The First Woman in My Life

My mother passed away on the 16th of April this year after a seven-year battle with cancer. I would like to tell you about her.

She was born into a family full of family problems in the late 1930s. Her mother died when she was four years old, and the five children were split between two grandmothers. Her two older sisters were sent to live with Grandma Catholic. Her two brothers and she were sent to live with Grandma Lutheran. Consequently Mom became and remained a Wisconsin Synod Lutheran for her entire life.

"Grandma Lutheran" was very old when she received the children and she died when my mother was about 13. I cannot imagine what her childhood must have been like, between the dying relatives and alcoholic father as well as other problems that were hinted at but never really stated.

She grew up to become a teacher in the Wisconsin Synod elementary schools, and I imagined her to be the sort of person who would have been an old maid schoolteacher. She taught variations on K-1-2 for 14 years, until she married my father in 1972. Their marriage was unlikely. He was over 40 when they were married and had also taught in the WELS schools, sidestepping a few disasters along the way. She was distrustful of men. I think they met at an apartment warming party that was held for Dad when he moved to the Twin Cities area. I really can't remember the details.

From two homes marred with alcohol and abuse they created one that had infinitely fewer problems. I suspect that it was their sincere faith in Jesus Christ that made this possible. There was no alcohol, no major dysfunction, and a genuine commitment to each other. About year and a half after they were married they had one child. Me. I grew up in an environment empty of children, so actually I did not really believe that I was a child. I was simply the third adult in the house, a little smaller than the other two but definitely part of the decision-making committee. We had our conflicts, but my home was really a refuge from the storm of the outside world. My mother helped make it that way.

She was a woman of great hugs and natural affection. She loved people with her words and with her cooking. Easily scandalized, she struggled somewhat with gossip but it never seemed like gossip because I don't think she intended to hurt anyone. She was very slow to anger and put up with my dad's bizarre ways without much argument. Though she was not stupid as most people would understand the term, she was a simple person who did not have a lot of complicated thoughts or abstractions clouding her mind. If the conversation turned too theoretical, she would wait patiently for about five minutes (much of which I suspect she could barely follow) and then turn it to something about people or practical matters. It was all she could do.

She was a woman of many fears. Driving alone, for example, terrified her. She did not get a driver's license until age 34 (my age now) and directions mystified her. Thinking back, I recall some years that she drove me/other kids to soccer games all across the Cities. Those rides must have been traumatic for her in ways that others would not understand. She would drive alone if she knew the route and the weather was decent. Otherwise she relied on my dad and me for transportation. Dad was always great with maps, directions, and the general how-to of traveling. Mom was not.