The Amazing Magical Mind of Mom

Being a 9 year old boy on a small farm in Centerville, Utah with endless chores and things that needed doing, fixing or building at times, was overwhelming. Mom on the other hand seemed to have figured out you could only do what you could do, so why worry about everything else. My father was not of the same ilk. Each day when I arrived home from school there was something that needed attending too, a cow that I needed to learn how to milk; pigs, chickens, rabbits and cows to feed.  Pens to clean, trees to prune, ground to plow, or rocks to clear. Now I had several brothers and sisters to help in these endeavors, so thankfully I was not left alone in most of these tasks, yet there were many that my mother and I tackled together. Besides my mother's singing voice, was her amazing mind. She had a way to tell a story that would allow me to hear, smell and seemly touch the very places she would describe. I would later recognize the stories as her variations of Huck Finn, Aladdin, Peter Pan, and many Greek and Roman legends. Her ability to manipulate time was magical and dark often caught us before our task was complete. I would wonder in awe where several hours had vanished and why I felt so sore and exhausted when all I had done was listen. She was preparing me for the many times she wouldn't be there...when I would desperately need her magical spell of the comfort to hide in those stories when I was scared, nervous or lonely. How powerful a legacy to leave. That amazing ability I know has been past on to many in our family as I watch the work you do professionally, as hobbies, and with your families. How very pleased mom would be to see the immense creativity that her children and grandchildren use and share. I look at Chris's photographs with wonder and stories come flooding to mind, Josh's sets and I am transported, read the writings of so many of my nieces and daughters, see first hand my sons' personal gifts, witness the many talents of each of the children of my brothers and sisters, I know that mom is alive and well and running through the veins of those she loved.

My chores sometimes started with a treasure hunt, of the most unusual kind. I would come home and there would be a slice of Red Barons Frozen Pizza or a freshly toasted peanut butter and honey open faced sandwich. I would be asked to choose one. When I had finished, the piece of paper under the food item would lead me to my first clue. Five or six clues later I would find my fate...which chore, and alone or with mom. I always got to eat the other food item which was good. Now that I think of it, mom was the one who told me I might be working alone and I dreaded that outcome, but it never happened, maybe there was never and end slip with alone on it... so for my ninth or tenth birthday my mother held a birthday party for the neighborhood kids and my friends, and yes I actually had a few, which ended up being an epic treasure hunt. ( I later learned my sister, Lynne, had helped my mother plan. Now there was another truly extraordinary woman that was taken from this earth way to soon for my liking... I miss her to often and deeply. ) So 10 to 12 kids given maps of burnt parchment, with clues and markers spread out over several acres, working as teams or as individuals it was your choice, the theme was of course pirates. The hunt took an hour or so, time was my mom's ally, and focus for this age group was no easy task. At the end we all seemed to come to the treasure close to the same time, there we dug, in a pile a gravel to find a chest filled with birthday bobbles, gold coin chocolates, jeweled hard candies, strings of pearls (hand strung mints on string), crowns, and cups of gold. We divided the loot and sat for a feast, my older brother even figured a way to have cannons with pipes and firecrackers announcing my ninth or tenth birthday.

Mom was amazing in so many ways. Her mind, though I am sure knew fear of failure, never seemed to allow it to stop her from trying something new. I will speak of this later, for this is one of the lessons she taught that has served me all my life.

This is my mother most famous Gertudism...

Gertudism#5 Frustration is the immature inability to cope