Happily Alive at 95 by Elaine Wildman [Read and be amazed at all the things she was doing at 95 years old!]

 As I celebrate  another milestone birthday, I’ll take time to note what it’s like to be 95.
 First, I’m fortunate to be enjoying such good health. I’m several years older than any of my neighbors in these attractive “Cottages by the Creek” but walk briskly past several dependent on walkers or electric scooters. I take a daily batch of vitamins with my glass of orange juice and only two over-the-counter items prescribed by doctors: the daily baby aspirin to avoid dangerous blood clotting (and which makes me bruise easily) and a PreserVision tablet twice a day for my eyes according to my ophthalmologist’s instructions. A brief, early morning Tai Chi routine is another factor in my good health.
  And I’m confidently in charge of my own life. I’ve just filled my patio pots with colorful blooms from a big nursery near Dallas Farmers Market which I located in spite of the street name changes which make our City Council happy. I’m delighted with my cottage at Grace Presbyterian Village with the lovely trees and grassy area. It isn’t easy to fit all the kitchen things in the smaller space, but I find that I do much less cooking than formerly since our noontime meals are so hearty. It’s probably time for this frugal Swede to pitch the package of lasagna noodles I brought with me 2 ½ years ago! With smaller storage space for flatware I’ve devised a system of reversing salad forks and grapefruit spoons in their sections so I can grasp the correct style. It confuses helpful guests, but works well. This is just to illustrate that I’m still managing and adapting.
  Of course, there are some changes I don’t like. Highway construction through town has changed the familiar route north – so I’ve adapted to that by detouring in my neighborhood to get on to the major north freeway nearer its beginning. Talking to robots when calling almost anywhere for information is frustrating because they reel off a bunch of options to ‘press one for . . .’ etc. when none of them fits my query
 The full size washer and dryer here work well though I still miss having a back yard to hang out the wash. Sheets aren’t as crisp and flat when tumbled and the fitted sheet irritatingly devours most of the smaller stuff. I love my large walk-in shower with grab bar and enough space to set a bench if I ever need to sit.  Having moved out of the little house I lived in for 58 years to a spot with more modern stuff, I’m really pleased.
 I’m still driving my 2013 Corolla, though restrict the travel. Rare night driving is only to nearby familiar, well-lighted spots. In fact, even day time driving is on well-known routes with left turns at protected lights. My trunk is usually full of recycling materials (the Village doesn’t recycle) including several bags contributed by neighbors. I drop them in the recycle bin at the home of a League of Women Voters friend as we car pool to meetings.
  I keep with local, national and international news, listening regularly to NPR, watching evening news and reading the daily newspaper. I read a wide range of books: biographies, mysteries, historical fiction. A recent direction has been to look at the world from different perspectives: An Islamic History of the world, An Indigenous Peoples History of the United States and I’m looking for Strangers in their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right.
  I attend the Unitarian Universalist I helped found 56 years ago and watch with amazement the new styles of gathering and worshipping that appeal to the younger generations. This is the 25th year that I’ve volunteered at the elementary school Mike and Lisa attended – helping kindergarten teachers enrich their programs, substituting, and currently tutoring the distracted ones who need extra help learning to read. It’s such fun by the end of the year to see them enjoying “Hop on Pop” or “Bears on Wheels” and satisfying to watch the Pre-Ks print their names carefully on the line, bravely making the tails of p, q, y, and j go below.
  I’m still active with the Vasa Lodge, enjoying learning more about my Swedish heritage. I just resigned from the task of newsletter editor because placing all the news attractively on the pages became too difficult. I’m happy with the role of Cultural Leader since thinking up programs has always been a forte and I’m curious about everything.
 There are some negatives to growing old.  We spend our lives learning to do new things and to do things better, it’s hard to absorb the reality that things go downhill.
  Everything doesn’t work as well as I’d like. My hearing aids absorb too much background noise in spite of a program to diminish it (I’m about to try some new ones) so that lunch conversations are irritatingly difficult. I complain loudly that retirement centers are uniformly adapted for residents with mobility problems but ignore the needs of the larger percentage of us with hearing problems, but adaptation is a long term capital improvement, so nothing gets done.
  And my vision is changing so I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to drive at all. The diagnosis is macular degeneration, the dry form that results in fuzzy vision in my lower left eye. It’s slowly developing so I adapt and adjust. I can’t scan the newspaper or a book for rapid reading, doing a crossword is slower as I double check the clue number and sometimes get it wrong. I’m beginning to appreciate Large Print books which were formerly irritating. It’s harder to find dropped items. My new credit card is designed with tiny type so I can hardly read the number. I give up on reading articles artfully printed with grey type on black pages. Magnifying glasses are handy.
  And there is the almost universal problem resulting from a prolapsed bladder. Oh, it’s so annoying to have to wear pads all the time. Even though I get up 4-5 times during the night to empty my bladder, it is still soaking in the morning, and don’t dare skip making a trip to the loo every couple of hours.

   But life is wonderful! I enjoy new friends and old ones, the memories of travels and friends from long ago.  An artist resident has arranged a studio for our use and I’m taking sketching/drawing class, pleased with the new accomplishment. . . drawing from Gratiot Lake photographs, of course.


 

 
   

My Aunt Elaine was an amazing woman. She was also an inspiration to everyone that knew her. At age seven she inspired me (probably unknowingly) to tell time. We were swimming at a large community pool when she asked me to find out the time. Maybe it was her authoritative voice, or my fear of sounding dumb. I'm really not exactly sure why I didnt just say " i can't tell time." Instead I jumped out of the pool and started my long walk to THE CLOCK. ( Jaws theme song would have been approriate on this walk). Panic set in when there was no one to ask what time it was. Pretty sure I prayed to magically learn to tell time. Then I had an idea I started rubbing my eyes and as I walked back I started rubbing them harder and harder. I told Aunt Elaine the chlorine had burned my eyes and I couldn't even see the clock. She
looked puzzled for a minute and then said " Well I think it's time to go so get your towel and we'll head home. It wasnt long after that that I learned to tell time and it felt so good.

Through the years she continued to inspire. In 2002 she brought a large kitchen chef's knife through Dallas and Atlanta airports ( a wedding gift for my youngest daughter). I thought my sister was joking when she said "Aunt Elaine drove from Texas to Minnesota." I was stunned because she was in her eighties. Even more stunning, she continued those trips many times after. Her Happy New Year letters confirmed her positivity and zest for life. "I'm 97 and still walking the uphill block to the main building for lunch and activities." I asked my mother (Tommy's sister) to please find out
what vitamins Aunt Elaine is taking and thought to myself she would be an awesome spokesperson for a vitamin supplement. Actually her energy and enthusiasm could not be bottled. She was a natural. A spokesperson for living life to it's fullest.

God has graced us all with different gifts. Aunt Elaine's gift was inspiring others.

I think she is at peace but not sure about the resting.

Why I Like Li1n1g at the Villages of Dallas by Elaine Wildman

  First, it’s a friendly place. Helpful staff know us by name and greet me cheerily. From the wizard at thee front desk who keeps track of where we’re going and what we need to the manager of buildings and grounds who sends capable staff to fix a stove problem or carry boxes into the attic, we’re well taken care of. 
  And we have friendly neighbors, primarily retired professionals, who are ready to discuss current events, share travel adventures or lend a cup of sugar. Many are still active in community and church activities.
  And then the grounds are beautiful. Living in a cottage, I sit out on my patio to eat breakfast and enjoy watching a squirrel run up the big black walnut tree. Residents living in the Wings or Assisted Living look out their windows at crepe myrtles, oak and walnut trees. I walk across am attractive bridge to go up to the main buildings for lunch and other activities, enjoying the rush of water after a heavy rain.
 There are choices regarding the style of living space. I like the attractive nine-sided cottages scattered on a grassy area with gentle slopes. High ceilings make male a one- or two-bedroom unit feel spacious.  A friend prefers traditional right angles and a group of cottages closer to the front gate fit that bill. . . with small gardens out the back door.
 Another advantage is the ease of moving from one area to another as growing older limits mobility. Friends and familiar activities are still there for residents who want more services or need Assisted Living.
 The Memory Care unit is rated among the top facilities in the country. If your doctor recommends physicals or occupational therapy, a top-notch staff is within walking distance
  There are more activities available than I can find time to enjoy. In an art studio we can learn drawing or painting. A variety of entertainers come to liven afternoons. Movies, a Book Group, Fiber Arts activities and many other choices fill the calendar. The swimming pool, exercise machine room and wellness activity center with exercise classes are handy and available - all at no additional cost. 
 And I tell all my friends to move sooner rather than later. Move while you still have the energy to adjust to a new place, make new friends and try out new interests.
                   
Elaine Wildman, 4 year resident

When we were 90, Elaine and I decided to do a Road Trip. Taking turns driving, we got to the outskirts of Houston. l couldn't see the way to Galveston going across the city, so we circled it instead. 'Went through all the petroleum area, arriving in Galveston just in time for the worst freeze! We ate our main meal each day at a different famous restaurant. They were delighted to have us and didn't frown when we asked that our portions be shared. There was no line. Instead, these 90 year olds were treated to fine hospitality. And Elaine was perfectly comfortable because she'd brought her "cuddle-downs".

For Grief
   by John O’Donohue

When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown weary with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.

More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until the coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From the gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.

When I was a young child, my Aunt Elaine taught me to swim when nobody else could. My parents had tried everything – they splashed with me in the water, held me while I kicked, enrolled me in swim classes. Nothing worked. Then one day, Elaine took me into the swimming pool (water over my head), bounced me up and down a couple times, then tossed me as far away from her as she could and said, “ok, Becky, swim to me”. She barked out this order with such an authoritative voice that I was afraid NOT to do what she requested. So, I swam to her, and have been swimming ever since! That was Elaine, doing what needed to be done.

I feel very fortunate to live close enough to the UP of Michigan, to have been able to visit Elaine at Gratiot Lake several times. I will always treasure the memories of those visits and the simple summer joys that Elaine so fully embraced. Nothing was fancy, and fancy wasn’t important to Elaine. Eating breakfast on her tiny wooden porch, barely big enough for two folding chairs and two t.v. trays, while watching the morning sunlight sparkle on the water of Gratiot Lake, was Elaine’s perfect way to start the day. Every day (unless it was pouring rain) included a blueberry picking expedition. Getting to the best picking spot was an adventure, as Elaine always insisted on driving, even years after she should have turned in her license! I’ll always remember not only the blueberries, but also the picnics at a pretty spot on a bluff overlooking the big lake, sitting in those same folding chairs, with pasties in hand. Another simple joy. And then the baking of delicious blueberry desserts. On one visit, Aunt Elaine had prepared a beautiful wild blueberry pie. But, as she was taking it out of the oven, it slipped out of her hand and fell upside down on the floor. Not a bit flustered by this, Elaine quickly scooped it up, put the blueberry mess back in the pan, and said “Well now it’s cobbler” (and it was still delicious).

Elaine did have a stubborn streak. Once, when she came to visit us in Washburn, she insisted on going on a day trip out to the Sand Barrens to pick wild blueberries, even though my friends had already been there and reported that there was not a berry to be found that year. Elaine persisted, and we went, but even Elaine could not find a single blueberry. Did it matter? Not really. Although she would have preferred to fill her cut-off milk jug with berries, we enjoyed the sunshine, had a picnic along the way, and in the end, it was a very pleasant day.

Because of Elaine, I do Tai Chi almost every morning. And I often think of our last visit, on a trip to the UP with Elaine, Mike, and Sean. We’d stroll down to her cabin in the early morning and ask, Where’s Elaine? She’d be up on the observation deck near the Eagle Harbor lighthouse. Looking out over Lake Superior. Doing her Tai Chi.

I believe that Elaine’s spirit will always be nearby, and for that I am grateful.

From the service 10/3:

by Kathleen McTigue

In the struggles we choose for ourselves,
in the ways we move forward in our lives
and bring our world forward with us,

It is right to remember the names of those
who gave us strength in this choice of living,
It is right to name the power of hard lives well-lived.

We share a history with those lives.
We belong to the same motion.
They too were strengthened by what had gone before,
They too were drawn on by the vision of whatmight come to be.

Those who lived before us,
who struggled for justice and suffered injustice before us,
have not melted into the dust,
and have not disappeared

They are with us still,
The lives they lived hold us steady.

Their words remind us and call us back to ourselves.
Their courage and love evoke our own.

We, the living, carry them with us;
we are their voices, their hands and their hearts.

We take them with us,
and with them choose the deeper path of living.

Such a lovely memorial service for Elaine today. It was filled with her love and spirit. Wish I could have been there in person.

Lisa reminded me of some notes I had shared from some phone conversations with Elaine a year ago, and she suggested I might want to share them here. 

10/20/20 Conversation with Elaine

Talked about going to the State Fair with Mike. I told her I bet she was the only 98-year old at the State Fair this year. Perhaps was worthy of an item in the Dallas newspaper! She told me that she went hoping to do two things. One was get a corny dog – and she got two. The other was to ride the ferris wheel which unfortunately she didn’t get to do. It wasn’t running. 

She had been up to the main building yesterday and went to the exercise room. She’s decided she shouldn’t go into the pool when there isn’t anyone else around. Probably a good choice, but too bad that she can’t get into that lovely water.

She talked about how her dad taught her to swim when she was five – in the canal between Houghton and Lake Superior. He held his hand on her stomach while showing her how to stroke with his other arm. He wanted all his children to learn to swim after having watched his brother (Gustav Emil I believe) drown. Somehow, the brother had fallen out of the boat, and he didn’t know how to swim, and the others in the boat watched him go under.

She also remembered their family’s first telephone. And that when it was installed she called her friend Margaret Wieder who lived two houses down the street. And she remembers that Margaret’s phone number was 878. I asked if she remembered her family’s number, but of course she never called herself, so she didn’t remember it.

One other memory that came up was about Friday night dinners on Clark Street. It was just one block long, and all the mothers of children in that block made picnic dinners for their children on Friday nights, and the kids all gathered at the big oak tree at the end of the block for dinner. Elaine commented that the last time she was able to drive down that street, the oak was still there. (This prompted me to go on Goggle Maps to look for the street and tree. The search was successful!)

The conversation ended with both of us planning to have a glass of wine, and toast each other. 

From an earlier conversation a couple of months ago: 
I told Elaine I had joined the League of Women Voters with the hopes of helping people get registered to vote, even in these difficult Covid times. She remembered how she used to go up and down the block on Arborcrest, registering her neighbors to vote and collecting the $1 they had to pay in order to vote. She thought she had done it for about 5 or 6 years, but wasn’t sure when it stopped. I offered that perhaps it was after the 1965 Voter Rights Act passed. What a set of circumstances. Wanting to be sure that people registered so they could participate in voting, but having to be part of the poll tax in order to do that! 

(Full obituary. One in newspaper was shortened. Beth Ferree and I collaborated on this.)

On September 5, 2021, at the age of 99, Elaine Elizabeth Paulson Wildman’s spirit took flight. Likely she is now on the other side picking blueberries, one of her favorite activities when she visited her beloved Michigan.
Elaine was born to Anna Ethel (Bergdahl) and Arvid Crelius Paulson on May 18, 1922, in Upper Michigan’s Copper Country (near Lake Superior) As a child she loved frolicking in the woods, swimming, sledding, and skiing. She worked in a WW2 munitions factory like a real life Rosie the Riveter, while she earned her undergrad and her Master of Social Work degree.
At First Unitarian Church of Dallas she met and married Avenell Thomas Wildman. Into this union three children were born: Michael, Lisa, and Paul. Elaine mourned the premature deaths of her dear son Paul and her dear husband Tom.
Such grief might have crushed some, but Elaine was not one to lose herself in grief. Instead she chose to focus on ways in which she could leave this earth better than she found it. She was very active in the Unitarian Universalist Church of Oak Cliff, where she was one of the founding members, and taught and organized religious education. The church she and Tom helped create was the first chartered UU church in the United States after the Unitarian and Universalists united in 1961. Shortly before her death she was able to participate in the congregation’s 60th anniversary party.
In 1959, she joined with a friend to create the Dallas Association for Parent Education, which still serves parents and children today. The organization offered classes for expectant parents, and on behalf of mothers and babies, lobbied hospitals and doctors to adopt more modern childbirth techniques and to promote breastfeeding. She joined the faculty of Bishop College (an historically black college) and taught Gerontology, Social Work, and general Social Studies. When the college ran out of funds to pay faculty, she continued to work without pay out of love and concern for her students. When the college closed she worked with her son Mike, booking photography services into day care centers and schools throughout the Metroplex.
Always interested in politics, she cast her first ballot to re-elect FDR, never missed an opportunity to vote, and well into her 90s was still helping register voters. She was active in the League of Women Voters and a proud card-carrying member of the American Civil Liberties Union.
Elaine was an avid reader and lifelong student. In later life she sought to learn about her Swedish heritage. She organized programming for the Swedish Vasa Lodge, traveled to Sweden, and organized and danced in a Scandinavian folk dancing group. In her 70s she took Tai Chi classes, and did Tai Chi exercise every morning for years. For 25 years she volunteered to help teach kindergarteners to read at local TG Terry Elementary School. There was little that could dissuade her once she set her sights on a new experience, especially if it could help her community.
Elaine was preceded in death by her husband Tom, her son Paul, and siblings Gene Paulson Hawkins and William Paulson. She is survived by her children, Lisa Wildman and Mike Wildman, as well as her grandchildren, Sean Wildman, Christopher Schiano, and Daniel Schiano, and many beloved nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews, all who basked in the joy of her love. We will all miss her beautiful smile and hugs.


A Celebration of Life will be held at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Oak Cliff on October 3 at 1 PM. The family requests that only those who are fully vaccinated attend in person. The service will be available on Zoom:
https://tinyurl.com/UUCOC-ElaineWildmanMemorial

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Elaine had the genes everyone wants, and she used them to the full. Smart, outgoing, creative, indefatigable, intellectually curious, strong-willed, optimistic, eager to be of use, deeply engaged in the world around her both in the macro and micro issues, she milked the most out of her almost 100 years on the planet. Almost to the end her wide-ranging mind lit on various places and she maintained connections to those she loved. I would guess that her mind would have held up even better if she didn't go through the imposed covid isolation that would be so deleterious to someone so social and engaged.
I first met Elaine at Peter and Lisa's wedding in the 1980s, where despite a broken foot she managed to be very much in the midst of things and assigning needed chores and coordinating whatever she found that needed coordinating.
Elaine was always doing something useful or interesting. If she was actually sitting down, she was winning a Scrabble game, always graciously, or crocheting gifts out of repurposed plastic bags. She always took an active interest in our kids and would have thoughtful little gifts for them (and us) at Christmas. She would be available to talk or play with them and was always up for a field trip, the more educational the better. I am sure that she did a wonderful job with the disadvantaged kindergartners she volunteered with up into her 90s. She may well have made a pivotal difference in many young lives and helped to awaken intellects that were not receiving much other stimulation. She had her sense of timing and of what needed to be done when. Would always take down the Christmas ornaments at Peter and Lisa's on New Year's day while watching the Mummers' parade on tv.
i wryly remember her assiduous vacuuming at what seemed to me to be about 5 or 6am, when Mike and I were sleeping in the basement at Peter and Lisa's first home, until the roaring hoover above our heads intruded. Whatever vices Elaine may or may not have had, and we all have some, sloth was not one of them. Even a broken hip, an injury that puts the brakes on any kind of active life for so many older people, hardly seemed to slow her down long.
I always appreciated her homemade Swedish treats, which she helped me replicate one year when we made Christmas cookies of various nationalities for our son's teachers. It seems to me Elaine may have continued her trips to the upper peninsula of Michigan into her 90s, harvesting her thimbleberries and making jam to share.
Elaine's long life was not easy. She lost her dear son Paul when he was a young boy. This unthinkable blow could have left her bitter, angry, or depressed yet despite the pain she raised Lisa and Mike with all her heart and lived a full rich life. She lost her husband very young and I'm sure after painful periods as he struggled with his health issues, yet again her deep resilience carried her through to decades of rich, meaningful life in widowhood.
The last time I saw Elaine she was in her early to mid-90s and I was surprised to see her actually go up for naps in the afternoons. She didn't have the same energy to stay up for a late night word game or late contra dancing. I had never thought Elaine could be tired! But she was mostly the same engaging and highly alert "Aunt Elaine," as she had our kids call her, and still so much more full of life than many people half her age.
She animatedly showed me pictures of her apartment in the senior complex and told me about her life there, at that time still a fully independent one. I was impressed at how flexible and adaptable she was, moving from her home of so many decades and jumping with both feet into a new life there.
I am sorry that with the lockdown and other issues we did not see Elaine in the last few years of her life. I was so happy to hear that she had caregivers with whom she had a warm rapport, and especially that one was praying the holy Rosary over her as she passed. I wish we could have said goodbye to her. May she be granted eternal rest, or, if she prefers, eternal productive, joyful activity interceding to help those on earth. God bless you, Elaine. May the Blessed Mother fold you in her mantle and bring you to the place of refreshment, light and peace. We will miss you.
love,
Jane 

P.S. Since my connection with Elaine is through Jane, I could not better express Elaine's place in our lives. Her long, healthy life may be what is easy to highlight, but it should not detract from how she lived to almost a full century. I never saw her in Texas, or Michigan, only in Pennsylvania, almost annually between Christmas and New Years, and one time she and Lisa visited us in New York. Many of these visits invariably led to various word games that she and Peter took turns winning, and discussions on wide-ranging topics. For many of these years, seldom did Elaine go to bed before me, though maybe that is not much of an accomplishment. She was not the guest who sat around being waited on. She was a willing participant in trips with young children to dances with the older folk, and those in-between. Even relaxing on the couch, she was active, whether reading one of the several books she picked up from the library, or working on her crochet. And she thoughtfully made sure to make enough coffee for me.--Mike Wigutow

Goodbyes are not forever,
Goodbyes are not the end,
They simply means I’ll miss you,
Until we meet again.

When we were little kids, the weeks leading up to Christmas were full of excitement and anticipation. We’d watch for the Post Office truck driving down the street, hoping it would stop at our house. And when it did, there would be a big brown box with multiple brightly-colored packages inside. Boxes arrived from each set of grandparents, and also boxes from our aunts and uncles. Presents from our grandparents were of course more substantial, and they were often tipped off by our parents about what was on our Christmas lists, so we knew those boxes would have things we wanted. Presents from our aunts and uncles were less predictable. 

But presents from Aunt Elaine were special. Even when she was a schoolteacher living in Topeka and didn’t have much money to spare, the presents from her were always a surprise, something we’d never heard of, something we didn’t know we would want, something she had made, or something to all three of us together (“the 3 B’s”) that somehow was great for three siblings of two genders across five years of age difference. Aunt Elaine’s presents were always the best. Let’s face it; she was magic. 

Please visit the Unitarian Universalist Church of Oak Cliff's page honoring Elaine.
https://oakcliffuu.org/EW

I will forever be grateful to Elaine for recognizing my leadership abilities and encouraging me to take on a role in the church "to continue her legacy." Your memory will forever be a blessing to me.

First of all, I would like to thank Beverly Hawkins for posting her memories. I loved learning about that part of Elaine's life!

Elaine was one of the first people I met when I stepped inside the Unitarian Universalist Church of Oak Cliff. Her smile was genuine and contagious. Her love for the church, its members as well as each visitor was genuine. I learned so much from Elaine as I sat with her in our TalkBack circle and when I served with her on committees. As others said, Elaine lived her principles in every situation.

I will miss the space Elaine provided for us to feel and to grow.

My sincerest condolences to Elaine's family and her multitude of friends.

The values and life skills I learned from my grandmother are a lighthouse that will continue to guide me throughout my life. Her influence on me cannot be overstated. I think of her as a third parent and a central figure in my life.

I am incredibly proud of her...

For living her values.
For raising three children.
For always looking at the bright side.
For the jam, pies, pancakes, and Christmas cookies.
For the UUCOC.
For loving three grandchildren.
For loving her nieces and nephews.
For loving her friends.
For reinventing herself again and again as needed.
For staying honest and frank until the end.
For beating COVID.
For being.

Love

The defining characteristic for me, when I think of Elaine, is that she lived her values. Each of us has our own values, and we honor them on occasion, as called for. But Elaine truly lived her days in keeping with her values. There were the simpler ones of the frugality demonstrated by the purchase of a sewing machine so she could make her own clothes, and those of her children, as well as re-upholster a couch and make drapes. Or the Depression era lesson of waste-not-want-not demonstrated by her description of what to do with the food in the fridge or freezer when she had to travel to different lodgings in the Upper Peninsula during a summer. There was lots of food that had to be dealt with and throwing any of it out was simply not an option. 

In her high school years, she was active in her church’s Christian Endeavor, where she planned and led discussions on “race prejudice, world peace, the meaning of Christianity, our part in the church, etc.” Later on, living in South Dallas, she watched her neighborhood start to change from all white to also include People of Color. Elaine and some friends were supportive of integration and worked to encourage other white families to stay, to embrace the values of cultural and racial diversity.

Her sense of community building led her to social work and was certainly tied to active participation in church activities, having been the last surviving charter member of her beloved Unitarian Church. Elaine was active in the League of Women Voters and registered voters for decades. In the early years in her Dallas neighborhood, she also collected poll taxes (she remembered them to be about $1.50) to ensure that her neighbors would be able to vote. And later she helped in the campaign to repeal the poll tax. Elaine also recalled that she never missed a voting opportunity since turning 21 in 1944. 

Spurred on by the experiences of her sister and a friend in childbirth, she and a friend started the Dallas Association for Parent Education in 1959. It offered classes for expectant parents and pressured hospitals and doctors to adopt more modern childbirth techniques. It is still in existence, known as DallasParents.org

In retirement, Elaine volunteered with kindergartners at the local school her children had attended. She loved that chance to work with young children and especially enjoyed the progress that could be seen in the children’s abilities at the end of each school year.

In an essay written at age 95 titled “Happily Alive,” Elaine mentions that since the Villages where she lived didn’t recycle, she would load up her trunk and take her recycling to a friend’s house. She also wrote “I’m happy with the role of Cultural Leader (at the Vasa Lodge) since thinking up programs has always been a forte and I’m curious about everything.”  That curiosity took to explore her Swedish ancestry, its culture and history. She traveled to Sweden on several occasions and was active in a Scandinavian folk dancing group. This curiosity also made her a lifelong reader and learner, and someone who took great pleasure in the company of others, which of course made her good company. 

In another essay she titled “I Love Life” written in 2005 Elaine wrote: “Meanwhile, I’ll do everything I can to see to it that I finish my years on this earth as someone who enjoys them and makes a difference for good. I don’t want to be a burden on other people for care – I want to be a giver and I want to participate in the life around me.” Elaine’s values – lived every day – certainly found her participating in the life around her. 

As a young child, I remember the excitement when Elaine's package arrived with Christmas presents. I couldn't wait - not to see what was inside, but to see how she had decorated them. Instead of just using pre-bought tags, she always decorated them in unique ways. She would use whatever was around the house to create an individualized decoration for each present. In 2012, when I received a present from her, I took a picture of the wrapping, understanding it might be one of the last of her creative wrappings I might get.