Starting on the drive to Michigan at 5 a.m., sleeping in our pajamas in the back of the station wagon, for which Mom had made a special cushion covering the whole back, then waking up at 8:00 for breakfast at Howard Johnson’s in Lansing.
At Lake St. Helen, having so much fun with the Hamilton’s. Mom and Aunt Beth took care of us kids during the week and Dad and Uncle Bob came up on the weekend. Mom and Aunt Beth cut a deal. Mom would do any chore as long as Aunt Beth would play games with us. Mom diving off the dock and swimming vigorously in the freezing water.
Coming home from the Hamilton’s late at night, sleeping in the back of the station wagon, and then being lifted into our beds by Mom and Dad.
So many camping trips, miles and hours and singing and maps in the car. For a while in the 1960’s, Mom wore her hair in a French roll. Once on a long car trip, with four bored children in the back seat, Mom put her sunglasses on the back of her head, over the French roll, and tied a scarf backwards on her head. Then as we passed other cars, she would turn toward the other car and “look out” the window. It kept us amused…for a while.
The tent trailer and the kitchen box. In the mornings, Mom would shout out from her sleeping bag in the camper “COfffeeeeee!” Although not the outdoor adventurer, she hung in there during our summer camping trips. She loved exposing us kids through our travels, even though sleeping near the ground was not really her greatest joy.
Successive children sitting at the dining room table doing homework while Mom, as the years passed, typing a speech for a Junior League event, doing work for the church Governing Board, studying for an OSU class, learning to balance the checkbook for her first checking account. Reading Mom our school papers with many editing suggestions flying back along with prods to think more deeply.
Many gatherings with beef barbeque sandwiches, and food on the buffet.
Mom’s sewing room and kitchen served as a counseling center for our friends and neighborhood kids. They said, “they could really talk with her.” Countless days after school, coming home and leaning on the buffet talking to Mom in the kitchen through the pass-through about…anything.
Calling in a sophomore college crisis and having her send Rilke’s
Letters to a Young Poet, with the page marked that said, “Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your heart…..”
Sitting in the Ohio Stadium (the Shoe), cheering the procession of Ph.D. candidates, and watching our mom ascend the stage to receive her PhD. The keynote speaker was…Woody Hayes!
Being so proud and deeply personally affected by Mom’s leadership and courage throughout the decades: the Junior League, the Urban Education Coalition, getting her PhD., Options, the Bridge Program, Critical Difference.
Mom’s retirement party at the Thurber house… when Aunt Beth remembered that, as children, she thought Mom was a “prude” and Mom though Aunt Beth was a “tramp.”
Mom showing up at the hospital when Bryn was born….and showing up at the hospital with Bryn when Molly was born. Later, for high school graduation presents, family cruises in the Mediterranean and the Baltic Sea. Mom showing up always and forever for Bryn and Molly.
Canoeing with Mom and friends on the Kinnickinnic River in Wisconsin when Mom looked up at the sky and said “Look at that beautiful shade of green!” Minutes later huddled together being drenched by a serious storm that, a few miles north, was a straight-line wind tornado.
Mom and Ruth Fay toasting Cynthia and Kit at their wedding in 1991. Although they had just met, they agreed that what they had in common was their love for their daughters and their hopes for our happiness.
Taking the Empire Builder to Williston, North Dakota, at harvest time. Watching the beautiful prairie pass by from our sleeper car. Visiting the farm where Ruth Fay grew up. Meeting Brad and Charlie for lunch in the wheat fields and going for a ride in the combine. Ruth trying to chase away the equipment salesperson so he couldn’t try to talk Brad into another expensive piece of equipment. Mom clicked so easily with Charlie and Ruth. A magical trip.
Many sweet hours spent at the cabin in Minnesota, the straw bale house in Vermont (and helping build the garage), and the many holidays and evenings with games and music at the farm in Athens. Talking with Mom on the screened porch at Cynthia’s cabin and, at just the right hour, Cynthia bringing Mom her gin-and-tonic.
Mom attended almost every one of Susan’s performances and choreography. She always began her insightful critique with, “Well, I don’t know much about dance, but…” After many decades, she knew so much.
Wonderful trips to London and the Lake District, Seattle and the Olympic Peninsula, Washington D.C., Charleston, with a Thanksgiving picnic on the beach with Lynne and Kit.
Mom wrote two books of sketches about the people and life at Westminster Thurber. After a reading of selections from the first book, a resident bought copies for each of his six children so that they might better understand why he enjoyed living at Thurber. On a visit to help with Mom’s recovery from back surgery, three different people mentioned the book. The security guard complimented the book. The physical therapist teased Mom about the day that she might appear in a book. And when a couple came to visit Mom in rehab, they introduced themselves and said, “We’re in the book.”
Mom kept a “Funeral” file for 40 years. She started it in 1980, made changes in 2000 and 2016, and made copies for the children. At different points, she wanted
In the Blackwater Woods and
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver,
The Far Field by Theodore Roethke, and anything by Molly. She wanted Bradley’s music and one hymn,
Abide with Me. She hoped we would read Roy Burkhart’s beloved benediction:
And now may the courage
of the early morning’s dawning,
the strength of the eternal hills
and wide open fields,
and the silent streams,
the beauty of the flowered gardens,
the love that makes the family
and that alone can build
the peace of the world —
the life that is Christ
and the peace of the evening’s ending
and of the midnight
be with you now and forevermore.
