Today’s post comes to us from Ben.
When my parents moved out of their house in town and into a senior living place, I wrote this short story. Several years later I found it again, shared it with the family, and one of my sisters commented that I could write another piece and update the situation. Which I did, and filed away. When mom died last week I updated that story.
So here are some stories about my mom.
FEBRUARY 2007
Mom and Dad have finally moved. They decide to move even though the house hadn’t sold yet (maybe due to the cold and snow? Mom says she’s just tired of cleaning the house…) and low and behold the house sold anyway.
So we all met at the house one Saturday a couple weeks ago; 0 degree’s outside… Oldest sister Ellen is here [from Pennsylvania]. Ernie and Joanne decided to rent a moving van, Bob parked his pickup at the back door and started loading stuff from the basement; I loaded my truck after his and Ernie is asking what we rented the big truck for? But then we filled the big truck, and the two pickups and there’s STILL stuff left in the house…geez; where did all this stuff come from?? Didn’t think there was that much stuff?!? They cleaned all summer, threw stuff, and still….
And now the apartment is filled with boxes of … stuff. The pickups fit into the underground parking garage, but not the moving van of course. So Bob and I take turns shuttling our pickups back and forth from the elevator to the moving van to load stuff and drive back to the elevator. And from there it’s one flat cart and two shopping carts to get everything upstairs. And the place is filling up and they don’t have the dining room table or sewing table in the apartment yet. Judy [my aunt] makes lunch for us since she’s in the building too. Eventually they rent a storage closet in the basement and the next Saturday Joanne, Arlen, Kelly and I haul some more stuff from the basement and the deck furniture and shelving and pack the storage closet.
The next week, since it’s Presidents Day and no school [Son] and [daughter] and I meet Dad at the old house and clean out his shop; Steve is taking the table saw; Matt’s getting some odds and ends, and we load my pick up with saws and ….stuff. Dad’s wood jointer / planer and …stuff… and haul it out to the farm. I put the band saw in the garage so Dad can use that; some of the ….junk…down in the old shed, other stuff in the new shed. Then back for one more trip to pick up the real junk, vacuum the shop (with his little dinky shopvac with the 1” hose and no attachments… it was kinda funny / pathetic!) Finally, the only thing left is Mom’s sewing table and the shopvac.
April 2025
Mom’s Moves
Mom has died.
Mom spent her first 22 years living in her parents’ home, and her first move was as a new bride into Dad’s farm house. Or rather, her in-law’s house, Carl and Helen. Anna Conway, her Mother-in-laws mother, was also living there. Bedridden and cared for by Helen, Mom learned how to care for her. Mom said it’s where she learned not to be afraid of death. Anna lived for a few more months and mom’s compassion, home nursing care skills, and possibly entire attitude about life, came from that situation. Her Mother-in-law, Helen, had 5 sons and was pretty excited to have a “daughter” in the house and they got along well.
Eventually the in-laws moved out and mom could make it her home. Mom and Dad lived the next 20 years in that old farmhouse which was made up of bits and pieces from the previous 100 years. Mom could have done without the snakes that came out to sun on the stone foundation or the honeybees that moved into one wall, ate through the plaster, and got inside the room late one night.
When Mom was 42 years old, the time came to build a new farm house. She moved the family into the machine shed for a few months in mid-summer. Which became fall.
And then winter. And then she moved the family out of the machine shed and into the new house. And she made that a home for 21 years until they moved into town when the next generation took over the farm. Mom was 64.
They found an empty lot in town and started building a house and they were determined NOT to still be living on the farm when the next newlyweds moved in. She had done that and wasn’t doing it to the next couple. Their next-door neighbors in town were going to be gone for the summer, and offered that mom and dad move into their house while the new house was being finished. They didn’t have to move quite so much stuff at first, and when the new city house was done, they simply moved next door, to their new home in town. And they lived there for 17 years until they decided it was time to move to Senior Housing. Mom was 81. It’s surprising how much stuff one can accumulate so quickly, and they spent the summer having garage sales and giving stuff away. Mom was determined to move and she worked hard to convince Dad this would be OK. He really wasn’t so sure, and he was grumpy about it all summer. And one can’t really blame him; moving from the country into town was bad enough, but now, moving from their house into an “apartment”…well, that was quite an adjustment so his anxiety was understandable.
That move took a while to sort out as many things went to temporary storage, and more stuff was given away, and it took a while to figure out what they needed in the apartment. And Dad discovered it was OK not having to worry about snow or grass. And he was able to create another workshop. They made a nice home there for the next 8 years until Dad’s passing. Mom was 88. And mom moved into another apartment, got rid of more stuff, and she made that her home for another 7 years.
And then she moved once more. Her last move. Into a single room with a shared bathroom. And the kids packed up her stuff again. Mom was 95 and slowing down.
It felt different that time. She didn’t need much, nor did she have room for much. And there was a lot she wouldn’t need again. The move was her idea so that helped. Ever practical, she knew she needed more assistance. She knew it wouldn’t be perfect. “I’ll need to have a lot of patience.” she said. With her usual resilience and attitude, she made the best of it. Most of the time. Through new staff, through covid, and paper plates, physical therapy, new friends, visits from old friends, she was able to enjoy it.
She was often awake at night “thinking” about things. She’s had a lot of thoughts over the years.
She never thought she would be blind. That’s been the hardest thing. That’s what’s gave her the most trouble of everything. As much as she would say “Oh well, God will take care of it.” she sure had a hard time rationalizing God taking care of that one. She was so close to 99, just a few weeks short. Not that that was ever a goal, no one ever heard her have a goal that was age related. Her latest goals were more of being able to walk again, or seeing. And when you think of the things she did, and saw, you would understand that.
So, finally, the best move of all: rejoining her beloved husband, and her brothers and sisters, and her mom and dad, and all her cousins and nieces and nephews. She’ll be asking everyone ‘What do ya know??’
She loved getting together with family or friends. She always wanted to make sure everybody had a chair. She wanted to make sure everyone had something to eat.
And now she has a chair. And she has ice cream. And She’s really home. Again.
WHAT ARE YOU SERVING WHEN GATHERING WITH FRIENDS?
Trail Baboon 
wonderful tribute ben
thanks
peace
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debbie pulls out cheese tray with crackers and salami or simmer sausage, hummus and dips tortillas olives peppers and box of white wine chips and salsa quacamole we are set for whatever
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Tender. Heartfelt. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks, Ben. This is such a revealing piece, not just about your mother, but of your family.
When your mother, as a 22 year old bride, moved in with her in-laws, and learned how to take care of the bedridden mother of her mother-in-law, speaks volumes of her character. This short paragraph sums it up nicely: “Mom said it’s where she learned not to be afraid of death. Anna lived for a few more months and mom’s compassion, home nursing care skills, and possibly entire attitude about life, came from that situation. Her Mother-in-law, Helen, had 5 sons and was pretty excited to have a “daughter” in the house and they got along well.”
How well we play the cards we’re dealt really determines the kind of life we’ll live. Your Mom sounds like a woman who early on accepted that marriage and life can be imperfect and challenging, and she made the best of it. Leonard Cohen said it beautifully in the chorus to Anthem:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in
Well done. Your love for you Mom really shines through here.
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Well said, PJ.
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Mom and dad were instrumental in their church getting a bell Tower. I rang the bell at the beginning of dad‘s funeral, we’re going to have the grandchildren ring it at the end of Mom’s. It completes the circle nicely.
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Wow, Ben, thanks so much for letting us see these stories, and get to know a little of who she was. She was quite a woman! It is amazing what things that happen in our lives shape what we become.
Food: When our little Happy Hour group meets, we have assorted cheeses, crackers (incl. those Fig & Olive Crisps from T Joe’s), maybe some fruit, or veggies & dip, and hopefully olives from the co-op’s olive bar. and of course, wine. This happens less frequently because that time slot is now taken by the Monday protests – we’ve tried it AFTER supper, so last time we skipped the snacky things and brought quality chocolate and cheese.
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Sorry for your loss Ben. I think that her experience and example helped you to be a kind, creative, and flexible problem solver.
For get togethers, goat cheese and crisps are my favorite or something with rhubarb along with a good cup of tea. Oh and those good little almond biscotti from TJ, wonderful with peach tea.
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A lovely tribute Ben. She seemed to be a wonderful mother and person. My condolences.
I serve whatever strikes my mood when friends come over. Apps are usually chips and salsa or hummus, maybe some cheese and crackers. Nothing too fancy, but always delicious.
Meals can be anything I feel like making that day. Nothing super fancy. I tend to fall back on tried-and-true recipes that I know everyone will enjoy.
Chris in Owatonna
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Fabulous Ben- thank you so much.
I have several go to dishes, but they’re dependent on what the gathering is. For my holiday gathering I always make the little Reuben puffs and for Pi day there are four or five kinds of pie that people really, really like so I make them every year. If it’s a sitdown dinner with folks, there’s always a salad and I almost always have some kind of sweet crunchy nuts and craisins (my favorites) as salad toppings.
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After 10 years of taking care of Sandra and Covid I have only one friend to gather with and we go out. However, now at the age of 72 he is too blind to drive down here.
My daughter and s-i-l flew to Cape Cod on Monday for a respite before their lives get very hectic. The day they flew out s-i-l’s father was suddenly diagnosed with rapidly developing blood cancer. Airline would not move their flight up. He is 88. They fly home tomorrow. I agree, Ben. That is delightful. I will probably in 6-7 months be moving to be near my daughter.
Clyde
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holy shit
sorry clyde
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it might be possible to give your friend a ride down and back
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Rise and Remember, Baboons,
Thanks for writing this piece, Ben. The header picture also is just wonderful. Now I feel I know your Mom and you better. When you cleaned out the house was that a few generations worth of stuff? So many old farmhouses have held generations of family and the stuff stays as the people cycle through the house.
Food: I love to make sweets for a group because then I can sample them without having them in the kitchen where I eat too many of them. I love to make deviled eggs, as well, and that is a dish that seems to disappear quickly with almost any group. Plus you can add many variations: dill, garlic, bacon.
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When mom and dad left the farm, they were pretty good at taking all of their stuff out. If we should live so long, I can only hope we’re half as organized as Mom was or I pity our kids having to deal with all our crap. Maybe this summer will be the summer we get the basement cleaned out.
And let’s not talk about all the junk out in the buildings. Hire an auction company and dump it all.
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I went on a cheesecake baking binge in the last month and brought pecan caramel and hazelnut caramel cheesecakes to work. People said they felt spoiled.
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This weekend some members of our church are performing “Church Basement Ladies”. I have not joined the service committee at our church, the women who prepare and serve food at funerals. Pethapa I might in Luverne. We plan to attend the musical production tomorrow night.
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One of my water aerobics friends serves on this committee at a local Lutheran Church. They no longer serve homemade, donated food, but rather use a caterer, but the Church Basement Ladies provide the labor. She was complaining last week that she had 3 funerals that week and she was tired.
At my mother’s memorial we hired a caterer and that all went so smoothly.
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JacAnon
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Mom was one of those church basement ladies for a long time. She worked a lot of funerals and she left very explicit instructions regarding what food to serve and, more importantly, what food NOT to serve.
It sounds like the church also uses a caterer.
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I’m curious, what did she NOT want served?
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I sympathize with your family’s loss, Ben. And, having tried to do it myself, I know how difficult it is to summarize a life. You did it well.
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Like.
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Thanks for all the nice comments. This group is such a safe space. The plan is that I will read this second piece at mom‘s service. So thanks for letting me try it out here.
I feel I’m a lot like mom.
As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I’m taking more and more of her attitude. I try not to stress out I try to let God take care of it.
I remember her playing out in the snow with me, she was throwing me birthday parties, she taught me how to sew, she taught me how to work in the kitchen, she pushed me to do the 4H one act plays which led me to the theater.
No wonder I was her favorite. 🙂
It’s interesting, as the siblings talk, we learn mom talked to each of us about different stuff. The real serious stuff was for the oldest girls, I just got the fun mom.
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Nice.
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Corned Beef and Cabbage
by George Bilgere
I can see her in the kitchen,
Cooking up, for the hundredth time,
A little something from her
Limited Midwestern repertoire.
Cigarette going in the ashtray,
The red wine pulsing in its glass,
A warning light meaning
Everything was simmering
Just below the steel lid
Of her smile, as she boiled
The beef into submission,
Chopped her way
Through the vegetable kingdom
With the broken-handled knife
I use tonight, feeling her
Anger rising from the dark
Chambers of the head
Of cabbage I slice through,
Missing her, wanting
To chew things over
With my mother again.
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I love this. Lovely.
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I’m a day late. This is so sweet and moving, Ben. Your mom must have been wonderful. I don’t have the words I want to say, so I’ll just say again that I’m sorry for your loss.
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