Imagination, Fear, and the Utter Disregard for Logic

     I lay in cocoon pose elevated above the ground in a silver silk parachute, swinging effortlessly from side to side, listening to the soothing music, smelling the rich aromatic smells of sandalwood, sage, lavender, and ginger. Instead of staying in the moment, as the yoga instructor is encouraging us to do, my mind wonders to how much my mother would have liked this...if you have read any of the prior stories you already know that mom's mind was amazing in many ways. She was a wonderful artist and worked in many different mediums, a self-taught cook, pastry-chef, and candy-maker. She knew both common and scientific names for most plants that grew on our farm and would make me repeat them when we worked with them, she would give me a nickel if I could name the type of roses(Dusky Maiden , the Duchess, Hume's blush etc.) we had in our garden. I actually earned a couple nickels...I would get a quarter if I could find a plant mom didn't know both names for (never got a quarter).

     I loved to cook with mom, and thankfully most dishes I make are edible since I never use a recipe and very seldom are they made the same way twice, with the exception of candy. Candy was the only thing mom used a recipe for  because of the complex nature and the fact the temperature varied so widely from candy type, some of my fondest memories are of cold Decembers with the kitchen widow cracked open, the Mable table in front of it and fudge, peanut brittle, or dipped chocolates cooling on it. Mom would makes mounds and mounds of candy for neighbors, family, and friends. She more than once catered weddings for daughters and family members and even friends, she had 30 or 40 molds used to make various types of hand-made chocolate mints. I remember spending hours and hours dipping and pouring molds and chocolates, all the while my mother smiles, hums, sings, tells a story, or just talks about life. Sometimes her life, sometimes we talked about other people we knew. When my friends were over, they were invited to join in the work and the conversation and love. One of my best friends, Scott Fugate, would get just as many hugs and kisses from mom as I did, yet that was okay because we all saw mom love so many people without ever feeling neglected or needing to compete for her attention, still not sure how she did that.

     When I was a teenager, my mother decided it was time to learn how to drive. She would have been in her late forties, her husband and six of her eight children had their driver's licenses, she had counted on Ruby Brown, but Ruby had recently had some health issues, and considering who (me) was coming of age I think she thought she might need some mobility. I remember one of our conversations about driving, since I was already driving the old Dodge truck or International Scout around the farm, and me as a kid reassuring her that there was nothing to be afraid of. It was simple...of  course I had no clue what I was talking about, yet as I mentioned before I knew that mom knew and felt the fear failure, but never let that stop her from trying something new or something that needed to be done. She learned this young when her mother died when she was a teen (17) and her father left her, her two sisters (Miriam and Unity) and her brother Harold. (To my nieces and nephews, your fathers and mothers have a wonderful history of this that Aunt Unity sent to each of the Madsen children I would encourage you to get a copy if you haven't read it ) Mom got her driver's license, and continued to teach herself new things all throughout her life... and when things needed doing, even though logic said, "wait or let's plan this out, "  mom had a sledge hammer in her hands breaking down a wall between the dinning room and kitchen, or splitting rocks to face a 2 1/2 story fireplace, or building several long rock walls. Mom always took the words "it can't be done " with a glint in her eyes and a slight crook in her smile...you went on your way and the next time you came back she had started it, so you either help her finish it or shut up and watch. She did this with all types of service, home projects, and yard improvements. As far as I know, mom didn't attend any education more than high school, yet she was intelligent, well-read and spoke well on all subjects. I know she had many aspirations and desires, yet I don't remember her ever complaining to me about her life and the things that she had and had not been able to do...it was, and has been a great lesson to witness in action and be able to call upon in my own life. I have not been as good at not complaining as mom was, and maybe mom had someone to relieve some stress with... I hope so. This woman could have accomplished anything she wanted, and had any acclaim that the world could offer..I will be eternally grateful that she chose to be my mother and exhaust so much of her effort in my behalf.

Gertrudism #6 "Hard work schools all parts of Self... Mind, Body, and Soul."





Sissy, Gertrude, and Unity