My mother passed away yesterday. She was in her late nineties. She stood about five four, the granddaughter of western pioneers: she was born in an Oklahoma farmhouse just after statehood, and didn’t have a birth certificate until it began to matter. She grew up on an Oklahoma farm, rode to a one room schoolhouse on a horse, and was so tiny they had to put books under her feet so she could use a regular desk. Around the time of the Oklahoma dustbowl, she was introduced to my father, who worked at the local icehouse, by the nephew of Cole Younger, who rode with Jesse James. She and my father worked in Washington, DC, my mom in the US Bureau of Engraving, where she helped handle the huge wet sheets of special paper, under presses that could take a hand off, working with no mask, in a constant aerosol of inks.
By the time I came along they were living in St Louis, and they found their way back to Oklahoma, close to their parents, by the time my brother was born.
My mother loved taking care of kids. She worked in the church nursery for years and years. She and my dad loved camping, and they did a lot of it, finally building a lake cabin with their own hands. Her health began to go, slowly at first. But she survived five bouts of cancer, radiation, chemotherapy, you name it, and remained active. In her mid nineties she began to lose her sight, which was her greatest trial. She loved housekeeping, and insisted on doing it herself. Which pretty much describes her attitude toward life. She viewed horses as transportation and saw men walk on the moon. She died of just plain old age, refusing a hospital, which is a pretty good life.
Oh my… condolences to you, your brother and all your extended family. Tears are trickling down my cheeks as I read everyone’s comments and type my own. Having lost my Dad and my Grandma and not wanting to contemplate the, hopefully years hence, when my Mom leaves, all I can say is that having people around with whom to share your memories lighten the rawness of loss and time slowly, gently abrades the sharp edges of the hollow in your life.
Thinking of you, your family and your Mom,
Raesean
Please accept my sincere condolences on your loss.
My love to you, and sympathy: although I have not yet lost a parent, I lost a sister, and know something of the pain that comes with losing someone so close. Know that all of us are thinking of you and wishing you comfort.
I am so deeply sorry for your loss. I definitely have gotten the sense, having read this blog from practically day one, that you and your mom were very close. That generation was a special one, the last of the pioneers in some ways, to have gone from horses to men on the moon, dick tracy to cellphones, ingenuity and inventiveness from necessity to cope with all the privations of the Great Depression. She sounds like a lady of grace, humor and spunk. My thoughts and prayers are with you and all your family. Just remember, that those who touch are hearts are never really gone from us.
I am very sorry for your loss. It is fabulous that you have such vibrant memories of her.
So sorry.
So sorry for your loss. My dear Mum passed away on 29 June after a short battle with cancer so I have an idea of how you’re feeling right now. Mum was 81 and raised 8 children with our Dad (who we lost 2 years ago). We all miss her so much, but like you we have wonderful memories of a lovely, caring and much loved Mum. Thinking of you at this difficult time.
A card is on its way via OSG. You should get it either tomorrow or Saturday, Monday at the latest. Again, my condolences and hopes for peace in your heart.
Joe, your card arrived here safely today.
my heartfelt sympathies.
to have had such a life in the time that she did, what more could we want?
My most heartfelt sympathy for your loss, and best wishes for you and David and your family and friends in the days ahead.
My deepest sympathies…
OSG, thank you very much.
my deepest sympathy to you and your brother.
My deepest symphaties on your loss…
Thank you all so much. The funeral was one of the nicest: the cemetary is only 2 miles or so from the family farm, and we held services under a tent at the site, with children, grandchildren, cousins and nieces and nephews, old friends of my mum’s, and in the backdrop, the orange-red earth and dry summer grass of Oklahoma, plus a line of curious Hereford cattle at the adjoining fence. The roads through the cemetary are all of a gauge set by Model T’s, and have never been widened, nor has much ever changed there: the trees have stood exactly the same, and its the kind of cemetary where there are always flowers. She’d wanted to come home, and among those sights, she did, right next to my dad, who loved the same land.
She always hated rain for funerals. We’d had cloudbursts that day. But for the hour of her funeral, the rain stopped. The skies cleared to show blue sky, and the ordinary hundred degree temperatures and hot winds of summer gave way to cool, springlike breezes. The hot wind only resumed as we were leaving. You couldn’t ask better.
I just joined your site today, but wanted to send my sincere condolences to you and your family on the loss of your Mum. I grew up tromping the orange-red earth and dry grasses of Oklahoma, and can still feel quite vividly the heat and humidity of summers there. I buried my Mom in that red earth after she passed on Christmas Eve, 1999, at the too-young age of 59. Hugs to you all, and may peace find you.
My condolences. I lost my Mom in March, and it’s left a very weird hole in my life.
I’m sorry to hear of your loss. I lost my dad back in 2004, and I still feel it even now. I know how you feel.
Your mother sounds like a very strong and loving person. My deepest sympathies and condolences to you and your family.
Walter
She sounds like she was a fantastic person who lived an amazing life. My condolences for your family’s loss.
I just noticed this (when searching for anything you’d written about Oklahoma, being a fellow ex-Okie myself…). Very sorry to hear about it… I lost my father 9 years ago, and my mother just 3 years (my father would have turned 87 today…) and I know that even though almost a year has passed, it can still be hard…
May I ask where the family farm is (approximately)? I thought I heard you used to live near Edmond… (I grew up in Stillwater myself)
The family farm is in Anadarko, and if you stand at the entry to the main road, you can look up the hill to Indian City. We spent many years, my cousins and I, walking that dusty track. My mum used to ride it (on a horse) to school. And she and my dad and both their families are buried at the other end of it. My granddads both arrived when Oklahoma was Indian Territory, one a bachelor cowboy with his widowed mother, one a farmer with his parents; one liaison unaccounted for (the family mystery) and one a farmwife tough as nails. They all came to rest there, which is curious stability for a lot who had traveled far to get there.