Growing Up and Moving Away

My oldest brother Larry, who was ten years my senior, laid the ground rules for what growing up and moving on looked like. He finished high school and went to college. My mother had an empty bedroom in that big house for the first time since she moved in. Marty decided to go to college in Texas, so my parents packed up the car and drove across country to get him settled in. That was the last time Marty lived in the family home, but both boys came home to visit as often as they could. John was a volunteer firefighter and very active. He was in the military and spent some time in Turkey, so he wasn’t around too much. He married and moved with his family to New Jersey, then to the Pacific Northwest. This was now the third child to move on, but this was also her first baby.

My sister and I learned to drive, went to high school and then my sister went to college in Georgia. This was a long way from Pennsylvania and she was very missed. Joanne met her husband in school and began a life in the south. I was still in the area, married my long-time boyfriend and we settled down in the local area.

My parents were happy, doing some traveling and my dad played golf a lot. Mom kept busy with her gardens and she began to learn to quilt by hand. She always has stressed how very important it is to have a hobby. When you get old, she says, “You have to have something interesting to keep your mind and your body active.”

This is one of thirty king-sized quilts that my mother has made, every stitch by hand. Her skill is remarkable!

Mom and Dad enjoyed the three grandchildren that they had so far, with plenty of road trips to see them.  My husband and I had our first baby girl and this was the first grandchild to live right around the corner! They couldn't have been happier! My parents had a wonderful relationship with my daughter, Lindsay, spending time with her and seeing her often. It was a very special relationship that they developed. Both of my daughters still have that special bond with their grandmother today.

My parents were happy to have one of their children in the area and we took advantage of special times together. We had each other over for dinner, and my mother was instrumental in helping me to navigate through those first few weeks of motherhood. I would not have survived without her help.Two years after the birth of my first daughter, my father died suddenly. My mother had gone downstairs to make coffee and start her day and was letting my newly-retired dad sleep in a little. After some time passed, she brought a cup of coffee upstairs to him to wake him. He had passed away quietly and peacefully in his sleep at the age of 63. 

My mother’s life would change forever.

The Life of An Amazing Woman

This blog is about the journey that my siblings and I are on today. We are caring for our aging mother and the changes are happening so fast that it is sometimes hard to keep up. This is a journey that we don’t know how to navigate, but we are learning.

My mother, Annette is 91 years old. She currently still lives in the five-bedroom house that my father had built for us when we moved to the east coast from Seattle. I was the youngest of five kids when we moved.

All of us were raised in this house, playing kick-the-can and camping out in tents in the backyard and playing outside with neighbors until it was too dark to see. My mother has lived a vibrant life there, working as a Registered Nurse for a short time before deciding to stay home and raise 5 kids. We lived a great life because of my parents. My mother was sweet and loving and she lived her life for us. She made delicious meals and baked like nobody else’s mom I know. We spent our summer days at the pool, on the swim team and diving team, and by night fall we had played so hard that our feet were filthy and exhaustion allowed for a solid nights’ sleep. We always had to wash our feet before getting into her clean sheets though!

Annette grew up on a farm in Red Lake Falls, MN with one older sister and 4 younger brothers. She was raised on fresh air, hard work and family. Not having enough money for a nursing education, she wrote to a few different schools to ask if she could join their program where she could work off her tuition. She went to St. Cloud, MN, where she got her degree in nursing. She and some girlfriends moved to Portland to work. They shared an apartment and one of the roommates started dating a doctor. My mother was invited to come along on a double date to accompany the doctors friend, Hans. This is when she met my dad, a very recently widowed father of two little boys, ages 4 and 2. My parents married and she became an instant mother of my two oldest brothers, Larry and Marty, continuing to grow their family with another boy, John, my sister Joanne, and then me.

Life on the east coast was good. The climate was great with all four seasons to enjoy one of her biggest passions, gardening. With just under an acre of land, my mother worked tirelessly digging, planting, and replanting. She structured gardens and found trees to put on this newly developed property that was void of any vegetation. She was in her element, both as a mother and as a gardener. Her talents as a seamstress were amazing and we often wore outfits that she made herself. Many years later, both my sister and I would proudly wear stunning wedding gowns that she made herself. 

A devout Catholic, my mother made sure we were dressed and at church every Sunday. My mother was a disciplinarian when it was needed, but she was a kind and loving woman and our family has been so fortunate that she belongs to us.

Here we are heading to church on Sunday, matching jumpers and all!