Memories of my mom

Today I am especially remembering my mom because it was 13 years ago that she left us. Some times it seems like yesterday and other times like forever since I last saw her. She was healthy and functioning up until the day she got ill so there really wasn't much time for understanding that our time together was done.

My mom was always a hard worker who believed in doing things right. She was generally quiet and went about her business without much ado. When her first marriage ended in the 1950s, and she came back home with three children, I can't even imagine how difficult that must have been for her. She cared about what others thought so to face the stigma of divorce at at time when that was rare must have been horrific for her. However, she stuck to it and got a good job and took care of her children. She ultimately remarried (which is how I came about), continued her job for 25 years before retiring and thoroughly enjoyed her new home and farm life. The influence she had on my children can't be described, and I am so thankful for that.

It wasn't until after she was gone that I realized what a simple person she was and just how much she did for all of us. Often on Sundays I can almost smell the roast beef dinner and just feel what it was to spend an afternoon at home. Sure wish I would have helped more and given her more hugs.

Here's to the memory of a wonderful lady.

Thought for the day: To live in hearts we leave behind

Is not to die......Thomas Campbell

I've Been Thinking

I do quite a bit of thinking which can be dangerous. However, I spent the weekend in Brainerd and got to hold my 4 month old granddaughter a whole lot (which makes me very happy). As I was looking at her and pondering what her daily life entails, the words of Jesus came to me: Unless you become like a little child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven; The kingdom of heaven is within you.

So I was thinking that just maybe he meant that unless we retain our innocence and sense of wonder and awe at just about every thing, we cannot attain heaven. And maybe he meant that unless we live deliberately (as much as possible as adults), we cannot reach heaven. Imagine if instead of rapidly walking through the yard, we stopped to look at each grass blade, or instead of hurrying by each tree, we stopped to feel the bark and touch the leaves. What if we ate when hungry and slept when tired. I know this is my most spiritual type of day; the kind where it just unfolds. What if we stopped rushing to and fro trying to get as much done as possible and tried to just be.

I do believe that we can achieve heaven on earth if we just take the time to be in awe.

Thought for the day: Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God; and only he who sees takes off his shoes; the rest sit round it and pluck blackberries. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Lefse

Lefse is a traditional Norwegian flat bread. Although I am of Swedish descent, lefse definitely has a place in my Christmas time memories. Our family normally eats it with butter and brown sugar. Norwegians have been known to use it as a wrap for lutefisk.

My friend, Sue, bought a lefse iron and all the necessary accessories so the past couple years we have had a lefse making day. It's quite an art, and it takes awhile to get in the rhythm of it. There is a connection to past generations of women who gathered together to bake and find support in each other.

The dough is made from potatoes, milk and flour. It is then chilled and rolled out very thin using a cloth covered rolling pin. There are long sticks that are used to transfer the thin creation.

Yesterday was our annual lefse day so Sue, Tudy and myself spent a couple hours taking turns rolling and grilling. We drank tea and listened to Handel's Messiah and ended our time together with potato soup and cornbread.

Thought for the day: Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow, ripening fruit. Aristotle

Traditions

Recently I made the trek to Brainerd on a snowy day in order to continue the cookie baking tradition. When my kids were growing up, it was an annual event to make cut out sugar cookies with Grandma at Christmas time. My mother would make the dough and keep in the refrigerator until my kids could come and "help" her make sugar cookies. She had an array of cookie cutters that were used, and the cookies would be sprinkled with green and red sugar crystals. Sounds pretty simple and unexciting, but it's a memory that my kids will have for a long time.

My daughter, Tahnee, and I have been trying to continue this trend for the past couple of years. Hopefully at some point my granddaughters can join in so the memories can go on for years to come.

Thought for the day: Tradition is the illusion of permanence. Woody Allen

A Simpler Time

Yesterday I spent the afternoon making spritz cookies. A couple years ago I bought a battery operated cookie maker so once you get the rhythm down, it goes quite well. In my kitchen drawer is a box that contains a spritz cookie set that I somehow inherited. It belonged to my aunt Violet, and I used it until the purchase of the modern set.

So each year I contemplate getting rid of the old set; however, I am never able to do it because it hearkens back to a much simpler time based on the box that houses it. It is addressed to my aunt with no other details than Nelson, MN. Also, you can see that it cost 24 cents to mail the box, and the postmark is 1952.

Perhaps the battery operated model will break as modern items often do, and I'll go back to the old fashioned way. In the meantime, the box will continue to occupy a spot in my drawer.

Thought for the day: Life is really simple, but men insist on making it complicated. Confucius

Tough questions

Last weekend I had my 4 year old granddaughter, Melody, stay with me for 4 days. She kept me busy the whole time. We went to the library, swam at the YMCA, went to the park and she even got me to eat at McDonalds twice.

As we were sitting at the table eating breakfast, she started asking me questions about photos I have sitting on my bookshelf. The photos are of my mother, aunt and grandmother. She wanted to know where they were so I told her they had died. She stated they must be in heaven with great grandpa. She stated that it would be nice to go to heaven and see them all, but then she'd like to come back to my house. The rest of the weekend was peppered with questions about death. Here are a few: Will I die tomorrow, the next day, the next day...........? Will you and Mommy be in heaven to take care of me? Why does every one have to die?

When I told her that most people die when they get old, she started crying and said, "I don't want to get old." We watched Charlotte's Web and when Wilbur said he didn't want to die, her response was, "See, he doesn't want to die, just like me." Luckily, she seemed to miss the part that Charlotte died.

As a grandma who wants to make every thing okay, I knew that the reality is every one does die so I couldn't sugarcoat it and tell her it won't happen. So I answered and comforted the best I could. She appears to be a deep thinker like her grandma which can make for many hard questions.

Thoughts for the day: Our death is not our end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation, for they are us. Our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.

Albert Einstein

Life and Death are balanced on the edge of a razor. Homer

Louisa and I

For some odd reason, I feel a very strong connection to Louisa Mae Alcott. Little Women has always been a favorite book, and I have seen the movie a couple times. A couple years ago I read a nonfiction book about Louisa and her father, Bronson Alcott. In fact, I finished the book the day I was sitting at my father's bedside as he was dying. She and her father had a tight bond throughout their lives; in fact, they died within 48 hours of each other.

Our book club, Serendipity, read the book by Geraldine Brooks called March. It is a fictional account, based on real facts, about the father of Little Women. It portrays what may have been happening in his life while his wife and four daughters were at home. The book weaves the fiction of Little Women with the real life of Bronson Alcott. It was quite fascinating. This past September I was able to visit Louisa Mae's home (Orchard House) in Concord, MA. Within minutes of arriving there, I was in tears. I don't cry very easily so it's puzzling why there is such a strong feeling with her. We stood by the tiny desk where she wrote Little Women; she wrote 14 hours a day teaching herself to use both hands in order to get more accomplished. We visited her grave site along with those of Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson (also favorites of mine). To think that these people were all friends makes me wonder what kind of energy must have been permeating their surroundings. I sure wish I could have been there.

Thoughts for the day: The emerging woman will be strong-minded, strong-hearted, strong-souled, and strong-bodied....strength and beauty must go together. Louisa Mae Alcott

I'm not afraid of storms for I'm learning how to sail my ship. Louisa Mae Alcott