Scary times...

As the time approaches for the change of power, I feel an overwhelming sense of dread for our country.  I'm still in shock that Trump managed to hoodwink more than half the country.  I did not think he had a snowball's chance in hell to pull it off, yet here we are.  

Because I still can't seem to wrap my head around it, I go over and over in my head how we got here.  I never knew much about Kamala and really didn't have an opinion about her when Biden chose her as his running mate.  My only real thought was, "hm, probably smart to pick a woman of color - he hit two segments of society that are not typically in one of the highest positions of power in this country."  I knew she was a lawyer, practiced in Cali, which of course made her liberal...maybe more liberal that I would like, but I'll take someone who leans a little too far left over someone leaning a little too far right any day. 

When Biden stepped aside and she stepped up to campaign, my first thought was "I sure wish the Pubs had come up with a better candidate!"  I really liked that Haley lady who ran in the primary and if she had been their candidate, I think that unless she proved to be different than she seemed, there's a good chance I would have voted for her.  But then as Kamala campaigned, I felt better about her.  And with the exception of one Trump-loathing friend who said he didn't like her and would simply not vote, it seemed like all the people I was talking to were rallying to support her.  But I will concede that her "popularity" may have been simply that she is "better than Trump."  

When she lost so pathetically, I was in shock!  The blue dot campaign had me feeling so positive!  I thought, I had no idea I had so many neighbors that were... well, not necessarily Dems, but on that side in this election.   I'm not a Dem.  I am an independent.  I have voted both ways.  I voted for both Bush's, both times.  I voted for Clinton and Obama, both times.  And I probably would have gone back to voting Pub this time if it was someone else.  But I was so sure that Trump had offended every single demographic, and sure that everyone but his most extreme supporters were sick to death of his vile attacks and crazy diatribe that the landslide would be the other direction.  I was so sure that many of the people who gave lip service to supporting him would quietly (and never admitting it) vote for Kamala.  It didn't even occur to me that this could happen!  That over half our country want this kind of man running the show, representing us to the rest of the world. 

Like I said, I think I'm still in shock.  I hate to use the "D" word, because I've never understood it, but I wonder if I might have just a touch of depression over the whole thing.  I'm so scared for what's ahead.  I just keep telling myself "the universe has my back - all is well."  But I feel paralyzed and have lost enthusiasm for the things that usually give me pleasure.  My plants are suffering.  I'm unenthusiastic about going to work.  I just need to get some of this out so that maybe I can relax about this a little...

My first thought after Kamala's overwhelming loss was, "How did she fuck this up so bad?"  I mean, really, with that P.O.S. as her opponent, she could be a freakin' monkey and win.  She chose a good running mate - that guy is totally likeable, and (in fact) I'd vote for HIM for prez!  Not a lot of experience, but a good president governs well by surrounding him/herself with smart, informed, competent people and LISTEN TO THEM.  But here we are...

And what does Trump do but go in and fire all the smart, informed, competent people and put a bunch of "yes men" in their places.  The crazy shit he's done just in the last couple months is enough to make you wonder where we'll be in another 6 months.  Make Canada the 51st state?  "Take over" the Panama Canal and Greenland?  Who the fuck does he think he is?  Can you image what the world is thinking?  This is what I read he said in a press conference yesterday:

Ok, that last bit at the bottom is mean, and I would have removed it, but he does sound demented.  I'm so proud to live in a country where half the people think this is even remotely lucid. 😔

I remember back when Clinton was in office and the whole Monica scandal broke.  The Pubs were aghast that a lot of Dems weren't condemning Clinton for his shenanigans.  "He's a terrible example for our youth!" they said.  "A man in the highest office should be honorable, should be faithful to his wife!"  And my thought was "this is a matter of privacy in a marriage.  He will pay the consequences as all cheating men do. But it's really nobody else's business because there has been no law broken - only one of the moral variety." The Pubs have come a long way, baby!  Here's a good rendition of where we're at now, what... 25 years later?... (It was put out there in July 2024)

I have a question for MAGA bunch —

You say you want trump back in office.

You say you liked his “policies”.

That things were “better”.

That he “fought for you”.

And I want to know why you think any of that.

 

Because he told you he would lower the cost of your prescription drugs, and didn’t. But Biden did.

 

He said he’d bring back manufacturing, but he didn’t. Joe Biden passed the CHIPS Act - allocating tens of billions in incentives for companies to construct & expand manufacturing facilities in the US.

 

For four years straight, he said every week would be “infrastructure week”, only that week never came. President Biden signed a $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill into law during his first year in office.

 

He said he would boost economic growth by 4 percent a year. Nope. The economy stalled, and unemployment soared to the highest levels since the Great Depression. Joe Biden has created 13.2 million jobs and unemployment has been under 4% for 17 months in a row — the longest stretch in over 50 years.

 

He promised to eliminate the federal deficit. He increased it by more than 60 percent. Joe Biden cut the deficit by more than $1.7 trillion in his first two years – the largest deficit reduction in American history.

 

He said he would hire “only the best people.” He’s since called his AG a “gutless pig”, his National Security Adviser “one of the dumbest people in Washington", his Sec. Of Defense “the world’s most overrated general” and he’s said that people were right to want to hang his VP. Joe Biden has seen very little turnover in his cabinet and hasn’t so much as criticized anyone in his administration, let alone wanted to see them hanged.

 

He promised he’d build a wall and that Mexico would pay for it. He then took $15 billion from our Defense Department’s budget to pay for less than 500 miles of construction. Joe Biden got Mexico to pay us $1.5 billion for border security.

 

He promised to lock up Hillary Clinton for using a private email server. He’s now been federally indicted with 37 charges related to his intentional mishandling of national security documents. Joe Biden… hasn’t.

 

He said he would “unify America”, and then told his supporters to attack our Capitol. He was impeached twice, lost re-election and has to date been indicted 71 times, with more charges likely to come.

Oh, and that money you’re sending him for the 2024 election… that’s being used to pay his personal legal bills.

 

So, given all of this… my question remains the same — what was “better” under trump? What “policies”? If it wasn’t healthcare, infrastructure, border security, American manufacturing or the economy, what was it?

 

And if he’s “fighting for you”, why is he using your campaign donations on his personal legal woes? I would really love to know.

 

Yes, and I don't hear any Pubs worried about the bad example our president is setting including (but not limited to...) cheating on his wife, soliciting sex from a sex worker, assaulting women, grossly characterizing women as "letting you do what you want if you have power and money"... inciting violence, screwing small businesses over, name-calling, telling outright lies and then denying his lies, and of course there's all the law breaking.  If you think having a generation of kids who think oral sex "isn't sex" is bad, imagine what's coming!  

Twelve days to our 4 years of God-knows-what.  Like I said, I'm scared.  But if the Pubs are right, at least my money will make money.  At what price?  God help us all!

Some Fredell history found!

I stumbled across some family stuff I'd only vaguely heard about many years ago.  I was trying to figure out when exactly the Fredells came to America.  I started with the photos that I took a few years ago of the headstones I discovered at the Red Oak cemetery:

 

John was the first one to come to America.  I'm not sure when he came, but I can probably get pretty close.  Maria was his mate - I say it that way because it doesn't necessarily sound like they were married.  Of course, coming from Sweden, I think even way back then they were less puritanical than Americans, so that was probably not uncommon.  But John was a prick and intended to leave his woman and child (my great grandfather, Gust) behind, or at least that's the story I've been told.  My understanding was that Gust was young when his father left, and since he was born in 1882, I'm guessing he came in the 1880s.

So John was born in 1863, his wife Maria was 4 years younger, born in 1859.  She would have been 24 and John would have been 20 when Gust was born.  And John would have been a fairly young man when he came to America.  Another tidbit we only found out when Wes did some digging several years ago:  he did not come to America with the name Fredell.  Apparently the family name back in Sweden was Karlsson, which is kind of interesting because I have a Hoya chum in Sweden whose name is Christina Karlsson... we could be related!  Anyway, I'm not privy to why he changed the family name and how he came up with Fredell.  This is what I found about the name with a google search:

In Swedish, "Fredell" is a surname derived from the word "fred" which means "peace", with the suffix "-ell" added on essentially translating to "little peace" or a diminutive form of "peace".

Origin: It's considered an ornamental name, meaning a variation added for aesthetic reasons.

In the end, Maria and Gust ended up joining John.  I don't know any of that story and why they ended up joining him, but they did.  They never had other children, so Gust was an only child.  However, I seem to recall that someone told me once that he was one of twins and the other was lost.  Whether that means at birth or sometime after, and whether it is true or not, I suppose we'll never know now that everyone is gone that would know.

John bought 80 acres (the original farm) of rich Iowa farmland.  They built a house on what is now called Pine Ave., just north of what's now called 140th St. The official coordinates of the house are 41.100046, -95.070477.  The address by the time we lived there was Rt. 2, Villisca, Iowa.  There was an old house that I believe was probably there when they bought the farm, and eventually, they built the new house in front of the old house, which was an empty shell.  It was more or less a big play house for us which also served, at times, as a chicken and turkey coop. And the house they built was added on to at some point.  When Mom and Dad first started living there, there was no indoor toilet, though there was indoor plumbing to the kitchen.  They used an outhouse until I was about 5.  Can you image that with three young children?? Yikes...

In October of 1935, John executed his will.  In a court case I will describe later, it is described as follows:

Under his will, his estate was left to his wife and son for their lives with the remainder to his grandchildren. Grandchildren is defined in the will as the children of the body of the son. A deceased grandchild's issue of the body would take the share of the deceased parent. If the deceased grandchild had no issue of the body living at the time of the death of the son, then the remainder would be divided by the children of the body of the son living at the time of the son's death.

John died 12 days after executing this will at 72, and Marie died in 1942 at 83. Gust had married Edith, my great grandmother who is the only one who was alive when I was born.  Gust died at the young age of 52 in 1945, shortly after his mother died.  Gust and Edith had four children - my grandfather, Lester (1903); Gladys (1906), who lived near Red Oak and who I vaguely remember; Maxine, who lived in California and who I really have no recollection of; and Fern, who died at the age 21 from peritonitis, a complication after having her appendix removed.  Here is Grandma Edith's grave marker:

Grandpa's gave marker (above) is in Pilot Grove cemetery.  (What are the chances he married a woman with the same name as his sister?!) I never did the math before, but apparently Grandpa was on 19 and Grandma 18 when they got married.  She talked about teaching in a country schoolhouse before they married - I guess you didn't need a college degree to teach back then! Reviewing her obit, it looks like she taught for 5 years and worked for an attorney for 5 years.  If she was only 18 when they got married, it's obvious she worked after they got married! Here is her obit:

And Grandpa's, 4 years later:
 

 

Incidentally,  the way this stone looks, I was reading her full first name as Fernludille, but I looked it up and it's Fern LUCILLE.  You have to enlarge it to huge to see the little break that makes that "D" a "C".  And there seems to be no space between the "N" and the "L".  Anyway, here is Fern's obit - I was amazed I found it!

Kind of weird seeing an obit that's almost 100 years old! I think this is actually an article, which tells me the family had some clout or standing in the community back then.

I could find nothing about Maxine.  I'm not sure if she was the oldest or somewhere else in the lineup.  With a last name like "Davis", it's a pretty common name.  I found a couple of obits in Iowa of Maxine Davis's that were born around the same time, but I remember her living in California.  And according Grandpa's obit, by 1993 she was living in Kentucky.  So who knows where she was when she passed.

So on to what I know about Dad's generation.  Grandma and Grandpa had my dad's sister, Carolyn, in 1931 I believe, and dad, John Delaine Fredell (he went by Delaine, not John) in 1936. They built a new home across the farm from the house built by John.  It was a little 2 bedroom bungalow with a walk up attic like my house. I know that Maxine had a daughter, but I don't know her name and it's possible she had other children.  I don't ever remember meeting any of them, though I think it's likely that I did at some point.  And Gladys and her husband adopted their daughter, Mary Ann. (Who I just found on FB!)

Going back to that old will of John's (and what piqued my interest), I wish I knew more of the details about the land. I always assumed that it was 80 acres John bought because that's what was protected by the will when Grandpa died.  But it brings up questions.  Was there more land initially?  Because when John died, there were 3 siblings left to split the land.  Well, Maxine was in California by then, so I always assumed Grandpa bought her out.  But would that have been allowed with the will in place?  Could Grandpa have been renting some of the land from Maxine all those years? The will stipulated that the original land went to the heirs in the next generation, Dad's being the last generation subject to the will. So I think there must have been 240 original acres... each getting 80 acres upon John's death because it was 80 of the original land that Grandpa had when he died that was split between Dad and his sister.

And there was the issue of Mary Ann being adopted.  In 1983, Mary Ann (whose married name was Skoog) took Grandpa and Grandma and Maxine and her husband to the Supreme Court of Iowa because they apparently made it clear that she would not be inheriting her mother's land because she wasn't a "child of the body" of the grandchild of John.  It's a very interesting read, even as a lay person.  It can be seen HERE.  In the end, she lost.  Which means the land reverted back to Lester and Maxine, right?  So now that changes what the original number was.  It must have been 160, not 240, because again, it was 80 that Grandpa had upon his death...

The next generation:  Dad married my Mom, whose maiden name was Karen Kay Bean, in 1957.  I (Denise Kay) was born in 1958, Wes (Wesley Clair) was born in 1961, and Merry (Merry Noel) was born in 1962.  Mom and Dad divorce in 1974.  Dad married again, oddly enough to a woman with the same first and middle name as Mom!  And as if that isn't weird enough, her maiden name was Beem, Mom's was Bean.  She had some mental issues - I was told that she had spent time in a mental hospital after trying to burn her house down with her kids in it!  YIKES.  And put her with Dad, who definitely had issues and I'm sure it was a nightmare.  He divorced her after she held him at gun point (one of his guns) after a fight.  Then later, he married another woman, Pat Laird.  She eventually left after running up several credit cards into the $45,000+ range.  When Dad died in 2004, after paying minimum payments for years, they were still well over $40,000.  It was sad to think of him burdened by this debt all those years, but he was too proud to consider bankruptcy. 

Aunt Carolyn married a man named Marvin Young and I believe Jon Young, my oldest cousin, was born in 1956.  Marvin left Carolyn before Jon was born - it would have been a scandalous story at the time if Grandma hadn't been so good at keeping it a secret.  Marvin was sterile and when Carolyn turned up pregnant, he left and Grandma  told only Dad that she had been impregnated by artificial insemination, which was in its infancy. And the family guarded the secret.  If you look up AI in the 1950s, it says a few doctors were doing it on the sly and it was kept very hush-hush.  I'm not even sure that Jon ever knew, which to me seems cruel - allowing him to believe that his father deserted him before he was even born. Anyway, Jon was eventually dumped off on Grandma and Grandpa so Carolyn could go on with her life, and she later married Larry Whitehead.  His first son was Larry (namesake) born in January of 1959, then the second son, Rick, was born in November of the same year!  They split and she had one last son a few years later, Tony, out of wedlock.  I'm just guessing, but I think he was born in 1963 or 1964.  I've been unable to find out when Aunt Carolyn passed away. 

Each generation only had one male child, so the name stopped with my generation.  Wes was the only male child to have the Fredell name, and he didn't have any children.  

Lester lived to be 90, passing in 1993.  Before he passed, Carolyn's oldest son, Jon, successfully persuaded Lester to sign over all of the farm to him, with the exception of the protected 80 acres.  By this time, Lester was in the throes of dementia, but that's very hard and very expensive to prove. This is the farm that had been promised to my Dad, Delaine, as his reward for spending his whole life as the underpaid farmhand.  What he ended with was half of the 80 acres (the other half had to go to Carolyn).  I'm not sure how much land Grandpa had by then.  I would imagine that he very likely bought the rest of the original property from Maxine's heirs because they lived (assumably) in California.  And then he bought Jack Halbert's property after he passed.  So I think surely he had in excess of 300 acres, maybe a lot more. It would have made my Dad's retirement years very comfortable.  But it wasn't to be...

Dad passed in 2004.  Wes passed in 2013.  So the last person to possess the Fredell name is Wes's wife, Sally. 

Winter is officially here...

...and we just passed the winter solstice and the days will now get longer.  Of course, it's too soon to feel it.  It's a couple days before Christmas, which falls on Wednesday this year.  I took last week off... let me explain why.  On Friday (10 days ago), I was working the airport and just as I arrived there, I was starting to feel this pain in my chest.  It was a weird pain, but I have a lot of (what I call) "wrap-around" pain from my back muscles that seem to pretty regularly bother me, so I thought once I got going with my duties, it would stop bothering me.  But it didn't and it started to freak me out a bit.  Susan Lucci has been doing these PSA commercials about women and heart attacks lately, about how different and subtle the signs are for women, and of course that came to mind.  So I left work and called my doctor's office and made an appointment for 2:45 - that was a long 4 hours! I was tempted to see if a friend who lives close by was around so I could go hang out with her.  But I toughed it out.

Well, Cheryl (she's my PA) did all the tests - a couple blood tests and an EKG and a chest xray.  Everything was fine, except she said my right lung looked a little "fluffy" - yes, that's the word she used!  I think she was trying not to freak me out!  She said it looked like I had a touch of pneumonia.  I was shocked - other than this pain, I felt fine!  She sent me home with a script for an antibiotic and one of those prednisone packs where you take 6 pills the first day then one less each day after that.

And the pain went away.  Since it was on the left side, I doubt it had anything to do with the "fluffy" in my right lung, so I concluded that it was probably a "poke" from the universe to get me to the doctor to clear up whatever it was before it got bad.  But, because I work with older people, I decided I probably shouldn't expose them to it just in case I was contagious.  I was planning on taking Thursday (Merry's birthday) and Friday (Mark's birthday) off anyway, so I just took the whole week off.  (It was Mark's 70th birthday, which I thought might kind of be hard... )

The prednisone... OMG, I slept like the dead for 3 nights!  All my aches and pains were gone!!  It was amazing.  And I went on with my week.  Had Pearl groomed on Friday.  Liane came over for dinner on Saturday.  I was starting to feel a little scratchy spot in my throat by the time she left and by Sunday, I was going into what I typically call a full-blown sinus infection.  I think what happened is the antibiotics and steroids got it all loosened up and it started to make its way out.  I've always felt like the scratchy throat is probably caused by something in the mucus that has been sitting in the recesses of the sinuses, turning kind of toxic.  My throat and tongue get SO sore until that stuff gets OUT!  So I had to go ahead and take off until after Christmas because I'm at that point where I have coughing fits that get so nasty that I get close to tossing my cookies!  I think it's likely I won't be able to work Thurs. or Fri. either, but we'll see.  Maybe I'll get over it faster than usual because of the antibiotics...

I have high hopes that today is the worst day and that I'll be ok to join the family for Christmas.  I guess we'll see...  I didn't get any sleep to speak of last night, so I am utterly exhausted. 

*****************

I spent the day dozing off at the dining room table.  I didn't want to take a real nap today while my drainage was heavy because it wakes me every few minutes as it piles up in my throat.  YUK.  So I just watched TV, drank lots of water, sucked on cough drops and dozed.  Oh, and I made me a small batch of French onion soup and ate little bowls of that throughout the day.  Onions are supposed to be very good for fighting colds and such and I LOVE onions soup!  It was DELISH!

And I do feel... well, less awful.  Throat is still sore, but less so.  Still a lot of drainage.  Feeling a little dizzy (I think there's a little infection in my left ear...)

Liane came over for dinner Saturday after she got done working and we had salad and pizza.  We've been meeting for lunch periodically, but she seems to like coming over here better.  She really likes my house, but I think she says she likes it because it's cheaper than going out.  I always pay because she's really strapped all the time, and I don't mind it because I can afford it, but it probably makes her feel bad.  But on the up side, I think I convinced her to go ahead and apply to get her social security when she turns 62 in January.  I know she's not going to get much, but the way she works mostly "under the table", she's never going to add much more to it and might as well have the benefit NOW of having some extra money so she is struggling so much... I figured it out back when I was deciding about it that I would have to live about 11.5 years beyond my full retirement age to justify waiting until full retirement age.  That made it an easy decision!  Of course, if I'd been earning $40,000 a year, it would have been worth waiting, but I was already mostly retired by then...

As for my plants, I'm maintaining everything inside on my regular schedule, but I am having a hard time making myself go out to the GH to water.  This happens most winters - I lose enthusiasm for the one that aren't in my constant line of sight. And they are suffering.  I really need a good kick in the ass to get me out there for a solid few hours.  I think I'll buy an audible book and let Alexa read to me.  Or maybe I'll do what I did last summer - one day when I was painting, I told Alexa to play Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, which is a double album. Worked perfect to keep me on the project!  Ok, I just thought of one to listen to tomorrow!  Planet P Project.  An obscure 80's band whose music I really got into!

Day after Christmas... it was ok.  Brian's prime rib was tasty but a bit rare, even for me.  But better too rare than too done.  It was the usual chaos with the kids.  And the usual annoyance with Merry and her "you're so stupid" looks she's famous for.  It feels like I can't start a conversation about anything without her contradicting my opinion or view or understanding.  It makes it hard to be enthusiastic about hanging out.  I want to have a decent sister relationship, and Mom would want that.  And if I had this trouble with other friends, I would probably say, "hm, maybe it's me".  But I enjoy hanging with my other friends, and conversation is easy and back and forth and no coming away feeling like they think I'm stupid.  I just don't get it why it's so hard with Merry.  And it's not just me... I spend a lot of time cringing at the way she "corrects" Rick, so maybe it's just her personality.  **SIGH** I guess, as they say, it IS what it IS and after this long, it's not likely to change.  Not worth cutting ties, obviously, so I guess I need to just be like teflon and not let it stick! 😁

So I spent an hour or so watering and I definitely have some losses.  But for the most part, the young plants are ok.  But they were DRY.  I need to get some more done yet today - I'm just taking a break after going through about 6 gallons of water!  But here's a new one for me... I noticed the Dischidia ovata above my kitchen sink has baby aphids on it!  WTF???  In the middle of winter?  Aphids are one of those pests that usually come for a short period in late summer and early fall.  They seem to especially love viny plants and attack the newest foliage/vines.  But where would they come from now??  And inside, no less!  Crazy!

I'm back to putting coffee grounds on my plants again.  I try to throw some on top of the soil once every 6 months or so.  They seem to like the acidity.  I just start keeping my little Kuerig pucks and put one whole puck's grounds on the big ones, and about half on the small ones.  It feels good to recycle, especially at the cost of coffee!

I just learned that one of our long-time drivers at Enterprise passed away.  His name was Don Stephenson.  He was quite a character!  I knew that he was into motorcycles and used to race them, but in my search for his obit (which isn't out there yet), I found an article about how MUCH he was into drag racing... so much so that he was inducted into the Nebraska Auto Racing Hall of Fame: About Don I had no idea he was quite so accomplished.  I didn't work with Don much, but he certainly left an impression when I did.  He was one of those ornery characters that you'd expect to live to be 100!  I think he was about 80...

 

Mom's Story

Awhile back, I found a nicely bound notebook in which Mom had started her life story.  She didn't get very far.  I don't know how long ago she started it, but I have a feeling that she might have started it when she felt her end was coming. Looking back, I think she probably knew when she moved in with me that time was short.  In fact, I remember her suggesting, casually and somewhat humorously, a year or two before Mark died that maybe she should come live with us.  I think it may have been evident even then. At that time, I told her (also somewhat humorously) she didn't need the stress of living under our roof. I don't think it would have been good for her to be here at that time.  Mark was in decline, we were both stressed.  He was grumpy all the time.  I could be short with him.  I don't think she would have wanted to be in the middle of all of that...

But none of that matters now.  I really just wanted to get down "on paper" (so to speak) what I know of Mom's life.  And I will interject how our lives intertwined, so this will include some of my life as well, but I really want it to focus on Mom.  As this year and a half has passed, I can't tell you how many times I've thought of some event and said something like, "God, I wish that we had talked more about the past and that I had asked more questions."  There are so many gaps in what I know.  Which the reader will see as I tell the story as I know it...

Mom was born at home in Villisca, Iowa on April 22, 1941, 8 months before the US got involved in World War II. Her father (George Wesley Bean) went off to war...drafted?  I'm not sure.  And I'm not sure what year he came back, but I do know that he never came home to his family, which included Grandma Dora (Bean), Mom's oldest sister Verla and her next older sister Rosalie, and of course Mom.  I don't think Mom ever had any really clear memories of her dad before he left.  Grandma and the girls moved in with Gramdma's mom, Great-grandma Verla, and as I recall, Grandma Dora took a job in a factory "candling" eggs. Here is one of the few photos we have of Grandma Dora:

And somewhere is a photo of Mom's dad (who I never knew so never called Grandpa) with cousin Paul as a baby, and I'll insert it if I can find it.  Paul is a year older than me, and I know her dad died when I was a baby, so probably 1959.  The story is that he had a blood clot in his leg and the doctor sent him home and told him to stay off his feet for a few days.  Well, he went dancing instead and the clot broke loose and went to his heart.  Dropped dead at 44.

I believe Mom was around 6 when Grandma Dora brought home her "new daddy", John Hargan.  He was two years younger than Grandma...by my calculations, Grandma Dora would have been 22 when Mom was born.  Grandma was born in 1919, I think February.  So she would have been 28 when Mom was 6, and John was a couple years younger.  They married, as I understand it, before she brought him home to meet the girls.  Of course, since the older ones are gone as well, I can't confirm that they never met him before they married, but Mom had no recollection of meeting him before. The memory she describes is of being very excited as a little girl to "finally have a daddy".  But she also remembers that it wasn't long before her mom and new daddy got into an epic fight, and the first time after that when Mom spoke to him calling him "daddy", he angrily told her, "I'm not your daddy and don't ever call me that again."  So... sadly, Mom had good old fashioned daddy issues.  I always felt so sad when she talked about either her dad or John (her step-dad).  Both of them were royal screw-ups!  She idealized her dad, fantasizing that he would swoop in and take her away or treat her like a princess.  The man didn't even pay child support - let them live in poverty, at times going hungry, while he moved on with his life. I should be less harsh about her step dad.  He was kind of a jerk with his step daughters, not particularly loving, but at least he provided for the family and was never physically abusive.  When you think about it, here was a mid-20's guy who took on a woman with three children.  I figure the oldest (Aunt Verla) was probably around 10 or 11, older than a child of most 26 year old men!  So even if he wasn't a great "daddy", you have to give the man a lot of credit for taking on that huge financial responsibility and some of the child rearing duties of these girls who had been abandoned by their father.

I think Mom developed "boy-crazy" tendencies pretty early, as a pre-teen and young teenager, probably because of her daddy issues. And she was a pretty girl and outgoing, so I'm sure boys "liked" her. She told stories of an older boy (Lyle Gunderson is the name that comes to mind) who she seriously crushed on as a young teen.  She talked about running around with her older sisters and boys.  She once told me about one time, she came close to being raped by a boy but the attempt was stopped by a cousin... Hearing some of her stories, I think it's a blessing she was born during a more innocent time because she probably would have been used and taken advantage of in today's world.  Here is a picture of her as a young girl.  That's Mom on the left, cousin Connie next to her, I think that's Aunt Verla next to Connie (I assume it's Aunt Judy on her lap) and Aunt Rosalie on the end.  If the baby is Aunt Judy, Mom would be 8 or 9 in this photo.

Aunt Judy is Mom's youngest sister, born in October of 1949.  She was favored by step-dad John, of course, since she was his only child.  Some of that was probably because he had trouble controlling the other girls.  From Mom's stories, I think he thought he might have a chance with her because she was so young when they married, but in his attempts to control her, he made her loathe him.  I'm sure a lot of that came from the older girls' influence on her, but I get the feeling he thought being a good dad meant being a stern disciplinarian.  I'm sure if he could go back and do it again, he would probably let go of that need to control, and would probably dole out more love...

At age 16 and a few months, she married my dad, John Delaine Fredell.  Dad went by his middle name.  How did they meet??  I think she said on their first date, they went to a movie.  I wish I knew what movie...And I wish I knew exactly how they met.  She probably told me (I'm nosy, surely I asked!) but I can not remember.  And I figure if they married when she was 16, they surely met when she was 15.  Dad was 5 years older TO THE DAY (they have the same birthday), which would have been creepy, even criminal, in today's world! Here is a picture of Mom when she was around 15 or 16...

That's Uncle Tom, Mom's dad's brother, who was more of a father to them than her dad ever was.  It's Uncle Tom with Aunt Verla in front.  Aunt Rosalie is on the left fender, Mom is on the right with a kitty.  I found this photo after Mom passed and I just love it!  I have such fond memories of Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary.  Uncle Tom was a little wiry guy and always so kind and always smiling.  Aunt Mary was a tomboy.  I don't ever remember seeing her in a dress and she usually wore baggy jeans and a flannel shirt or what looked like a man's shirt, and she kept her hair very short in a man's style.  It even seemed like she had some of that goop in her hair men wore in their hair back then!  They never had children of their own, but did adopt a boy (Larry) from somewhere in the family - I think probably in Aunt Mary's family.  Mom babysat Larry a lot when he was a baby, so she spent a lot of time at their house. My later memories (in my childhood) of them was when they were living in Clarinda in a little house with no indoor bathroom.  Yikes!  I remember that outhouse in the middle of winter... 

I'm not sure where to insert this because I don't know at what age Mom started smoking, but I have to assume it was before she and Dad got married.  It's important because it would play a role for her a few times in her life.  I know early on she smoked Kool's, and I think that Dad even smoked for awhile, though I have no conscious memory of him smoking, so he must have quit when he was young.

Neither Mom nor Dad graduated from high school.  Mom quit to get married, and Dad quit in the 10th grade because his classmates made fun of him because he was short.  Yes, that sounds stupid, I know!  Especially because he was 6' tall by the time he and Mom married!  But Dad might have been strong physically, but he was truly stunted and weak in character.  He could not take even a good-natured ribbing without getting hurt feelings.  He took everything personally.  He had a best friend in school who protected him from a lot of the shitty way kids treat each other, but Dad was always more comfortable being alone and away from people.  I think it was asign of his mental illness...

Mom and Dad married in August of 1957, so Mom was 16 and Dad was 21.  They were literally EXACTLY 5 years apart in age - both born on April 22, Dad in 1936 and Mom in 1941.  Mom says Dad tried to convince her that they should live in an apartment in Red Oak, but there was a big old family farmhouse across the field from Grandma and Grandpa's that they offered and Mom wanted to live there.  Maybe knowing what she knew after a few years, she may have thought better of that.  In the series "Everybody Loves Raymond", there's an episode where they go back and look at when Ray and Debra were younger and had their little girl and were expecting the twin boys, living in an apartment.  They decide to look for a house and his parents stopped by to tell them the house across the street was for sale.  They looked at it and Debra loved it, but Ray tried to convince she would NOT be happy living that close to his parents.  This episode reminds me every time of Mom and Dad and the story she told about Dad trying to talk her out of living on the farm.  He KNEW how intrusive his mother would be, and what a total dick his dad was toward him.  But Dad was not a "take charge" kind of guy and usually took the path of least resistance because he hated conflict.  So rather than put his foot down (like most men did back then!), he gave in and they lived on the farm.  

About Grandma, who's name was Gladys, but who we called "Grandma Dogs"... She bred and raised Dachshunds, thus Grandma Dogs (to distinguish her from Grandma Dora...) She was no sweet little old Grandma.  Not affectionate at all that I remember.  But because they were so close by, we saw quite a bit of her.  And oh the things that I later realized Mom had to put up with.  She called a LOT.  She was a busy-body and knew everyone's business, probably spending time listening in on the party line. And she raised a mama's boy in my dad.  Not that Mom ever said that - it's just a conclusion after hearing stories and realizing that Dad seemed to tell Grandma EVERYthing.  

A few things I can attest to that tell you who my grandma was... her house was filthy.  She kept it relatively neat, mind you.  I don't remember it being particularly cluttered, certainly no more so that our house.  But it felt absolutely grungy.  She never dusted, I'm sure.  The dogs would poop under her bed and you could see it under there from the living room.  The carpets were stinky and filthy.  She was not a good housekeeper to say the least.  Grandma and Grandpa provided most of our meat as part of Dad's pay.  Mom would go over to get it and Grandma would dole it out.  I can remember many times we would walk in and Grandma would be in the process of mixing up food for the dogs, which entailed putting kibble in a big bowl, adding water and mixing it wither her hands, then putting it out into a few bowls.  She would finish that, smear her hands on her house dress (not wash them, mind you) then get out a big mound of hamburger and lop off an end of it with the hands that had been in the dog food, wrap it up and give it to Mom.  As a child, I didn't think much of it, but ew... Mom, I'm sure, went home and cleaned it up.  

And those house dresses she wore... they make me think of a hospital gown with no open back.  And she wore NOTHING underneath.  She would just wipe her dirty hands on it and by mid-afternoon, she looked like a crazy, dirty old street lady.  She never did much of anything with her hair so it was messy.  But on church day, she would get all gussied up and outsiders would never know the mess she was the other 165 hours a week!  I remember Mom telling me a story that a salesman told her.  (If I recall correctly, this was the World Herald guy that would come around periodically and collect for the paper...)  He had just been to Grandma's and he said, "I think your mother-in-law just came on the me." (I'm sure he used different vernacular back then...) "No way!" my mom said.  So he went on to describe how he was sitting at the kitchen table having coffee and she hiked her foot up onto one of the kitchen chairs and made sure he could see that she had no underwear on under her house dress!  Oh, yikes Mom, did you really have to tell me THAT story?? LOL!  Well, she reminded me that at that time, Grandma would have been in her 50s, so maybe almost "doable" and not so much the "old lady" I remember! 😬

Which brings me to Grandpa, who was a real son-of-a-bitch toward Dad.  In later years, apparently he told Jon (my cousin, who will need to be described a bit later) that he always suspected that he was not Dad's father.  After hearing the story above, I can see why he might think that!  And it kind of explains (but does not excuse) the deplorable way he treated Dad.  They treated him like a slave with the promise that he would someday inherit the vast majority of the farm as his reward for working hard for peanuts.  They wouldn't allow him to plant because he wasn't "smart enough", but he was expected to do everything else... slop the hogs, feed the cattle (when we had them), and I'm sure he did the other field stuff that didn't involve planting.  And by the way, Dad was very smart - but he was so incredibly insecure because of being beaten down by his parents, which they did to make sure he didn't have the confidence to go out and make a living some other way.  Anyway, Grandpa (Lester) in the end, when he had bad dementia, ended up signing over the farm to the cousin I mentioned before, Jon.  So Dad got nothing but 40 acres that were in a will from 3 generations back that could NOT go to anyone BUT Dad.  (It was 80 to be split with his sister, Caroline.)

I know that was a lot, but because Grandma and Grandpa were such a huge part of Mom's life for the 17 years she was married to Dad, I think it was important to give a clear picture of who they were to show how they affected her life.  If Dad hadn't been so totally beaten down, so attached to his mother, they may have had a peaceful life and maybe stayed married longer. And maybe he wouldn't have been as screwed up as he was.  Because of the way he was raised, we were always convinced that he was schizophrenic.  His sister was diagnosed and they were a lot alike, though Dad was more functional.  I know a lot of doctors would probably say schizophrenia is not caused, but a brain disorder.  But I think whatever their mental illness was was probably caused by the way they were raised.  When 2 out of 2 children are f*cked up, it's likely the parent's fault!  And they went on to raise Aunt Caroline's 4 boys and managed to f*ck up 3 of them as well! (I would apologize for being so blunt, but I can't think of any word that would adequately accentuate how badly they behaved and how seriously they screwed up people they were supposed to love...)

Back to Mom.  I was born in November of 1958, a little over a year after they were married... 

The doc said I was going to be a boy, so my name was going to be Dennis.  So I'm Denise Kay - I have Mom's middle name.  Above is one of the few professional pictures they ever had taken. Weren't they a pretty couple?  I'm not sure how long that was taken after I was born.  But apparently, when Mom went into labor with me and went to the hospital, a nurse told her, "Oh, honey, you can't be anywhere near ready to deliver!  I'm sure it's false labor.  Just go on home."  I probably would have been tempted to give her a right cross, but Mom said they got a hotel because they drove clear to Creston's hospital, which is an hour from the farm.  (Why so far, I asked... because that's where ol' Dr. Johnson practiced.) And sure enough, I was born a few hours later.

Oh, another aside, another weirdness about my dad.  He didn't trust the doc to look at Mom "down there" and insisted on always being in the room when she was being examined when she went in for checkups.  But back then, they didn't let dads in the room when babies were being born, so I imagine it made him crazy that ol' Doc was getting an eye-full without him there to make sure he behaved!  LOL

Wesley Claire (Wes) was born on April 30, 1961...

And Merry Noel was born December 19, 1962...
 

I'm sure there's a baby picture of Merry somewhere, probably in the album Mom gave her, but this is the best I can do.  Merry is the only one of us who was born with hair, and she is the one who is olive-skinned like Dad.  I was fair and blond (when I finally got hair!) and Wes's hair turned out to be red.  She got a real variety pack in us! 😀

Here are some more pics of when we were young:

Those pics that show the porch give you an idea of that lovely farmhouse we grew up in!  What a shithole it was.  I mean, I don't remember ever thinking that as a child.  It was home.  It was metaphorically warm and literally loving.  Mom was the BEST mom anyone could ever ask for!  Until I was a teenager, she was the bomb.  And of course, she became the bomb again after I got past those (miserable for her!) teenage years.  And I'm not saying she was my best friend as a child.  But she was a great mom.  Fun and loving, but a disciplinarian when she needed to be.  Always setting a good example and having expectations that we were happy to live up to.  And at the same time, not trying to force us in a direction or path like so many parents do today.  She wanted us to be who WE wanted to be, but the best version of that person.

Going back to the house... the paint had worn off of it years ago.  There was tar paper showing in some places.  It was a two story house, but we didn't use the upstairs because it wasn't heated.  We used two stand-alone space heaters, one in the living room and one on the bedroom side of the house, because they could never get the furnace working properly.  So in the winter, it was chilly unless you were hanging out close to one of the heaters.  Merry and I slept in the biggest bedroom (which used to be the kitchen when I was really little).  Mom and Dad had a small bedroom off our bedroom, and Wes had what I think was probably once a closet also off the big bedroom, but it was so cold that if he left a glass of water on the floor, it would get a little crust of ice overnight!  When I was about 8 or so, Grandma and Grandpa splurged and had that old slate-type siding put on the house, but only on the 3 sides you could see from the road!  Cheap S.O.B.s! But wow, did it improve the exterior appearance!  

But inside, Mom did a great job of making it feel like a nice home.  She didn't have much to work with, and probably most of what they had was second or third hand, but it was cozy.  And we didn't really know any better, that it was maybe cheap and a little worn.  We had the "stuff" that makes for a good home - love, attention, kindness, and fun.  It's easy to look back and say "Wow, we were poor!" But we had SO much more than SO many of the richer kids.

Mom's youngest sister, Aunt Judy, came to live with us for awhile.  Grandma Dora and step-dad John had split up and John was living in Illinois (I believe) and Grandma was in Omaha I think. And they had both moved on to new love interests and Aunt Judy was kind of pushed aside.  Kind of like, "YOU take her", "No, YOU take her!" kind of thing.  Terrible what parents do to their kids... If you asked Mom, she would say Grandma was a good mom, and maybe she was when she was young, I don't know.  But I'm not so sure.  She talked about how Grandma would call her "fat" (Mom gained a little weight after having children, but for God's sake, she was a freakin' bean pole before that!).  I remember her as drunk most of the time.  I usually kind of dreaded when we would go to visit.  But back to Aunt Judy, she got married at 15, which would have been in 1964 or '65, so it was before that and I'm not sure for how long. It was fun having her there.  She was (is) 9 years older than me, so if she was 13, I would have been 4 and Wes was 2, Merry would have been a baby.  I remember the three of us in a bed together at bedtime and she had makeshift sock puppets on her hands and called them Henry and Henrietta!  It's probably why I always felt like Aunt Judy was an older sister...

Mom quit smoking - and this is just an estimate, but I would say when I was about 10, so probably in the late 60's.  Her struggle left an impression on me at that age and I never even thought about smoking a few years later as a teenager.  Merry and Wes were young enough I don't think they were as impacted by it and both of them smoked for a period of time in their lives.  But thankfully, both of them quit, probably in their 30's.

Mom was a housewife until (and I'm guessing here) around 1970 or '71. She took a job cleaning at the country club in Red Oak.  I don't really  remember if Dad had an objection to it, but I suspect that it was a double edged sword for him.  I think the idea of his wife working probably was a blow to his ego, but on the other hand, the extra money took some of the pressure off of him. I don't think she did the country club gig for very long, until she started waiting tables at a little cafe in Stanton. Because Mom was so outgoing, she got to know a lot of people in Stanton, and one of those that came by often was Tom Messer, a local insurance salesman.  He had a little office there on main street and, at some point, his "girl Friday" was pregnant and leaving once she gave birth.  Mom heard Tom talking with someone at lunch about trying to find a replacement and summoned the courage to ask him if she could apply for the job. I'm sure this was hard for her - she hadn't graduated from high school (but by then, I think she had her GED).  She was a self-taught typist, so she was not fast.  And she had zero office experience.  But Mom was never short on self-esteem, so I'm sure she gave it her all.  And he hired her.  And apparently he saw real potential in Mom because it wasn't long before he had her selling insurance and tax shelter annuities for Kansas City Life Insurance Company.

I can't remember exactly when Mom joined a church called the Worldwide Church of God.  There was an evangelist on the radio, I think the program was called "The World Tomorrow", and she subscribed to their magazine "The Plain Truth".  This was an old-testament church that celebrated old Jewish holidays for the most part.  No Christmas or Easter, not because they didn't believe in Jesus, but because those holidays have no Biblical basis.  We went to church on Saturday because there is no Biblical basis for going on Sunday.  It was a very fundamentalist church and very different from everything else out there.  She had been on a quest to find her spiritual niche and this church was a fit for a few years.  Dad was not part of this, but she took us to church, which was clear up in Omaha (about an hour drive) and we learned a lot about the Bible.  If I had to guess when she joined the church, I'd have to say it was probably after she started working because she bought a little old 1962 Studebaker for going to church, and I find it hard to believe that they would have had the money to have a second car and if she wasn't working, there would be no need for a second car. Oh, and in 1972, I turned 14 and got my driver's permit (the MOMENT I turned 14!) and I learned to drive in the Studebaker.  So by then, I'm sure she'd had it for awhile.

Around the beginning of 1973, a neighbor down the road from us passed away and Grandpa bought his farm, which included the house that he and his wife lived in.  We moved into that house, which was such a big move up!  It was a cozy little house with a nice size kitchen with this neat black and white tile on the floor. It was big enough for a kitchen table, but off the kitchen was a nice formal dining room which was connected to the living room by a big open doorway.  There was a front door that led to a porch, and on the opposite wall was a doorway that led to a hall that had a big closet to the right and back, a built in broom closet immediately right from the doorway, and across the hall was the bathroom.  I'm not 100% sure, but I don't remember there being a tub, only a shower in there, but I could be wrong.  Down the hallway close to the kitchen was the door to the stairs that went to the 3 bedrooms upstairs.  At the top of the stairs you first came to what looked like a little closet, but it was actually a tiny room (that had a step up to it!) with just a toilet in it.  The first bedroom you came to was Wes's.  Mom and Dad's was straight across the hall from Wes's, and Merry and I had a bedroom in between.  It was SUCH a cool bedroom!!  It faced east so that when the sun came up in the morning, the whole room was flooded with light!  Even back then, the sun was my friend!  I loved that room in the morning!  It felt like we were living large in that house, even though it was really just another little old farmhouse.  But it was such a big step up from the drafty old house we'd been living in...

Mom and Dad divorced in the summer of 1974 after 17 years of marriage.  I was 15, getting ready to turn 16, so Merry was 11 and Wes had just turned 13.  I remember the night we left like it was yesterday.  Mom was working and I would get dinner started sometimes.  That night, I was making spaghetti.  We would make the sauce with the Chef Boyardee mix in tomato sauce, and I had it all going and it was getting close to being done.  Dad came barreling in with one of his rifles, in a tizzy about a neighbor who was dozing down trees on his land.  Dad was a tree-hugger before it was cool.  He loved nature, everything about it.  I said something like, "Well, you can't be mad because they're his trees."  And he didn't like that!  He turned his anger towards me and kind of scared me, but I stayed cool.  He was pacing around with the rifle, angry, and now drinking beer, too, and he would occasionally sit and load it and unload it, all the time raging about the trees and how he should go stop him from dozing them down.  I remember Merry and Wes were in the living room, watching Yellow Submarine on TV, somewhat oblivious to what was going on.  I was getting dinner on the table when Mom walked in. By then, he had settled down a little, and was in the livingroom, so I quickly told her what had been happening and how it had gotten a little scary.  Well, that was it... she decided he was escalating.  He'd done stuff like this before, but not so much in front of us kids.  And I think she was worried that one day, it could end very badly if she stayed...  So we grabbed a few things and left.  He didn't try to stop us.  We drove to Omaha and stayed with Aunt Judy and her family for about a month while Mom threw together a plan. (Aunt Judy's family was also involved with the aforementioned church.)  She decided Harlan, Iowa was a good central point of the territory she was working for the insurance company and she found a little house to rent.  And I believe it was August of 1974 that we moved to Harlan, into a house that, one month later, the owners decided to sell!  So she found another house down the street to rent and we moved again.

And now we were "city kids" and started school in a much larger school than we'd been going to.  I had started high school, my freshman year, in Griswold Iowa and my class was right at 100 students.  In Harlan, my class was around 250!  But things were going well for the most part.  We lived in that house, which was like another step up, for about 2-1/2 years at which point Mom bought a house.  This was such a big step!  When Mom got divorced, it was a time when divorced women could be turned down (and mostly were) for credit because they were divorced!  Yes, it was legal!  Can you imagine... here Mom was, making far more money than Dad ever did, and she couldn't get her own credit because she was a divorcee!  Thankfully, it wasn't long after that the law changed. 

Mom was working in a mostly man's world.  Women were only just starting to get into predominantly male fields, and sales was one of those.  She was a single woman in her 30's working with mostly men and I think she enjoyed the attention she got.  At that time, the church had a stance about divorce... if you were married before becoming a member and later divorced, you could only remarry if you married a church member.  After she and Dad divorced, she dated a man named Len Carper who was a member of the church, and even became engaged.  He was a nice enough man, but seemed older (I'm sure he was though I couldn't ell you how much older.)  He was financially secure, had two older sons I believe. But he was not particularly handsome or interesting.  I think maybe she was thinking "stability" and was perhaps a little more insecure than she let on about the future.  When she broke the engagement off, the excuse was that he had made some comment along the lines of "Once we're married, I'll help you get these kids straightened out."  Like there was something wrong with us!  Whether she was already having second thoughts or not, I was glad that it ended.  He was nice enough, but I have a feeling he was not someone we would have seen as a good step-dad.  And as it turned out, he had a serious gambling problem, something Mom found out years later when he married another woman in the church. 

There just weren't any men in the church she had much interest in, and I think as she started to realize that she probably had a choice of being alone or looking outside the church and leaving it behind.  So her convictions loosened a bit.  She stayed and continued to attend, but I think she was at a point where she didn't necessarily agree with all of its tenets.  So she quietly dated outside of the church, but I think she purposefully didn't get very serious with anyone. 

There is someone in her life I want to mention here.  And I have limited knowledge of this, but she was somewhat forthcoming with me during a certain time when I was divorcing my first husband.  At some point in time, and it may go clear back to the time of her secretarial job, she became involved with Tom Messer, her boss at that job.  He was a married man who had no intention of ever leaving his wife, and I honestly don't think that Mom ever had that kind of stake in the relationship.  He was older than her - seemed like a lot older, but looking him up, he was 11 years older.  Honestly, I think it was probably an attraction that had something to do with her daddy issues. But this went on for many years, well into her second marriage that I'll talk about later... It was an easy relationship to conceal because he was her mentor in the insurance job, and they worked together to a certain extent.  So if they were seen together, it was "just business." And later, after she left that job, he was a "longtime friend."

I'll go into a couple of the men I know of that Mom dated between Len and her marriage to Herb.  Mom didn't introduce her man friends to us - I think she felt, like most good parents do, that you only introduce "keepers" to your children.  And you can't know that for quite some time.  I only remember meeting one, and that was only because (if I remember correctly) that he had a breakdown of his vehicle one night when they were out.  He was from out of town (in town on a construction job - he was a surveyor), back east if I remember correctly.  And I can't remember - I think he was staying in some town a distance away, and since it was late, she invited him to stay at our house.  But I suspect that the intention was for him to leave very early, before we got up.  Mom slept on the couch and gave him her bed. (Or at least that's what she said, and I can't imagine Mom would take a chance of one of us walking in on them!) I was up early and went into Mom's room to ask her something and ran into him... WHOOPS!  I don't remember any other details, except that Mom said he was a "friend" who needed a place to crash.  He was younger than her and kind of hot, so back then, the story seemed plausible because why would a "hot" guy want my Mom??  Of course, Mom was pretty hot and I just didn't see her that way!  LOL.  But she was apparently serious enough with this guy that he bought her a nice ring that she made sure Merry got when she passed.  So there was definitely some affection there.  It turned out he was married, though the marriage was on the rocks according to him.  But he "went back to her" at some point, so maybe it was, maybe it wasn't.  

And the other one is one I never met and one I described awhile back, but here it is again:

When I was in my late forties, my mother told me that she wanted me to have this painting when she passed because it had sentimental value for her.  I can’t really remember when it showed up on her wall, and I don’t ever remember asking about it.  I guess I always assumed it was one of those original paintings one gets at those “starving artist” shows that come around because Mom wasn’t the type to spend a lot of money on stuff like that.  Of course, she knew she had to now explain its “sentimental” value… That means this story is second-hand, and since Mom passed in 2023, I’m now wishing she was here to fill in some of the details…

Mom met an art teacher who she apparently started to date and became quite close to.  From her description, they were getting close enough to talk about introducing him to us kids and discussing the possibility of marriage when he was tragically killed in a car accident.  Looking back, I realize that this means my mother was secretly grieving a terrible loss as we never knew about this…

Apparently some time later, Mom was contacted by another art teacher – from the same school?  I’m not sure, but one who apparently was fairly close to her art teacher beau because he knew about the painting.  Her beau had started this painting to give to her and the accident occurred before he finished it.  This other art teacher had taken it upon himself to finish the painting, professionally frame it and present it to her.  I can only imagine the overwhelming feeling of gratitude to the friend who finished it, sadness at what might have been, and pain in having to hide her grief from us.  I don’t remember seeing the painting back then and I suspect that she probably put it away at the time.  Perhaps to a small degree to not have to explain it to us, but probably more because seeing it daily would exacerbate her grief.  What can be a painful reminder after a tragic loss often, after time has passed, becomes a poignant reminder of a beautiful time. Here is the painting...

 

In 1975, Grandma Dora (Mom's mom) passed away.  She was a raging alcoholic that also popped pills, and apparently her lungs filled up when she was passed out drunk. She was only 56, which means Mom was only 34.  Her real dad had passed away when I was a baby at age 44, so she had lost him when she was still a teen.  

In 1977, I graduated from high school and then married in July.  Paul and I married at his parent's home - they were in the process of moving to Hancock so the house was almost empty.  They left some furniture to use for the cake and punch reception after.  We married in the back yard with his brother officiating.  After a month in an adorable apartment, Paul took a job with Wheeler's in Seward, Nebraska and we moved.  So now Mom's oldest daughter was 125 miles away with no phone.  We would occasionally use a pay phone across the street to call home, but otherwise, we were unreachable.  (Imagine that in today's world!) 

Wes ended up graduating from high school in 1978 (a year early), but by this time, he had moved to Dad's and graduated from Griswold.  He had a lot of issues when he was living with Dad... I wasn't aware of most of this until later.  He got into drugs, I think mostly pot but I also think some other stuff I'd rather not know about.  He was living with Dad and his second wife and her kids, a bunch of rowdy teenagers from what I gathered.  He got into legal trouble as well, but I think a lot of it had to do with some unsavory kids that were making his life miserable and his response to that.  But Wes was smart, and he managed to straighten out before he got in too deep.  

Back "at the ranch", Mom was having all kinds of issues with Merry.  Again, I wasn't privy to the details because I was so far away with little to no communication, and it wasn't like Mom to dis or complain about a sibling when the rare opportunity came along to see each other or talk on the phone.  But later, it sounded like Merry was getting in trouble at school for fighting and skipping school.  She was also "dating" Rick (her husband) and she was only 14 and he was my age, 18. During all of this discourse, Mom started smoking again. Sometime in early 1978, after Merry turned 15, she told Mom she wanted to get married.  I don't know if it was before or after this that Mom called the local sheriff and tried to get Rick arrested for statutory rape.  I'm not sure exactly how that went, but it sounds like the authorities really didn't want to get involved and it just served to piss Merry off.  And when Mom said "no" to signing papers so Merry could get married, she simply threatened to get pregnant so she would have to. Well, I don't think that she necessarily would "have to" sign, but Merry knew very well that Mom wouldn't want her to have a baby out of wedlock, which was kind of a no-no back then.  Or at least "good" families saw it as a humiliation.  So Mom signed the papers and they got married in April 1978.

I remember Mom giving me a heads-up about them getting married and she said, "I know I'm going to get your sister back in a few years, probably with a couple kids!"  And under normal circumstances, she would have been right.  But I'm happy to report that it all worked out fine...Merry went on to get her GED, then went to nursing school and graduated as an RN in 1985 was a nurse for some years.  As of 2024, they've been married for 46 years now, have two awesome sons who are both successful engineers, and they're living large in a nice home.  Had a landscaping and nursery business for more than 20 years and just closed it last year so they could (semi?) retire.  And Mom and Rick ended up being best of friends - he never harbored resentment and she let go of the way it all started.  

Sometime during this tumultuous time, Mom sold the house in Harlan and moved to Omaha.  She had given up the insurance business and started working in an office building near 72nd & Dodge. That's where she met Herb (Eveland) who she eventually married.  I never could figure out what she found attractive about him.  He certainly wasn't physically attractive.  And I found him rather obnoxious.  I can only surmise that it was the fact that he was the polar opposite of Dad.  Dad was shy and introverted.  Herb was gregarious and loud and was often offensive.  Dad was non-confrontational.  Herb could come across provocative and insulting.  He thought he was a real comedian, but sometimes, it seemed like his ha-ha comments were veiled slights.  But if you asked Mom what she saw in him, she said he was fun and that he had a kinder side she saw from time to time.  I didn't get it... And apparently she did temporarily come to her senses because several years later, she confessed that she tried to break off the engagement.  But she said Herb broke down and cried and begged her not to break it off, that he needed her and... well, you get the idea.  It was what she called the "little boy" in him that cinched the deal and kept her there for the next 17 years.

And the worst part, IMO, was that he was a financial mess.  He owned his own business, I suspect because he probably couldn't keep a normal job.  He had (and still has) a collectibles business.  At that time, ball cards were the rage and that's how he made most of his money.  He was on the road at shows and had a shop here in town.  But Mom paid most of the bills.  They married the beginning of 1980 just before I left to join Paul in Biloxi.  At that time, they lived in an apartment.  Then they bought a little house in 1981 or '82.

Wes's story was a little messier and I'm not going to get into a lot of detail, only because this is Mom's story.  Out of high school, Wes came to live with me and Paul - by that time, we were living in Grand Island, Nebraska, which is another 75 miles beyond Seward, so now 200 miles from Harlan.  He had a weird sore on his back when he came out and we eventually took him to a doctor when it didn't heal.  The short version of this story is that he was finally diagnosed with a RARE disease called malignant pyoderma gangrenosum.  This disease, simply put, is an auto-immune disease in which the immune system attacks the skin.  By the time he was 30, he looked like he had been in a severe fire.  Just an awful, horribly painful and disfiguring disease.  He lived with Mom for the next few years, spending a lot of time in hospitals including the Mayo Clinic and even Stanford in California at a time after Paul entered the military and we were living in California. 

As for Merry... Merry and Rick had their two boys:  Brian was born in August of 1979, and Jeremy was born in February of 1981.  I think that by this time, Rick was working at Earl May.  They bought their first house in Plattsmouth in 1982, and 5 years later in 1987, Rick went out on his own and started Mr. Landscape.  A few years after that in 1991, they moved up to a larger home with some property.  In  1997, they bought some land in Beaver Lake and put up a commercial building and started a nursery business to go with the landscaping business.  Up to this point, Merry had been a nurse but she decided to leave nursing and dive into the business.  With their success, they were able to build a new large home in Beaver lake in 2002.  By this time, both of the boys had graduated from High School and were attending college.  Both got engineering degrees - Brian works at one of the premier engineering firms in town (Alvine Engineering) and Jeremy owns his own commercial fire sprinkler business in Plattsmouth (Great Plains Fire Specialists).

So going back to the early 80s and my life... After Paul enlisted, we just kept getting further and further away... first, Biloxi Mississippi for 6 months.  Then Vandenberg AFB in California for a year and a half, then Guam for 2 years.  That was 7000 miles away!  Talking on the phone from Guam cost $2/minute back then, so I think we only called home twice in that two years!  So at this point, she had one child a bazillion miles away (might as well have been!), one living nearby but who I'm sure she was worried about because she was so young trying to live an adult life.  And Wes, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and worrying about what his future held if they didn't get this disease under control.  And last but not least, Herb, who was good at getting into it with Wes.  He spent a lot of time pacing around, smoking cigars and ranting about people.  She had a lot on her plate...

1984 was a big year.  Paul and I came home from Guam when he got out of the Air Force - that was in March.  We stayed with Mom and Herb (and Wes, it was a full house!)  We flew two pets ahead of us - a cat and a guinea pig.  (Yes, it was expensive but I get SO attached!)  The two cats we had before leaving for Guam were still at Paul's parent's house in Hancock, Iowa, and there would have been plenty of room for us to stay there, but it would have been difficult to look for work and quite a commute once we found work.  The plan was for us to get jobs, get settled and fin a house to buy.  Back then, house-buying was not a fast  thing to do.  There were no "pre-qualifying" loan applications, so you found a house THEN applied for a loan to see if you qualified.  Oh, and only one bid was considered at a time.  A seller couldn't move on to the next offer until he declined the first offer.  So it took until late August or so to get moved into a home we found a few blocks from Mom's.

It was also the year that Mom started catering unofficially.  She worked in an office of the Methodist church's hierarchy (in other words, not in an actual church but at the "main" offices) and they had meetings where they would bring in a caterer for lunch.  Mom (nor her boss) were impressed with what they were getting and Mom asked if they would let her give it a shot.  She knew she could do better - she was a great cook and smart, could figure out what would work and what wouldn't.  And her lunches were a hit!  It wasn't long before she started getting requests for other small things.  And then the church had some very big event, I can't remember the specifics, but they asked if she thought she could handle "bag lunches" (literally) for around 400 people!  That was a big one and we were all involved in it and it went well and that launched her business.  At first, she got an extra stove for her basement, and then within some months, she took the leap, quit her job and got a small bay in the industrial area, took out a loan and put in a full kitchen to work out of there.  And to get a little revenue going, she sold lunches to local workers, even putting ads on the radio! Wes would come in and help at lunchtime.  When she got into bigger events, I would help on weekends, and I started doing her payroll each week.

So back to 1984 - that was also the year that Wes got married.  He met Sally at the Mayo Clinic when Paul and I were still on Guam. Sally was from the Indianapolis area, and she had Lupus, which was why she was at the Mayo Clinic. Sometime in the summer of 1984, while we were still at Mom & Herb's, she came to Omaha and stayed with us as well!  That was 6 adults living in that little house!  LOL.  But Mom, Wes and I all get along.  Paul was pretty cooperative, and Sally we didn't know that well, but she was a sweetheart.  Herb was surprisingly tolerant, so it was fairly harmonious.  

Wes and Sally found the cutest apartment and moved there.  Now, mind you, Sally's parents were very religious and would have been mortified to find out they were "living in sin."  They thought they had separate bedrooms at Mom's, and thought she stayed there when Wes moved to the apartment.  They married in October, in Indiana.  Wes and Sally went out ahead, and Mom, Herb, Paul and I and a friend of Wes's drove out the day before the wedding.  Wes landed in the hospital soon after their nuptials... they figure the stress of it all aggravated his condition.  

Sally worked at an insurance company and was the breadwinner while Wes stayed home.  He wasn't really able to work and had applied for and eventually got Social Security disability.  But he was a great "homemaker".  Seems like most men of our generation took a page from their father's book and didn't want to lift a finger at home - that was "woman's work."  And even though women were often working 40 hours a week, they were expected to do all the "woman's work" as well.  That was the boat I was in, Merry as well.  But Wes was Mr. Clean, Mr. Tidy - a place for everything, and everything in its place!  The only thing he did NOT do was dust, and Sally was perfectly happy to do that with Wes doing everything else.  (I would be, too!!!!!!)  It really worked for them.  Because of the Lupus, an 8 hour workday wiped her out and she probably couldn't have done much of anything around the house even if she had wanted to.  Wes had enough stamina and energy to take care of the house.

So by the end of 1984, Mom and Herb were alone again.  Well, alone almost for the first time, really!  I think they may have lived together for a short time before Wes came to live with her, but I'm not sure of that.  

At the beginning of 1986, Paul and I were splitting up.  I had grown up a lot in the 8 years we'd been married and it just wasn't a place I wanted to be anymore.  Paul was too clingy, always wanting to do EVERYthing together, which was wonderful when I was that new wife of 18.  But I was wanting an autonomous identity, to have friends independent of our marriage, have interests I could pursue along.  I didn't do a good job of communicating that because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. The "all-in" kind of relationship is what he thrived on and I knew expressing my desires would crush him, but he would want to try to make it work because this was his 2nd marriage, and we would both be miserable, so I tried to make it a clean break and just say "I want out."  So I moved back in with Mom and Herb to stay there until I could find an apartment I could afford.  I was working for a small HVAC company as a full-charge bookkeeper, and I started looking.  By this time, I had met Mark and we were moving fast.  I found an apartment and moved in the first of March, 1986.  Mark was there so much that it wasn't long that most of his stuff was there as well.  So we were essentially living together before we even went to court for our divorce in June... I was so appreciative of the fact that Mom was supportive and not judgemental about my decisions.

The business was getting busier - she was catering into a lot of different halls around town, and it was a lot of work.  Cooking then loading up food for big groups, unloading it on the other end, serving, then packing it all up again, taking it back to home base and cleaning everything up.  She started to think about how much easier it would be to have her own hall and as those of us who understand the Law of Attraction know, "ask and it is given" by the Universe.  One day, a property manager called her out of the blue and asked if she had considered renting a space as a party venue.  He had a space up for rent and he was calling caterers to spark interest.  Of course, she said she had certainly thought about it - where was this venue?  He told her and she immediately knew of it.  We had catered into it a couple times and it was a really nice space, a turnkey operation.  She said, "How much do they want for rent?"  $3000 was the answer.  Mom laughed out loud - she was paying $285 to rent the warehouse bay, so this was over 10 times what she was paying now.  The broker said, "Would you like to look at it anyway?" and Mom's said, "Sure, what the hell!"  And she called me and I went with her.

When we did the walk through, I could feel Mom's excitement.  I just kept saying, "Remember, Mom, you have to come up with $3000 every month!! And this place has no calendar!"  In other words, there were no events booked.  Most weddings book at least 6 months out and many book a year out.  That would mean months of paying rent with no revenue coming in.  Oh, she might get some little impromptu events like meetings, but the bread and butter of most caterers are weddings.  And she did have some "out" jobs scheduled (meaning at other venues).  But $3000 a month!!  This was 1990...

She talked to the owners and they offered her a few months rent free to get her going.  She was GOOD at selling herself, good at showing her enthusiasm and she was lucky that the owners were the kind of people who liked to encourage entrepreneurship.  She put a plan together to open a little restaurant (Karen's Kitchen) at one end of the hall, and then decided to have a bar as well. She changed the sign from "The Fireside" to "Karen's Fireside" for the rental hall.  She dove in (I told her she had brass balls!) and spent the next 18 months working 16 hour days and building a calendar.  Herb helped by tending bar when he could, and she hired kitchen and wait staff help. When she had a good calendar and was making enough to manage the $3000 rent, she closed the restaurant and bar and concentrated on the catering and hosted mostly wedding receptions.  Her prices were cheap (probably too cheap!) and on top of that, she threw in a free wedding cake and hand-made mints with every wedding booked.  She made enough to cover all her costs, but she never really paid herself a decent living wage.  I don't think it was really that important to her - she was doing what she loved and it wasn't about the money.  But within a couple years, she was encouraging me to come into the business with her.  By this time, I was making a decent living as an office manager and full charge bookkeeper and my response was always, "Mom, you don't pay yourself jack-shit - how can you pay me what I need to live one?"

In 1994, as if she wasn't working enough, Mom started talking about a location to open a second venue.  Of course she was busy - she hadn't raised her prices hardly at all and was still giving away the wedding cakes.  They were practically knocking down the doors to come to our venue!  Where else could they get outstanding food at such a great price with all the other perks? 

Around that time in early 1994, I had a knock-down-drag-out fight with my boss of 10 years and quit my job.  Three months later, I took a job at the Douglas County Housing Authority and a $10,000 pay hit.  It was the job from hell, and I managed to stick with it for 10 months until March 1995.  I had been helping one of Mark's friends who was a framer do bookkeeping for his business, so had this little PT side-gig. Add that to being part of Mom's crew and doing her payroll, it was a little money coming in. 

By this time, Mom had been actively looking for another venue and it wasn't long after I quit that job that we looked at a hall in Papillion and saw it's potential.  It had 13 future jobs booked so she jumped in and bought the building and since I wasn't working a full-time job, I could manage that one and hopefully, it could support me within a year.  In the meantime, coincidentally, that framer that I was working very PT for was going into home building as a general contractor and needed someone more hours to answer phones and do paperwork in addition to the bookkeeping I'd been doing.  So the plan was for me to do that for a year or so while Karen's Fireside II got established at which point I would help him train someone to take over for me.  Funny how things seem to work out!

So this hall, which was called "Midlands Reception Center" was just that - a big, empty, undecorated, plain-Jane hall with tile floor (terrible acoustics!), old rickety 8' tables and metal folding chairs.  Totally unclassy!!  The kitchen was small with a residential kitchen sink, some commercial refrigeration - not at all ready for what we do.  But the plan was to do all the cooking at the original Fireside and send it over with a crew to serve.  I would do all the room setup and have bartender(s) on my end.

First thing we did was have the hall carpeted and have a fireplace put in.  After all, it was called "Karen's Fireside" - it HAD to have a fireplace!  It wasn't as grand as the one at the original place, but it was very nice.  We also went out and got round tables and padded chairs and got rid of most of the 8' tables and folding chairs.  The jobs that came with the facility were not really money makers - the kind of people who book the kind of hall it was before are doing it "on the cheap".  We were able to get some of them to spend a bit more than they would have, but we honored the contracts they signed and they were mostly "break even" jobs, but they did keep a little cash flowing while we built a calendar.  I got Mom to raise her prices, though not as much as we should have. 

At some point around this time, a local magazine did an article about the business and Mom and used this awesome picture:

This is the photo we used for her obit - I think you can feel how much she loved the job in this photo!  It was taken at the original location.  I'll try to find the article and insert it here...

Over the next few years, we pumped every bit of extra money into the new place.  Expanded the kitchen and put in a commercial dishwasher, more commercial refrigeration, ovens, commercial stove, lots of shelving and stainless work tables.  Decorated - created an opulent atmosphere that would appeal to brides.  Put in a wood dance floor.  Opened up one end that was storage space to create a buffet room we could open at dinner time and close off for cleanup.  Fixed up the restrooms. Mom was working more than ever and seemed to thrive on it.  Imagine cooking for TWO weddings, baking and decorating cakes for TWO weddings!  On my end, I was doing all the room setup - moving tables and chairs into place; putting on tablecloths; folding napkins and setting them out; putting silverware on the tables; putting centerpieces on each table in the bride's colors.  I took care of the bar, keeping it stocked and having it ready for each function, then I usually had a bartender that came in and assisted me with the bartending duties.  And I handled all the bookkeeping duties as well.  Even with all this, I was not working as many hours as Mom was.  This was her dream job and she loved it!  

In 1996, Wes and Sally moved to Indianapolis.  Her family was from there and he explained that her mother had been diagnosed with bone cancer and Sally needed to be close during this time.  I was sad that they were leaving Omaha, but of course I could understand wanting to be close to my mom, especially if she was having health issues.  He didn't say it exactly like this, but I got the impression that he thought they would return to Omaha once her mother passed. But we never really heard much more about the bone cancer, and they never did return to Omaha.  And Wes never said anything again that made me think they might.  600 miles was a long distance between us, especially with having a business to run.  Mom and Merry visited at least once a year, but I didn't get out there much - only a handful of times over the 17 years he was there.  How I wish I had gone more, but Mom and I really couldn't go at the same time with the business, so it meant traveling alone.  Traveling is not my forte anyway, but alone?  I wish I'd been more brave about it...  Thankfully, Wes came home at least once a year, sometimes with Sally, sometimes by himself.

I think it was in 1997 that Mom divorced Herb. That was the year she moved into the condo right up the street from the original Karen's Fireside.  The divorce could have been ugly - Herb was the type that might try to take half the business, but a couple years before that, Mom had discovered that Herb's accountant had taken Mom's pay into FICA and applied it to Herb's account. Herb had never shown any kind of profit in his business, so he really hadn't paid into FICA over the years, and I think they didn't think Mom would ever figure it out.  But she noticed when she got that statement everyone gets yearly for the SS administration that there was nothing added that year.  Oh, she was furious!  So she threatened to report him and his accountant for doing that if he tried to mess with her business.  And it worked. 

Within a year or so of moving into the condo, she got two kitties - sisters.  One was a long-hair calico who she simply called "Calico", and the other was a grey tiger kitty - surprise, "Tiger"!  And they were wonderful companions!  Such sweet girls!  They developed their habits - when Mom would settle down for a chair nap, Calico would take up her spot on Mom's lap, and Tiger would settle in on her legs.  The signal would be when she put the afghan made by Vera, Herb's mom, on her lap and up they would come!  At night, Calico would paw at the bedding and Mom would lift the covers.  She would go under the covers, but only for a few minutes.  Pretty soon, she would make her way out and into a spot next to Mom for the night.

In 1998, her landlord told her he was not renewing her lease at the original location.  They wanted to use the space for their own business.  So she started to look for another location.  After doing some looking, I think it occurred to her that she was 57 years old and how much longer did she want to work this hard? By this time, I had pushed her enough that our prices were more in line with our competitors... we were still cheaper, mind you, but we were making money.  Looking at our P&L, you might not think so, but we were pumping everything we made back into improvements, so there really were profits there. So Mom and I sat down for a serious talk.  It wasn't about money, like you might expect.  It was about how it would affect our relationship if we worked under the same roof every day.  We were best friends and I think she was a little afraid that it would spoil that if we worked that closely together.  I told her that I didn't think anything could ever come between us and I was confident it would not hurt our relationship, and in fact I would love nothing more than to spend more time together!  In the back of my mind, I did have a tiny reservation, because I know we're both perfectionists and control freaks, but I had an overall good feeling about it.  And I liked the idea that this might take some of the burden of two locations off of her.

So in 1999, we closed the original location and we started working together at the Papillion location.  And it went very well.  Our jobs really didn't overlap, so she was the perfectionist cook and I was the perfectionist "set-up artist". I was a bit concerned that going back to one location might make it hard to support both of us, but it was fine.  There were lean years and our pay went up and down according to the kind of year we were having.  Of course, if I had stayed put, I would have probably been making a lot more money and I would have had benefits, but I don't regret a moment of getting to work with my Mom and the great relationships I developed with the people that worked for us over the years.  It was truly a blessing!

Within a couple years, Mom added my name to the deed on the building.  This was my reward for working so hard, the variable salary (some years living quite lean), bringing the business acumen I had learned to advance the business into more profitability, my work to market on the internet (something I had to drag her kicking and screaming into accepting!)  I don't mean to imply that Mom ever got nasty over changes.  She was just resistant to change, afraid it would have a negative affect.  Like prices - she thought people would be chased off by higher prices.  It took some convincing that a lot of people (I'm like this) are as wary of the low priced vendor (contractor, whatever) as they are about the high priced one.  I always wonder, how can they do it that cheap?  Is it a case of "you get what you pay for"?  I always look for the vendor (contractor, whatever) who is in the middle.  So I researched our competitors and we raised our prices to be just a BIT below the average, which was not an insignificant increase. And it did not chase anyone away! And each year after that point, we would evaluate costs and up our prices accordingly.  This made for a great selling tool:  "You are booking your event today, at today's prices which we are locking in.   By the time your event rolls around, it's likely we will have an increase in costs because everything goes up, but you will have the old pricing!" 

It was all going well.  We didn't have any conflicts and seemed to agree on pretty much everything.  We did a lot of brainstorming about marketing, ways to improve efficiency, ways to spend our profits with updates or replacing equipment, decor, improvements... things that we did over the years like resealing the parking lot, roof maintenance, replacing old 2x4 yellowed ceiling tiles with more modern and bright tiles and grid.  At one point, we replaced our several commercial refrigerators with one big walk-in cooler - that was a big and smart investment!  All of this stuff made the property more valuable for the day we would sell it...  Life was good.

In 2001, we planned a 60th birthday party for Mom.  It wasn't a surprise party, mind you - Mom wanted a party and wanted to be a big part of the planning and ave a say on who to invite.   And she wanted to plan the menu and cook herself.  So we went all out and invited all the important friends and family.  Aunt Judy said she couldn't get away, but was her sounding board as she made plans.  But she called me and said she WOULD be there, but it was to be a surprise!  So we made plans for her to come in and stay with Merry that first night.  By this time, Wes was working PT in health care at a hospital and he told Mom they wouldn't let him off that day.  But he was going to be a surprise as well.  He and Sally drove in the day before and stayed with us.  The night of the party, we surreptitiously brought Aunt Judy in while Mom was busy cooking.  We sat her at the bar with her back to the kitchen and just waited for Mom to poke her head out at some point.  Of course, this was before any of the guests had arrived - it was Mom and I and a couple helpers in the kitchen, I think Merry and Rick were there (since they had to bring her up from Plattsmouth) and I think Dawn, my bartender, was there as well.  At some point, Mom finally came out to the bar (probably to get a drink!) and noticed the "unaccounted for" person sitting at the bar with her back to her.  Walked around the bar and Aunt Judy turned and Mom about fainted!  We got away with it!  She was totally surprised and excited.  We knew that Aunt Judy showing up might make her suspect that Wes might be there as well, so about half an hour later, just as guests were arriving, Wes called from his cell.  He told her he was at work and had a break, wanted to call figuring things would be starting soon and wanted to make sure he wished her a happy birthday and to tell her to have a great time tonight, and to please call him in the morning and give him all the details.  The phone was at the end of the bar, right outside the kitchen and as they were talking, Mom telling him about the surprise of Aunt Judy being there, he came in through the back and the kitchen and came up behind her as she was talking.  Tapped her on the shoulder and she turned and dropped the phone!  It was awesome!  In addition to Wes and Aunt Judy, Mom got Aunt Mary to come from Indiana.  I can't really remember the details, but if I remember correctly, one of her grandchildren drove her here.  I'm sure this was probably the last real trip she ever took - she was in her 80's and not in great health.  But it was such a blessing for Mom to have her here...This night was probably one of the best nights of Mom's life! From the party, Merry (left), Sandy (Mom's BFF, middle), Mom...

In 2004, Dad died.  Of course, they hadn't been married for 30 years, but it was still a shock.  Our cousin, Larry (Aunt Caroline's son) lived in Grandma and Grandpa's old house, which was about a mile or so from Dad's.  Larry and Dad were a lot alike, living about as close as one can get to "off the grid".  They were both (for the most part) hermits, living in (by this time) broken down old homes with very few amenities.  I don't really know much about the condition of my grandparent's home by then, but I bet it was no better than Dad's which had no functional toilet or shower and was not being maintained to any degree whatsoever.  And since Larry was about the only person Dad ever saw, it was he who discovered Dad's body on his kitchen floor probably a week or more after he died.  When he called me to tell me this, it was apparent he was traumatized by the discovery.  I'm sure it was not pretty - they did not want to do an autopsy, or maybe his condition by then made it impossible to figure out cause of death, but they just assumed I think it was his heart.  Mom, Wes, Merry and I went to his house to try to find any relevant paperwork, like life insurance or a will.  The reality of how he was living actually made it a relief to know he was done with this life.  His living conditions were devastatingly deplorable, too sad to go into here where I'm trying to celebrate Mom's life... A story for another time.

In 2005, Mom was in her mid-60's and I think she was starting the think more about where she wanted to be as she ages and started looking for a home closer to me.  She found one right down the street, just 2-1/2 blocks away, and put a bid in on it.  It was very similar to our home, a 2 bedroom bungalow with bathroom in between the bedrooms.  Well maintained oak woodwork in living room and dining room.  A fireplace in the living room, kitchen was probably updated in the 70s or 80s, but the bathroom seemed to be the original with the exception of the vanity/sink.  Within a year or so, Mark and some of his buddies in construction added a bathroom downstairs with a shower.  I loved having her so close - not that we spent much more time together than before, but it was just comforting to know in a couple minutes, I could be there...

That same year was hurricane Katrina.  Mom had not yet sold her condo - it wasn't the crazy market it is today and it was costing her several hundred dollars a month to maintain a "bridge loan" and keep the utilities on.  When Katrina hit and so many people were displaced, Mom offered her condo through an organization that was finding temporary shelter for those displaced.  She ended up with a few teachers from a college down there - I think there were 4 of them if I remember correctly.  Her condo had two bedrooms - one very large one and one small one.  They lived there rent-free for a few months until they were able to return to New Orleans and Mom figured that kind gesture cost her around 10 grand... But at least they were grateful and took good care of the place.  She sold it not long after they moved home.

In 2007, my husband Mark had a blockage in a vein behind his left knee that ultimately resulted in the amputation of his left foot, halfway between his knee and foot.  He was diagnosed with a disease called Buerger's disease, which is caused by smoking and causes inflammation and blockage of the blood vessels in the extremities. He was told if he quit smoking, the disease process would halt, but if he kept smoking, he would eventually very likely lose other parts to amputation.  So he quit smoking and the reason I bring this story up is because Mom stopped smoking (again) at the same time in support of him.  Once Mark went back to work in the fall of 2007, I started to suspect that he was smoking and eventually, I found proof of it, though I said nothing hoping that if he was having to "sneak around" to smoke, it would limit how much he smoked.  After about 6 month, I walked in on him smoking so I couldn't pretend anymore, so I made it clear that he could no longer smoke in the house and that was a deal-breaker.  I hoped that this would limit how much he could smoke...

In June of 2008, I found out Mom was also smoking - it was late June and we had a really bad wind storm with a LOT of damage around the city.  I was on the other side of town when it blew through and it was 5:00 (rush hour) and I headed home.  Every single traffic light was not functioning, so what usually takes 15 minutes took me nearly 2 hours.  And when I got into neighborhoods with trees, it was like a war zone with trees down everywhere!  I stopped at Mom's on the way home and she didn't answer the side door, so I figured maybe she had the TV on loud, so went around to knock on the front door and she was sitting on the front porch smoking. I quietly backed away and went home, thinking if she didn't know I knew, at least she wouldn't smoke during the hours we were at work together.  Again, limiting how much a little bit.  I have no idea how long she had been smoking, but I was sad she'd started up again.  Of course, it wasn't long before I "caught" her (like Mark) and once the cat was out of the bag, she went back to smoking more.  I do think she tried to cut down and didn't smoke as much as she once did, but it was still a part of her life...

Around that same time (2008), Mom started to express her wish to retire.  She was approaching 70 and had worked her butt off for many years. I wasn't really ready to find something new to do, but I didn't want to do what we were doing without her.  And even if I did, for her to enjoy her retirement, I would need to "buy out" her half, and I didn't want to go into that kind of debt at my age, especially since this was not MY calling, it was hers... So Mom trained Amanda, her kitchen helper, to cook exactly like Mom cooked.  Since our food was our signature, it had to be as good as Mom's.  She spent 2 full years training Amanda before she let the cooking go completely, and over that 2 years, she backed off on how much she was doing, but I continued to pay her the same.  When she got to the point of "letting go" of the cooking part, she would come in just before an event started, make sure everything was going smoothly, make an appearance and then go home.  So instead of working a 10 or 12 hour day, she would work maybe 4 hours on the day of a function.  She would typically come in on Tuesdays to place her order with our food service rep, so 4 or so hours that day as well.  So she was usually working less than 10 hours a week.  That kept her satisfied for some time.

Going back for some background, some time after Wes and Sally moved to Indianapolis, Wes was diagnosed with mesothelioma.  This was a little different than the typical diagnosis, which is usually found in the lungs.  His was found in his abdomen.  Of course, nothing was every "typical" with Wes!  And they "kept an eye" on it... it seemed to be dormant, not changing.  Also atypical.  But in 2012, about a dozen years later, they found some in his lung.  And that is when it typically takes hold and most die within a year or so.  It did progress as they expected and since there is no real treatment, it was just a matter of time.  In late May of 2013, it seemed the end was near and Mom decided to go stay with Wes and Sally to help take care of Wes so Sally could continue to work.  Her intent was to be there to the end, so I was back here running the business.  The fact that she had trained Amanda to essentially be her... well, it's a darn good thing she did that because I don't think there's any way I could have taken over her cooking duties AND do everything else I was doing.  And even if I could swing it, I couldn't have done the kind of job Mom did.  So it was a blessing and we were able to run smoothly while she was gone.

I had a week with no weddings in June (unusual) so I made a trip out for a visit, assuming it would probably be my last.  He was so thin and weak, but I tried to keep it upbeat.  Merry came out, too - I think we were there at the same time in June, or we at least had a couple days of overlap.  We had another dead weekend in August, and we told Wes that we'd come out again in August to see him.  Of course, none of us thought he would make it to August, but it seemed to give him some joy thinking we would come.  But we were all surprised when he was still fighting in August and we made the trek.  Merry went out first, then I went out. I was there about a week and it was so terribly sad.  He couldn't have weight a hundred pounds and looked like skin pulled over a skeleton.  11 years later, it still brings tears just thinking about how weak and tired he was.  I would have considered staying a few more days if we hadn't had another wedding coming because I knew the end was very close.  And I would have liked to have been there for Mom when he finally went... But I couldn't and Sally's parents drove me to the airport. I got on that plane fully expecting to hear upon landing that Wes had passed, but when I called, he was still hanging in there.

The next day, I was on my way home from a showing at work.  It was about 5:00 and Mom called to say Wes had just passed.  Wes was the very first person in my life to die and I really didn't know what to expect.  The one emotion I did not expect was relief.  No one talks about that.  When someone is suffering terribly, and you want to be strong for them or for the people around them, you stuff your sadness and your "why him" anger and your frustration with feeling helpless.  So the first thing I felt was relief and utter sadness.  Relief that he was finally free from that body that had tormented him for over 30 years.  He was 52.  With that awful disease that laid waste to his body for so many ways, I was convinced he wouldn't make it to 40, so I felt blessed to have the extra years.  Our favorite photo of Wes:

What Mom thought would be two or three weeks turned into three months.  And it was a difficult three months.  She was strong for and held it together to be there to help Sally, to take some of the pressure off of her in taking care of Wes.  She cooked and did what she could around the house, the things that Wes did before he got sick.  And she watched her only son fade away ever-so-slowly.  He really hung on and gave it the good fight.  And on that hot summer Monday, August 26, Mom was with Wes as he took his last breath.  His brother-in-law, Leo, was also there.  Sally was with the rest of her family on their deck.  Mom was not particularly happy with the way Sally was handling those final hours, as if she couldn't handle this last bit of Wes' journey.  Everyone handles this stuff differently, I'm sure, but Sally was a little freaked out and didn't want to go anywhere near Wes once he was gone.  So Mom and Leo stayed close until the folks from hospice came and got Wes' body.  Mom always kept her emotions pretty close to the vest about this process, but I have a feeling she had many moments of unbridled sorrow when she was alone.  I can't imagine how hard it would be to lose a child... surely this is no harder loss. As soon as Wes passed, she was ready to come home and Brian flew to Indy to drive her home in Wes's truck.  Sidenote: we, as the business, bought his truck to use for deliveries... it gave him some closure and peace that Sally got a fair amount for it. We never did use it very much and eventually, we sold it to Merry and Rick and they used it for a few years as well...

They had a service for Wes out there in Indy, but Mom didn't stay for it.  I'm sure she was anxious to get home for many reasons.  There were things that Sally did that just didn't set well with Mom.  For example, she called around and got pricing on cremation and other end life necessities - and not discreetly.  I think this dismayed Wes, which had to have hurt Mom to the core.  And she would go off to her usual activities, like knitting groups when Mom felt she should be wanting to spend every last possible minute with Wes.  She didn't want to "burn up" her PTO... things like that probably had Mom enraged internally, and I bet she just wanted to get the hell away.  She never really expressed any rage about this, but she eluded to some of these things over time and the totality of it all... well, if it was me there instead of Mom, I know I would have had a lot of pent up rage by the time it was done.  And Mom has always been the kind of person that needs alone time - she and I are a lot alike that way.  I think she could not get back home to her space and solitude fast enough.

When she was away for those three months, I went to her house every day and brought in the mail.  Switched out lights to leave on.  And I spent an hour with her kitties.  By now they were about 15 years old.  Within a month, Calico started to lose weight.  It's been long enough ago that I don't remember a lot of detail - I remember going to the vet, but I can't remember much else.  But in the end, I had to have her put to sleep a few weeks before Mom came home.  So much loss...600 miles away and she loses her cat while her son in dying.  Looking back, I don't know how she got through it. Tiger held out another year and a half or so before it was her time.

In 2015, we had an wedding with a woman I can only describe as a "Momzilla".  Mother of the bride was mad because we had an event on Friday that prevented her from putting out the centerpieces herself and she spent the entire evening being a hateful bitch toward me and stirring up all kinds of trouble with her guests. Mind you, I put out the centerpieces myself, doing so exactly as she wanted down to the minutest detail.  I had a photo she gave me - I remember it was a bowl of beautiful flowers on a mirror with some rock gems and 3 petals on the mirrors.  But because she couldn't do it herself, afterwards it was her mission to destroy our business by writing reviews everywhere that accepted reviews, and they were full of lies about how the evening went.  This was the experience that "broke the camel's back" for me and now I was ready to be done with the business.  

We hired a broker to sell the business and building, signed a 6 month contract... and nothing happened.  I think he brought one potential buyer in and that was it.  When the 6 months was up, we hired a different broker, and this time we needed a real estate agent for the property.  They worked together and within a short time, we had a buyer.  We closed on both the first of July, 2016 and Mom was now officially retired!!

Mom sold her house in 2017.  She'd been there about 12 years and she was slowing down.  I think she figured she had lived close to me for these years and since Merry & Rick had often told her she was welcome to come live with them that it would be a good time to take them up on that.  She stored some of her furniture in case she eventually moved to a place of her own, got rid of the vast majority of the kinds of things we have but can live without and moved into Merry's.  Mom had spent her whole life busy - first raising kids, then working and building a career and then building a business from scratch.  She really didn't have a hobby per se, though she had a lot of interests, like reading and playing games.  But these are things that don't require much movement or energy.  I think Merry hoped that Mom might integrate with her busy life - help with gardening, canning, cooking, maybe light cleaning.  But Mom, I think, was just tired.  She didn't really want to do much of anything that required physical effort. She was winding down.  

Mom went to spend some of the winter with Aunt Judy in Tucson and when she got back, Merry had found a place for Mom to consider moving to.  I wasn't part of these conversations, so I only know what Mom told me because for me, it was out of the blue.  Mom said that she thought Merry was disappointed that she wasn't more active and that she supposed a lot of it had to do with her smoking.  She didn't smoke in the house, mind you, but Merry complained that Mom's coat that hung in the coat closet stunk up the whole closet and you could smell it in the hallway.  Whatever the reason, Mom got the hint and got on a waiting list for this low-income high rise in Plattsmouth.  When a unit came available, and we started planning her move, I wanted to see the place so we could plan for what she could keep and where it would go.  When we went, I have to admit I was... I know Merry is going to hate hearing this when she reads this... but I was very disappointed.  This building felt institutional - long halls with cement block walls and tile floors.  The apartment itself felt cold and tiny - more tile floors, a single window in the living area and a little one in the bedroom. Barely a kitchenette at one end of the living area.  My first thought was "My Mom deserves better than this!"  But she seemed to be ok with it and I kept my mouth shut.  But I really did wonder why Mom thought she should be living in low-income housing.  She had enough money to rent a nice apartment.  I know the size was kind of part of what she DID like about it and it might be hard to find one that small (about 400 sf I think), but I would have been willing to hire someone to help her take care of one a little larger.  

But I have to admit that once she got all her stuff in there and a rug in the living area, it did feel more homey.  And she seemed happy there.  She made lots of friends (as she continued to be the social butterfly!) It turned out to be a good thing for her as she participated in activities like bingo, playing cards, hanging with other residents.  She made a few very good friends.  And I came down once a week to take her to lunch and hung out with her as much as I could.

In the fall of 2018, I had my left hip replaced and I spent a couple nights with Mom, mostly because I knew Mark wouldn't be very helpful and I figured her little place meant everything was very accessible for those first couple days.  And Mom was close in case I needed help, whereas Mark sleeps in the basement and getting help would be like pulling teeth!  But it gave me a good feel for her daily routine and she was doing well there.

2019 was a rough year.  Mark was diagnosed with bladder cancer (another consequence of smoking) and had to have his bladder removed.  As he was healing from that, he suddenly started losing weight and he didn't seem to want to eat.  It turned out he gall bladder stones, so they removed his gall bladder.  Coincidentally, Mom had been having periodic pain that turned out to be her gall bladder as well.  It came to head that summer in an extraordinarily painful night and she had Merry take her to the ER in Bellevue where they admitted her for pancreatitis.  It sounded like that was caused by the gall stones, or the two were somehow connected.  They had to get the pancreatitis under control first.  But in the process of doing an ultrasound to look at the gall bladder, they saw that she had an aortic aneurysm.  So now the plan was 1) get the pancreatitis under control; 2) fix the aortic aneurysm; 3) a couple months after that, remove the gall bladder.  Which meant being very careful what she ate until the gall bladder was out.  However, while she was in the hospital, her blood pressure suddenly raged out of control, so now they had to deal with that as well.  They never said this, but looking back, I think the high blood pressure could have caused her aneurysm to blow out, so that was a real priority.  So they had all these different doctors messing with her meds, and some weren't even agreeing about what she needed.  These doctors contradicting each other was not conducive to bringing her BP down!

Mom had never really been sick - I mean, here she was, in her late 70s and up until this, she took a pill for blood pressure, and this only because she'd had some dental work done a few years before and it was a little high.  She was good at avoiding doctors!  So this hospital stay, which was almost a week, was just infuriating for her.  It was all we could do to keep her from checking out against doctors advice!  But within a few months, it was all done - BP under control, aneurysm fixed, gall bladder out.

Unfortunately, Mom was in that small percentage of people who have a real issue with unpredictable diarrhea and now this was ruling her life.  She had to plan anything around taking anti-diarrheals and waiting to see if they would work.  At some point, Merry did some research and found a cholesterol medication that had one major side effect - constipation.  And since her doctor had been trying to get her to take a statin anyway, she got a prescription and it did seem to work most of the time!  So life improved.

Of course, 2020 was covid, which screwed with us all.  We went months without seeing each other out of caution.  We got the vaccine - neither Mom nor I ever participated in any of the vaccines they insist seniors need, but they put the fear of God in us and I didn't want to be the one to kill my Mom with covid, so we all got vaccinated and stayed away from each other for several months.  Until it got to the point that so many of us said, you know what?  Life isn't life without physical contact with the people I love.  So we cautiously started to get together again.  But I seem to recall that we didn't have Thanksgiving in 2020 because it just felt too risky to have a large group of people together.  It being Mom's favorite holiday - it was torture!  

As 2021 came in, Mark had something going on with his left hand.  It wasn't working right.  Had he had a stroke?  Over the next few months, it went from a not-quite-working hand to his whole left arm being like a limp rag.  And he was losing weight again. I won't get into all the details since this is really Mom's story, but Mark ended up having surgery on his right carotid artery in the spring, then a surgery to fix a hernia in July, after which he went into a nursing home and passed on Labor Day that year.  When he went into the home, I knew in my heart that he wouldn't be coming home, so I started working on the house in hopes of having Mom come live with me when I got it "up to snuff".  We had put a lot of stuff off for a long time that really needed to be dealt with. I didn't really know how to ask her, because I didn't want her to feel obligated to come because I needed her.  I hoped that she wanted to come live with me.  So I just worked on the house and waited to say anything, and around Jan. of 2022, the place where she was living was going to rip out and put in a new parking lot.  Which meant residents had to park elsewhere, like across the street and down about half a block.  Most of these people were elderly like Mom, some disabled.  So Mom asked if she could stay with me for "a couple weeks" while they did that.  Perfect!  I think it was the end of March when she came to stay, and we started to talk about her "coming back for good" when he lease was up in July.  Well, she never left because the parking lot turned into a drawn out process that wasn't completely done even in July when her lease was up! 

When she came here, she gave her my bed and I just slept in my chair.  I thought, just a couple weeks, no biggy.  I spend MOST of every night (at least half) in the chair anyway... Well, I finally breached the subject of how I envisioned it when she moved in.  Mom was a night owl, and I'm an early bird.  She can be up half the night playing games or watching TV and she likes to sleep until mid-morning.  I'm up with the sun and want to bop around, watching TV, watering plants, listening to music... Of course, since she'd been here, she was going to bed at 10:00 when I go, and made an effort to get up earlier.  So my thought was this... she has her bedroom, her space, in the lady cave, where she can stay up as late as she wants and sleep in every day.  I can get up and not have to worry about disturbing her.  I was a little worried that she might think I didn't want her up here with me, but I was just trying to make it so she wouldn't feel it necessary to change her routine for me.  And it would give her more privacy and sense of having her own space.  The bigger bathroom is down there.  I had a little heater to help keep the space warmer and told her she could run it 24/7 if she wanted. And I had the stair lift I'd put in for Mark (that he only used once!) that she could use if she needed to.  And she always did - I think by this time, Mom had given up on ever gaining back strength and didn't even attempt the stairs, either up or down.  

So in May, we both ordered new beds and had them delivered, so I got my bed back and she started sleeping in the lady cave, even though we hadn't yet moved her furniture here.  We started to plan how to arrange it and plan the move.  Got rid of anything she didn't need to bring here, which was pretty much everything except her bedroom furniture and a few of her cherished belongings, jewelry, food... that kind of thing. And she was officially moved in by July 1st.  

I was still catching up on things that needed to be done around the house. I was working on the last room in the basement.  I had my living room and dining room painted.  I put up Mom’s special painting when we got that done, and I had put a couple of her favorite things from Wes up – a framed photo in the entryway and one of his copper etchings in the kitchen. All of that still remains…

Life was good and I was really enjoying having Mom here, but she just wasn’t her old self.  I could tell she was really winding down and just tried to do as much as I could for her.  As fall approached, she started have more issues with the diarrhea again – the cholesterol drug didn’t seem to be helping as much.  And she just wasn’t feeling well in general.  She would decline going to family get togethers – she missed Will’s birthday.  If I remember correctly, I think she did come to Thanksgiving, but I could tell it was a huge drain on her and she just didn’t seem to enjoy it.  That was a BIG indicator because Thanksgiving has always been very important to her.

Merry and I convinced her to see the doctor, so I took her to my PA to air her complaints and see if there was something they could do to improve her wellbeing.  They gave her a chest xray and saw a spot that they wanted to biopsy.  They said it could simply be some scar tissue or thickening from a previous infection, or possibly even an active infection.  She didn’t want to do that.  But she did agree to see a gastro doc to hopefully improve the diarrhea problem.  And that’s what led to the discovery of anal cancer, which prompted a visit to an oncologist. 

And this is where I’m going to stop the story because the rest is too sad and hard to tell.  I’ll just say that a few months later, on April 25, 2023 (two days after her 82^nd birthday), Mom passed away after a few days of being unconscious.  Merry had been here for several days, but needed to get back to their business (since this was their busiest time of year).  She passed in the night and I found her in the morning.  The grief was overwhelming for about 5 minutes, and then I held her hand and said, “Congrats, Mom, you made it!  I’m so happy you’re free of this worn out body and whole again.”  And then I called Merry and then the hospice folks.

It just seems so unfair that such a beloved soul, someone who was "mom" to more than just her bio kids, who was a friend like no other, had to take such a hard way out.  I know we can't understand these things in this life, and by the time I get there it probably won't matter.  But one thing is for sure - she is watching over those of us who she loved and who loved her and that is very comforting.

If I figure out how, I think I'll try to create a slideshow at some point...