Reminders

Once in awhile, purely by chance, I will see an older man or woman who remind me of my father or mother.

This past week, it happened again.  Bill and I stopped at our local for drinks after work.  We were chatting and I looked up to see a woman about my Mom's age eating at a booth across the room.  It wasn't that she looked closely like my Mom (although she did, somewhat); it was more about her demeanor, how she glanced, and her eyes.  I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion I didn't realize was so close to the surface. I looked away immediately so as not to make eye contact, not to mention it was uncomfortable.  At this point it still hadn't dawned on me why it had hit me so hard.

My Mom (2001)

As  Bill and I continued to talk about our day, I would every-so-often look up towards the woman.  It eventually dawned on me where the emotion was coming from and why.  Another wave of emotion flooded my body and this time my eyes fought back tears. My internal dialogue went something like, "Mom, I wish so much you were here.  I miss you far more than I ever realized I would.  I remember you talking to me many times over the years about how you missed Grandpa, then later your own Mom, Grandma.  I thought I understood then.  I had no clue.  But I do now..."

I don't think missing my parents will ever go away.  But then, I don't want it to.

Passing of an Era

My dear aunt, Aunt Pat, has died.

I deeply loved Aunt Pat and Uncle John, having spent many a weekend with them either in St. Vincent or Bemidji, and later on a bit in New Mexico. My memories will always be of a smart, capable, FUN lady who was warm and loving in her own unique way. She was an inspiration to me of living life to the fullest - friends and good times - what else is there?

Memorial in Fabric

Each morning, gran would bring out the over-size sketchbooks and we would sit in the garden perfecting our drawings for the end-of-summer show, which was expertly modeled by a melange of trendy dolls. Once our designs were ready for production, we would spread newsprint on the cutting tables and gran would instruct me on garment construction. When we eventually stitched the outfits together, the quest for the perfect trims and buttons would ensue. This was my favorite part of the process, as Gran would permit me to search endlessly through the drawers and drawers of beads, trims, sequins, pearls, ribbons, feathers and buttons...

Read Catherine's entire remembrance of her summers spent with her great grandmother, immersed in the world of fashion.

Now this, is aging gracefully...

Harriet's Wake

Going Along

Mom can't see real well anymore so often brings an empty fork to her mouth so isn't getting any food. So the past 4 days I have been going to the nursing home to feed her at lunch time so she at least gets one good meal.

Every day is a new experience. Yesterday it was about people in the past. We talked of her husbands. She had no memory of being married and asked me how many times had she been married. I told her 3. My Dad (John Beaudette), Howard Krouth, and Norman Smith. She then asked me which one had she married first. I told her my Dad John. I asked her if she had any memory of John at all and she said no I don't remember any of them I just remember a tall, thin, frail man.

Today we were "at" J.C. Penney's the whole 1 1/2 hrs I was with her. She was office manager at Penney's for 20 yrs. She told me today that tomorrow she had some work to do. I said Oh what is that. She said she had to fire one gal because she didn't trust her and she was going to have to start cleaning house and getting rid of a few people and she hated that job. I just said yes it is hard to have to fire people. She said the gal she had to fire was destitute and had advertised in the paper that she was starving so she felt sorry for her and hired her but guessed she would have to go back on welfare as she just didn't trust her. I have finally learned to just go along with anything she says now instead of trying to bring her back to reality. Every day she asks me if her Mom is alive and I do tell her no she is dead or else Mom would wonder why she never comes to see her. The other day she asked me about Johnny and I told her he had died of cancer and she said then, well no wonder he never comes to see me. She has no idea she is in the nursing home nor how long she has been there she thinks she is in the hospital healing up from a fall she had. It is so hard seeing my Mom like this and I often don't go see her for a week or more but am trying to go more to at least see that she eats.

Bad Day

Mom had a very bad day Thursday, July 5th. The nursing home called me as they couldn't calm her down. She insisted an operator had called her from Grand Forks and told her someone in the family was trying to get ahold of her as her brother had been in an accident and that she had been trying all day to call someone but they evidently had cut off her long distance service. I tried to tell her on the phone that her brother has been gone 53 years but she insisted he had been in an accident and she had to get ahold of someone to find out how bad it was. So I went to the nursing home and spent 3 hrs. with her trying to calm her and tell her there is no one left to call her as they have all passed away. But she insisted she had called her Mom several times that day.

When I convinced her, her brother John died 53 years ago of drowning her come back was "I wonder if Mom knows about it I better call her and tell her."

So had to tell her over and over that her Mom too was dead and she almost started to cry when I told her that. Then later in her room she saw her Mom laying beside her. It was a very rough day for her and for me.

A Walk in the Rain

Arrangements were made for the cremation. This morning it took place. Christopher and I met Tom at Riverside's crematorium at 8:30am.

We met the two men who do the cremations. We watched as the box with Mom's remains was taken and placed in the furnace. I thanked the men, and Tom, and we walked away.

It was gently raining, and as we approached the car to leave, I asked Chris if he'd mind taking a walk through the cemetery. We got our umbrellas, and proceeded.

I don't often have a chance to walk through a cemetery when it's raining. No wind, so amazingly quiet, peaceful, and empty...except, of course, for the silent city around us.

The huge, old trees throughout the cemetery made me think of home, the home my mother lived in most of her life. It, too, had great old trees surrounding it. There's something amazing about trees, and seeing such trees gave me comfort as I glanced back at the crematorium and saw the waves of heat rising out of the chimney on top.

As we walked past the gravestones, we noticed white-tailed deer further on, one standing, and one beyond that was laying down under a tree. Chris took photos as I watched them watch us.

We turned a corner, then another, heading back to the car, when we noticed a small flock of birds in the distance coming out from behind the mausoleum. Wild turkeys, a small band of males. We headed up the small hill and around the building, and caught them as they disappeared behind, shaking their feathers, looking up, and stepping ahead under the falling rain.

It was a magical morning walk, a very special walk I will never forget...

Harriet's Obituary

Harriet Ellen Fitzpatrick Short
March 30, 1922 - June 11, 2007
Harriet Short passed away on Monday, June 11, 2007 at Eventide Nursing Home, Moorhead, Minnesota. She was 85 years old.

Harriet Ellen Fitzpatrick Short was born on March 30, 1922 in St. Vincent, Minnesota. She graduated from Pembina High School in 1940, then worked for Bell Telephone in Bemidji, MN. She was at her switchboard on December 7, 1941 when it lit up with calls; she soon found out it was due to the news of the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor.

She married Gordon Short in February 1943 at the end of his basic training, and too soon said goodbye as he went overseas for two and a half years. After the war, they made a life in St. Vincent, raised three daughters, and retired to New Mexico in 1987, moving there permanently in 1998.

Although Harriet never had the chance at higher education, she was well-read all her life, and an inveterate letter writer to those she cared for. Throughout her life, her love of the written word and for writing itself was passed on to her children and grandchildren. She shared her passion for homemaking not only with her daughters through her amazing skills as a cook and seamstress, but also professionally as a Homemaker for Kittson County Social Services in the late 1970s and early 1980s. In that capacity, she traveled the county helping individuals learn personal finance, housekeeping, and other much-needed skills in many lower-income, rural areas.

Harriet learned from her parents that faith was important, but that asking questions was not wrong. Her intelligence, curiosity, and energy inspired her daughters to work towards their goals. Her pragmatism and Irish dark humor also tempered their own characters as they faced life's challenges. She always said, as her mother before her, that life could be hard; but on the other hand, there was much to be thankful for.

Harriet was preceded in death by her husband Gordon Short, her parents Albert and Elizabeth Fitzpatrick, and three siblings. She is survived by her three daughters, Sharon Hannaford (Darien, Illinois), Betty Thorsvig (Glyndon, Minnesota), and Trish Lewis (Fargo, North Dakota), seven grandchildren, and ten great grandchildren. There will be no public services; family have decided to hold a private Irish wake. Memories and condolences are warmly welcomed, and may be sent either via email or mailed to: Trish Lewis, 107 1/2 Roberts St N Apt 2, Fargo ND 58102.

A Grandson Reflects

Randy is my sister Betty's boy. My first nephew. The first grandchild of my parents.

He has this to say about Mom's passing...

She loved playing cards, any card game you mentioned she played it but one game she could never beat grandpa at was [Liverpool] rummy, NEVER and that pissed her off so much it was knee slapping funny, she would accuse my grandpa of cheating all the time (which he never did except count cards…LOL he told me)...

Well blow me over with a feather, I never knew that! I must admit, that tickles me to read that. He never told her - I admire a man who can keep a secret! And for all those years...! *Laugh* Man, that sure sounds like my Dad...what a character.

I commented on Randy's reflections, saying, "You hit the nails on their heads with all your points, Randy. You WERE paying attention all those years...*laugh*...yep, Grandma could sure get on your nerves sometimes, but man, she was a great person. She loved deep and hard, and as we all do, had her faults. I see now her life in a much better context than when I was growing up, but even then, I knew for whatever reason, despite her ticking me off, I loved her fiercely. There was something amazing about her..."

We're cremating her. We're holding an old-fashioned Irish wake for her. And we're spreading her ashes on Dad's grave and the old homestead. It's the way it should be.

Better Than Ever

I want people to talk to one another no matter what their difference of opinion might be.

A hero of mine, Studs Terkel turns 95 today.

He's publishing his first memoir later this year - now THAT'S when you should publish a memior, after most of a life has been lived!