she would have resorted to this, after having cooked at least 56 turkeys on holidays myself.  Personally, one year I'd like to go out for dinner.  Didn't we go out one year for Chinese?  Van Louies?  Anyways, that's  one Christmas I'll never forget.

I knew Sonna most of her life,  I first met her when we were in the 1st grade at Mora Grade School.I later went to school with her at Lakeview Grade School in about the 3rd grade. We lived right across the street from each other, so we played with each other about every day,we played a lot of catch and croquet. She was a lot better ball player than I was. In the summer we played ball at Lakeview Park.    She was somewhat of a tomboy,I remember the boys never gave her any guff.(Ha. Ha ). I wentt to the Navy in 1945 , and lost contact with her,  later located her in Washington.  My wife , daughter and I went to visit her there.   when she moved to Nampa with her daughter we visited her.  I made her a clock which I think she liked very much.  I called her every year at Christmas and birthday.   Needless to say this year was a terrible shock We loved her very much We will really miss her

Christmas time at our house was usually punctuated by the wrapping fest in Mom and Dad's bedroom.  We'd have gone shopping at the mall and come home with bags of presents for eveyrone and then we'd reconvene in Mom and Dad's bedroom.  It took a long time to wrap all of those presents but we'd emerge with our packages in tow and place them under the tree.

Mom and Dad were forever trying to figure out a way to keep us from finding out what they'd got for us.  One year they resorted to putting numbers on the presents.  This worked pretty well until we unwrapped them and used deductive reasoning to figure out who was which number.  Brats.

The opening of the stockings, or in our case, tube socks, was another fun time.  We'd have to go find one of our own socks to use, not those big bottomless ones they have at the store these days.  Quite often it was some athletic sock.  Friends would look at us with pity, but we didn't know the difference and didn't care.

As I begin to wrap presents in my own bedroom for my own children, I can't help but reflect on those days with humor.  Our family always knew how to laugh and have a good time.  What a bunch of nuts!  I love you all.

Sundays, the mornings that Mom would get us up for church at "Our Lady Star of the Sea"

You know, I never realized how difficult it was to get 4 kids ready for church every week until I've tried it with my 3.  And I have a husband that goes with us and can help corral them- Mom did it on her own.

I think she used the trip to Milt's donuts afterwards as leverage.  We could always be tempted by Milt's delicious donuts, and the prospect of not getting them was enough to keep us mostly in line.  We'd stop by the donut shop and get 2 dozen of those beauties.  I especially coveted the Maple Bars. 

This pattern continued on for many years, until Milts did something to make Mom upset, and she swore she'd never be back, and she never was.  I wish I'd asked her what they did that made her so mad, but it slipped my mind until now.  I guess we'll never know.  Anyways, after Milts was off limits, we went to Dunkin Donuts to get our fix.  The 2 dozen donuts ensured that lunch was taken care of, and we were quiet for quite a while.

Smart woman.

As I can remember, Saturday Mornings were a couple of things.  First off, Dad was trying to get some extra sleep, as he got up and left very early for work at the PSNS.  So when us kids got up to watch Saturday morning cartoons ( at a time when Saturday morning cartoons was an event, not a 24/7 marathon as it is today ) we had to be quiet. 

You can imagine keeping four kids quiet while they were arguing about which cartoon we were going to watch next was not an easy task, and Mom would frequently hiss "BE QUIET!  your father is TRYING TO SLEEP!!!"

On the odd occasion when dad was up and Mom was trying to recover from a night shift, ( trying to sleep ) we would eventually all troop into their room with a bottle of lotion.  "I get a foot!"  "I get a leg!"  "I get an arm!"  would be announced as we claimed our portion of Mom's morning massage.  We'd all climb up on the bed and apply what most certainly was cold lotion to various body parts and start  her "treatment".  She never complained and always said "Thank you so much, that felt very good"

She later told me that she really treasured those mornings as her little ones poured out love, and lotion on her.

I loved hide and seek.  I'd hide in Mom's closet for hours, giggling to myself that no one could find me.  In retrospect, Mom left me there knowing exactly where I was- at least I wasn't getting into trouble or bugging her!  

I also would disappear from my bed.  Mom would find me in the linen closet, or sleeping in my pillowcase under the piano.  Weird. I know.

I'm not quite sure what posessed me to wander off by myself at the County Fair, but I did it regularly and expeditiously.  We wouldn't be there 15 minutes before I'd be off like a shot.  Now that I have kids of my own, I realize what a horrendous thing this is.  Eventually, I was not allowed to go to the Fair. 

Even at 4-H camp I was hiding.  One night during the famous Amos Moses dances I disappeared.  I was just sitting in the forest by myself, but soon the entire camp was calling my name.  One of those moments when you know you're in trouble when.....

I'm sure that had mom ever gotten gray hair I'd have been responsible for most of them with those stunts.  As it was, I got to hear about these escapades for decades after the fact.  Sorry Mom!

Betsy Murdoch is a very special lady.  Besty, or "Bitsy" as mom called her- lovingly looked after Mom for quite some time.  Betsy would come over to Mom's cottage and pour her pills, and more importantly sit and visit with mom several times a week.

Mom loved Betsy- she would often mention her during our phone calls and express great concern when Betsy was not feeling well or had an accident.  Often when I called, Mom was out galavanting around with Betsy, which really meant going to Dr.'s appointments and Costco, her most beloved store.  They would also go out to the YMCA to go swimming together. 

At Mom's memorial service we somehow glaringly did not mention Betsy!  This was not intentional and we all feel awful that Besty was not included in Mom's story, as Betsy was such a big part of it.  Thank you Betsy, for being there when we could not be.  You made such a HUGE difference in Mom's final years.  We cannot thank you enough for your friendship and service.  Many times you were the one there to pick Mom up off the floor, literally and figuratively.  We are forever indebted to you and your husband for your loving care of our beautiful Momma Sonna.

Somehow I thought she'd be with me forever...
a force of nature, like the wind you know-
is never fully erased-

Our daily phone calls anchored me to a world gone mad,
a world I didn't recognize as my own
a world we never really faced-

We'd talk about what she'd had for dinner, what she'd done, who'd made her mad,
She'd tell me when she was feeling lonely, and when she was sad
After 20 or 30 minutes of this, it was the end of our song
She'd say, "Well, I'd better go do something, even if it's wrong" 

My husband would ask "What's up with your mom?"
Nothing much I'd reply-
"Then what did you talk about for so long?!"

I'd be hard pressed to give a detailed reply
How could I express the stories I'd heard, in the broken silences between her words-
The battles she fought on her own...
Depression, anxiety and sometimes boredom came through the phone.


She had a 6th sense when something was not quite right-
"What's wrong Polly" she'd say and I'd know someone saw through my smile
fake and bright.
She had her faults, as we all do- her passive aggressive nature annoyed more than a few-

A force of nature has  been momentarily stilled,
and the wind that pushed my sails, is not filled.
But forces of nature have a way of making themselves known-
and I see her echoed in children of my own-

And I'm so thankful, and exceedingly glad-
that I'm one of the fortunate few that got to make her mad.

( I'm just glad I'm not that guy from the liquor control board ) 

Dec 13, 2014 

Well one thing stands out in the 8 1/2 years Ma lived with Gretchen and I ...this was in the Kent,Wa house...between 2001 to 2005...One day she was out grocery shopping ( probably Costco one of her favorite stores ) :) She came home...I was up in the kitchen, She brought some things in...And I was getting ready to go out and help carry the rest of the bags in...when I noticed this funny little look on her face...Then she proceeded to me that she " Tapped " the garage door....well I figured ok ..just a little Tap ....I went down to get the bags out....and let's just say the right side of the garage  door I could walk thru....needless to say we needed a new garage door.... Lol :)  

                                                                                                              Love you

                                                                                                               Tammy  

I can feel her slipping away...
No Mom, don't go... please stay!'
Hold my hand just one more time
Shoot the breeze, give your thoughts on mine-

I don't want to let you go
It breaks my heart to finally know
You cannot gell your stories to me again,
Now there's a strange silence where I've never been.

Where I used to hear your voice,
Oh God I miss her- if I had the choice...
I'd start that "snail mail" that I'd planned to send
I'd rub her back and neck again.
I'd tell her just how special she was to me
I'd hold her, hug her, set her free. 

There’s a garden far within-

Sticky-fingered hands on loving chin,

Little arms encircled wide, to take both in

To talk, confide…

Little girl grows up so fast-

The time to touch is almost past-

The parents she saw counting noses

Are in truth most precious roses-

Their fragrance grows more sweet with age,

Their true value- who can gage?

When life’s garden a thorn proposes-

She retreats within- to smell her “roses”.

1997 prm

As each year becomes a memory,

and each day slides right on by-

I sometimes pause and reflect upon it,

and sometimes wonder why-

How did it come to pass in me, the lessons she taught caught in my branches-

Leaves of wisdom from great roots

sought water from my mothers answers.

And I gaze upon my two little miracles,

with their eyes in wonder open-

See the world in childish glances

through Mickey Mouse and Grinch colored glasses.

The answers spring to my lips unbidden-

"pretty is as pretty does"... "leave it better than you found it"

and snaps leave my fingers without a cause.

I suppose in all the end I'll see

the past as once I ought to-

And confess the part, it's true I know...

I am my mothers' daughter.

November 1, 2004 prm

Remember when....

Elbows on the table meant walking around the buiidlng....

Where announcements could go one for a really lone time....

Where raising and lowering the flag were a big deal each and every day

When singing was more important than phone....

What were your favorite 4-H camp memory?

Picture taken at Sonna's house in Spokane October 2014.  The were there to help mom move into Maplewood retirement home in Spokane.  We had a wonderful Thanksgiving meal while everyone was there.  Lots of good food and story telling.

Picture taken back in 1984 when Mom went over to Hawaii to visit Dodi.  Sonna Jean and Helen traveled with mom.

Mom loved RVing.  She and dad took off around 1992 in their motorhome and never looked back.  They both loved being on the road and travelled until dad passed away in 1999.  This picture was taken up at Blaine State Park in Washington where they were campground hosts for several summers.

Bitz was Mom's beloved dog.  Bitz traveled everywhere with mom and was her constant companion.