The Changing Face of Mother's Day in Linda's Life

I used to love Mother's Day. There was no way I could tell my mom often enough how much I appreciated her and how much I loved her. Once I became a mom myself, I was even more excited to share that day with my mom. I found greater appreciation for her and I understood her a little better. We shared a new bond. Our relationship transcended from Mother-Daughter to “fellow moms” and ‘best friends”. I understood her even more and she became a great resource for me.
As a new mom, I loved celebrating Mother’s Day even more than before.

I basked in the indescribable feelings of joy that developed with the first look at their tiny fingers and toes. I think every parent believes no one has ever loved another soul the way they love their child and I was no different. I marveled at the magnificent little souls God sent to my home.

Over time, the face of Mother's Day began to change. David was born in 1980 on the Sunday before Mother’s Day. Weighing only one pound nine ounces, he lived only 11 hours. In 1980 our Sunday School congregation had a strange way to pay tribute to mother's on Mother’s Day. The well meaning men in charge of the program decided in addition to giving a flower to all the women in church that day, they would make special presentations of an extra flower to a few ‘special’ women. There were flowers for the oldest Mom (not a single woman wanted to claim THAT flower!), the mom with the most children, the mother with the most grandchildren, as well as the "newest" mother.

When they asked "Has anyone had a baby in the last week, like an idiot I raised my hand. The man conducting the meeting didn't seem to notice my hand, and no one else raised their hand. They then asked "Has anyone had a baby in the last two weeks. Again, I raised my hand, this time a little bolder and higher. Why?? As crazy as it sounds, I couldn't help it. As much as it hurt to be reminded of his death, I definitely could not deny his birth and his short presence in my life.

At barely a pound and a half, David hadn't made much of an imprint on the world, but he had made a huge impact on my life. Living only a few hours, he didn't leave much behind: a couple poor quality photos, a set of foot prints, a birth certificate and a death certificate. So, I continued to hold my hand firmly in the air marking my place as the newest Mom in the congregation. The man presiding over the Mother's Day program at church finally noticed my raised hand. Suddenly uncomfortable, he called my name and I headed for the front of the chaple to claim my flower. Kasey had been sitting on my lap so I carried him to the pulpit with me. Both his arms were tight around my neck, and he pressed his cheek against mine, as if he knew I needed a tight hug to make up for the little hole David left in my heart. I claimed my flower then returned to my seat in the pew. Things were extra quiet in the chapel, but I didn't mind. I had my flower. My child's birth had been recognized.

Once the numbness of the day wore off, I realized I had made a lot of people uncomfortable that day. The gracious thing might have been to pretend that I hadn't had a baby. But I didn't. And they never singled out women on Mother’s Day again. I hope the refusal of an “oldest” mom to state her age and claim her flower was also partly responsible for the change in the Mother’s Day program.

Kasey died a couple months later, and Mother’s day didn’t improve for a long time. In fact, it seemed like Mother's Day was just a reminder that I could have been a better mom. It was even a bigger reminder of how much I missed Kasey and David. Mother’s Day programs were filled with talks and tributes to moms with examples of incredible women that made the average woman appear lacking and some of us like derelicts. Yes, for a while after Kasey and David died, I think Mother's Day became unbearable.

Mother’s Day seems to pass by without too much drama these days. I still dread the Mother’s day talks at church, but not quite as much. I still dread the flowers that remind me of my “newest mom” flower from years ago, but not as much...

I guess time heals all things... and besides, now I have a renewed reason to celebrate. I am beginning to form that ‘grown-up’ friend-ship, that bond, with my own daughters. I’m beginning to understand why my mom enjoyed watching me navigate through adulthood and into motherhood. I watch my daughters embrace their new roles as adults. I enjoy watching them strive for and achieve their goals. I see them mature into really incredible women. And I look forward to each Mother’s Day that God allows me to watch them grow and progress. Now Mother’s day gives me just one more reminder to thank my Heavenly Father for the chance to be a mom and to celebrate watching my girls prepare to be Mother’s themselves.

And Kasey and David?? I know I’ll see them again someday... when the time is right. In the meantime, they’ll be just fine where they are. They are probably keeping my mom company on Mother’s Day! I still miss them, and I still wish they were here... But each Mother's Day I ask God to tell them I love them, and while he's at it, I ask him to give my mom a big Mother's Day hug too...

This year Emily and John invited me to their house for Mother's Day. They cooked an amazing meal of all my favorites: Asian grilled salmon, tossed salad, and Magelby's rolls. It was so relaxing and a perfect day. Yup, I am learning to really enjoy these Mother's Days again...

Emily and John (sorry 'bout the old photo!)

Here's a walk down "Memory Lane" ... some of my early years as a mother....

1978--A photo of my mom and dad, Nikki and Kasey shortly after Kasey was born.

To the right is a photo of Kasey and I. Wow, do I look young, and doesn't he look cute! ...Below is a photo of Nikki and I.

Feet, Service, and Sister Missionaries

I remember the stories of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. I didn't understand that at all. I understood it was an act of being humble. I know the Savior wanted us to be kind to others, but I didn't understand why the "Feet" example.

As a child I was grossed out by the thought of touching someone stinky feet!!! Then...to hear the Savior touched some one's dirty feet. Well! This story caught my attention! This meant the Savior needed to kneel before the disciple, a very humbling position. It wasn't until I got older and work required me to be on my feet all day that I realized any attention to a person's feet was a welcomed act of kindness. The significance of the Lord's example to humble ourselves to show acts of kindness took on deeper meaning.....

Well, now that I'm an adult, I see things a little differently. I have spent a lot of time as a nurse doing things that might have grossed me out as a child. I have bathed patients, changed sheets and washed patients after they've lost control of their bodily functions.... I knew it was difficult for them to receive such personal care and many of them spent too much time apologizing for a loss of bodily functions they could not control. I realized then how important it was to provide this service in such a way that my patients knew this was not a burden to me. I spent a lot energy trying to make my patients understand that I loved my job and loved being in a position to help patients do things that at this time in their lives they could not do for themselves.

Thinking back to the things I did for patients in the ICU and in contrast to what I thought as a child, washing dirty feet wasn't something gross, but a chance to give comfort, to show a kindness. I imagine in Jesus' days, feet took quite a beating. Living in a warm climate, wearing sandals, and walking almost everywhere would definitely create dry, tired feet, and they would probably be cracked and sore. Not only could I finally see how the act of washing tired hot feet would be a welcomed service, but I could finally see that allowing the Savior to perform such a humble act would allow the Savior totally into their heart and soul. It would create a bond with the person performing the act of kindness. Much the way I bonded with my patients in the ICU.

Fast forward to 2009. I know we are still encouraged to show kindness to others. Church gives us a constant opportunity for service and my profession gives me the opportunity to show kindness and empathy to others who are at a very vulnerable time in their lives.

A few people who are always giving service, and never expect anything in return are the sister missionaries. I am constantly amazed how they remain so dedicated. They would surely have a right to be discouraged. Doors get slammed in their faces, promises are made to them that are are broken, and every day they put their hearts out there... Many times to be struck down by a rude or angry stranger. Despite the frequent negative answers, they still take a chance inviting strangers to listen to a message they hold sacred and dear to their hearts, knowing the vast majority of people will not listen.

When they are not proselyting missionaries are expected to give service. Often times, when people don't want to listen to a message, they then ask "Well, then, is there anything we can do for you today, something you need help with?? With the exception of being fed and sheltered, I don't think they get a chance to receive many kindnesses or service to them directly. And this is as it was meant to be: this is a time for missionaries to dedicate their lives to service. Giving this service to others would help missionaries create a bond with the people in their mission. By understanding the needs of people, missionaries develop a bond of caring and understanding they may otherwise not have.

But my dad's advice reminds me "If you don't take care of yourself, You can't take care of others.."

Having been the recipient of kindness and service from the sister missionaries, I decided to direct a little kindness to them....and treated them both to pedicures on their "P" day. (aka "personal day" or 'day off'). After making sure with their mission president that it was "OK", I took them to one of the local nail salons. The chairs massaged their tired backs while the ladies at the salon massaged their feet, scrubbed their callouses and trimmed their toe nails. .. Not really a spiritual experience... yet a little act of kindness to two young ladies who otherwise spend all their time in service to others.

I hope somehow these amazing and kind ladies felt a little 'rejuvenated' by the experience. I enjoyed our time together!

"GOOD-BYE Student housing..."

Three years ago I decided to leave my high-rise condo and move into a single-family home. Having a few health concerns, I specifically looked at homes with all the ‘essentials’ on the main floor: master bedroom, kitchen, laundry and office. I wanted a four-bedroom home, but settled for three bedrooms instead.

I had been looking for a house off and on for a few years. I even gave up for a while and bought a lot because I wasn’t finding the house I wanted. But perseverance paid off and I found a house that came pretty close to what I was looking for. I knew it was "the one" the minute I walked into the foyer.
I broke a few rules of home-buying when I bought this house: I didn’t see what the yard looked like without the two feet of snow that was in the yard. I had no idea what the yard was going to look like. All I knew is that it was fully landscaped with underground sprinkling system. That could heave meant any number of things! For those of you who have read a real estate ad, then went to see the home, you all know it could have been a disaster.

Why then did it not even occur to me when I signed the real estate offer to hold off until the snow melted?? I guess it was a leap of faith. I had a "feeling".... And, the inside was done so beautifully that I just trusted the outside would be the same. (TRUSTED?? Is that even a word you can use with real estate purchases these day??) Well, I bought the house, snow and all. After I moved in and the snow melted, I got the surprise of my life. The yard exceeded my expectations... My EVERY hope and dream. The first spring I lived in the house I took pictures of the yard almost every week. Being a novice gardener I didn’t recognize plants as their tender shoots peaked through the ground. The blossoms and pods were a daily delight as they changed and developed and eventually blossomed into the most amazing display of color.

Now that it’s Spring again and the grass is starting to turn green, I am reminded of how much I love my house. I'm looking forward to seeing how much the plants have grown and developed. This will be my fourth summer in the house and the 5th summer for the landscape. (The house was a year old when I bought it).

I bought my house because of the floor plan, but I LOVE it because of the yard. Each day I drive into my drive way, each time I walk through my yard I have to admit I’m the luckiest person in the world! I could have been burned! Instead, I pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. I acquired a most amazing yard with the most beautiful plants. I'm still learning how to take care of them, when and how to prune them.... But I'm enjoying the journey. I'm becoming a regular in the gardening section of Barnes and Noble and I'm finding some helpful internet sites to teach me a little more. I'm trying to learn enough to prove that you CAN teach an OLD DOG new tricks! So far I haven't ruined anything (I hope!)

Here are a few photos of my amazing yard from last year. Things here in Minnesota haven't fully bloomed yet, but one thing I know: I'll be outside taking photos all summer - again.

I think if I ever get too complacent to enjoy my yard it means the novelty has worn off and it's time to get back to "high rise" living... I hope that doesn't happen for a VERY long time... Not until I'm ready for "assisted living."


I still can't get used to architecture in Minnesota-Very little brick used here...
I guess it's so incredibly expensive here that most homes under a milliong dollars use it only for trim...
Yuck. I hate seeing so much siding...


Step off back deck


Front yard near mailbox

Each year the blossoms get thicker and thicker...


The magnolia is such a fun plant to watch.

The leaves show up after the blooms wilt away.

Above is a photo of the Magnolia bush once it's lost its blooms and is covered with leaves.

The leaves are beautiful too!

My Mom Was Amazing....

My mom was an amazing woman. She seemed to be involved in one project or another. She loved creating things and was great at fixing things. She was an amazing seamstress (sewed my wedding gown), knitted (She even made me an incredible fisherman’s knit sweater once, but I was so terribly allergic to the wool I could never wear it). She tackled stained glass, did macramé, and even started her own business with a hot stamp machine.
One of my favorite things about my mom was her tenacity to learn how to do things. She didn't give up easily and patiently spent the time needed to master any task she tackled. She was pretty handy around the house and it stands to note that the only tool box in the house was hers! I’m not sure if my dad even knew where to find it!
I remember when I first got married she told me that if I did any repairs around the house that my husband would soon leave repairs undone, rather than learn to do them himself. “So, she warned, “if you can’t wait to have it fixed, and you can fix it yourself, do so, but don’t breathe a word of it!"
I didn’t get my mom’s “Handy Dandy” genes. But I became fearless at giving any repair a try! I slowed down on the home repairs early in my marriage when I took my clock radio apart and inadvertently left the butter knife I was using as a screwdriver inside. My brother-in-law discovered it and made fun of me. That was the “Ah Hah” moment when I realized I wasn’t repair-man material! Despite the forgotten butter-knife, I still do a lot of things myself. As my budget permits, I hire more and more things done, but once in a while I have a lapse of judgment, forget I’m not my mom, and try a home improvement project. Once in a while I even succeed. My mom would be proud!