My Mom

Tomorrow, April 19, would have been my moms 83rd birthday. She was the fourth of ten kids. Nine girls and one boy. Bet you can't guess who was spoiled the most!

Three years ago when she turned 80 we celebrated at the Nursing Home in Attica. If I remember correctly, all of her siblings were there except the youngest, Sue. It was a fun day. It is always interesting for me when the older generation start telling stories. You never know what you will hear. I have always thought that those stories are very important. I have also learned that it is very important to document these stories when you have the chance.

Mom was always a simple person. When I say this I mean she didn't need a lot to be happy. Of course, she liked nice things and always wanted her house to be clean and tidy, but when you would ask what she needed, she would answer "I have everything I need." When mom and dad were moving to the Nursing Home, Mom knew what would go with them and what would stay at the house in Medicine Lodge and what would go with us kids. She had several quilts that went to Attica. One on the wall and one on the bed. They had a picture of Jesus that hung on the wall at home as long as I can remember. It went with them. There was a book case that Dad made for his Mom. It went with them. Moms white cabinet from the kitchen went with them. Several items had to stay in Medicine Lodge. And several things came to my house. One was Moms 'birdcage'. This was a curved glass cabinet she had bought several years ago. She had always said that was to be Hannahs. It now sits in our living room.

But, in the long run, these are just material items. They have some value, but not like the value of the memories we all cherish. I remember mom and dad coming and working on our house. One time they were sanding drywall in what is now Madison's room. Mom slipped and fell off of a stepstool. The ambulance came, she was placed on a gurney and wheeled outside. Susan and I practically had to pry Dad away from the drywall so we could go to the hospital in Dodge City. The next day Mom was on crutches walking outside, when a neighbor stopped by. It turned out he knew my Uncle John and had worked with him. More stories to be heard.

Those other material things? The picture of Jesus and Dads bookcase? They are at my house now. And, hopefully, someday they will go to my kids homes. Because they are memories not to be forgotten.

I love you, Mom. Tell Dad I love him. I think about you a lot. I miss you. But, I will see you again. Ivan