Memories

Wednesday we had the Memorial Mass and Graveside Service for Mom and it was nice. At the cemetery I had a pretty substantial feeling of heaviness in my chest because standing there so close to the house she loved so much I could not believe she was under all of that dirt. As an adult I know that all that is really there is a shell and the person that she was, her spirit and her soul had moved on, but for some reason the child in me could not grab on to that spirit.

Instead I wanted to be next to my Mom in her sundress working with her roses, watching TV while she works on her needlework, sitting at the dining room table having sugar cookies and hot tea while solving the worlds problems, watching her eat and sincerely enjoy that un-toasted white bread with only cinnamon on it that a 5 yr old Jennifer made and called cinnamon toast. I never remember my Mom really being mad at me but she had this magical, subliminal way of letting me know she was disappointed in me. I remember Bunni and I came home from Bunni's Senior party very drunk. She did not say anything but the next morning she made us do some serious housework knowing that we did not feel very good at all. Of course we could not say we felt bad or she might know ... in hindsight though she knew and we got the message she was not happy with us!!

I miss calling my Mom for advice ... it was ALWAYS good and it ALWAYS worked. Back then it never occurred to me that I would not be able to call her right up until the end and get that same advice. In the last months I did talk to her about stuff because I started to believe she understood more than we had believed. And then I searched her expression and my memories for the answers.

And then there are the letters from the places she got retirement from. They go something like this ...

"Dear Ms. Shorter,

We are very sorry for your loss. We send our sincere condolences.

But she does not get any more money so if some shows up in the bank have them send it back."

Oh I get it but I kind of wish they would have left off the niceties. The bluntness kind of discounted the niceness. ;)

Overall I am doing pretty good ... my slumps do not last as long but the bedroom is still a work in progress. I often wear one of her shirts or headbands or robes ... it makes me feel close to her. Love you Mom!

Sense of Purpose

I miss my Mom ... alot!

I think it might be compared to the phantom limb people experience when they lose a limb. I keep having this feeling I need to go in to check on her, or I need to turn the TV down as she is napping, or I need to keep my voice down as I walk by her room.

This is the first time I have ever wished her room had not been the master bedroom because had it been just another room I could shut the door and sort through her stuff later ... much later! When I go into her room now I am weighted down in the shoulders, I cannot bring myself to make any changes because I feel like she might think I am discarding her and her memory. But I also believe that when people go to Heaven they do not think about us like that. They are in a joyous place and I believe that all of the pain and strife going on in this world is not conducive to a Heavenly experience and so God does not allow them to have an awareness of those things. So I guess it is the her I carry in my heart that I worry about offending.

And why do I miss her, honestly I really believed I was going to be stoic, rejoicing in her being able to start a new journey, so happy, so at peace. I was not going to be a whiney butt, going around feeling like woe is me. But I miss her eyes, the way she would stare at me so intently, trying so hard to get her message across. Sometimes I got it ... sometimes she was using expression to show annoyance, but that was rare, usually it looked like sincere gratitude, or sometimes love, or sometimes I think she was saying she was very proud of me, or sometimes it was a very apologetic look if she felt like she had hurt my feelings, or sometimes it was that look that said she was on my side no matter what when I cried because I felt like I was failing her in my efforts to learn.

I think my Mom and I "talked" more in the last 2 yrs than we talked in my whole life. I am so thankful for the gift of taking care of her!

I miss her soft hands, her periodic moments of sarcastic wit, her smile, her way of letting it be known what she liked or did not like without apology.

And maybe I also miss her because she was my sense of purpose, the reason I woke up, I am in a funk. I am more bothered by this "empty nestiness" than I was when the kids left. I am sure it will be better every day ... the bedroom door is closed and eventually I will get to it!

Celebrating Mom- December 2011

Mom's Eulogy

Mom's Eulogy written by her Granddaughter (my niece) Dana and read by her daughter (my sister) Laverne.

sugar

veg oil

vanilla

lemon extract

eggs

flour

Mix wet ingredients. Add dry. Drop heaping tsp of batter on ungreased cooking sheet. Flatten with buttered bottom of small glass dipped in sugar. Bake 400 degress 8-10 min “Watch ‘em so they don’t burn”

Who didn’t love Grandmother’s cooking? Her sugar cookies are a legacy themselves. It’s amazing when looking through all the memories sent in by Grandmother’s children, grandchildren, cousin’s and friends, how many of us talked about her special cooking. In my house when I cook something that tastes really good, I say, “You know why it’s so good? Because I put LOVE in it.”

Grandmother was not the touchy feeling kind of grandmother, she didn’t give big hugs or constantly tell you how much she loved you, but she LOVED you and we felt it in many ways. Her cooking, her sewing, her story telling, her community involvement, and her presence all evoked the essence of her love and the importance of family and heritage. I remember her tours of Matador and Whiteflat, making sure we knew our Texas roots.

I loved her cheesecake so much she made me one for my 10th birthday. And I loved that she always loved and welcomed my Dad, Don Wittler, even though he and Mom were divorced.

Her love for her oldest son, Ray, is elicited in his memories of their weekly phone calls after the family moved back to the Texas where Grandmother grew up. They would discuss hopes and dreams, problems and solutions.

Steve values how supportive Grandmother was regardless of what latest idea he was sharing, whatever adventure he was planning to embark upon. He never felt that she ever had anything less than total belief in him. He appreciated that she never smothered him with over protectiveness, giving him great freedom to explore his the neighborhood at a young age, even if it meant letting him wander for hours, through woods, across creeks, the shores of ponds and lakes, stores and shopping centers.

Lamar knew Grandmother loved him when she forgot his birthday and then apologized profusely the next day. And as a school bus driver he is reminded of her tone of voice that commanded respect when he finds himself speaking in that same tone on the school bus.

Over the years Beverly has collected particular philosophies of Grandmother.

On kids: “Never say no unless it is morally wrong or will do physical harm.”

On serenity: “They cannot get your goat if you do not tell them where it is tied.”

On integrity: “If you cannot say anything nice do not say anything at all.”

On life: “Live and let live.”

Grandmother showed her love for Julian by letting him rock out in the basement during his high school years! When Julian wanted to play in the Foose Ball Tournament in Lubbock, Dad said no. Julian pleaded his case; always coming home on time, doing chores. Dad said no. Julian retaliated. If I can’t play in the tournament, I’m not playing football and went to his room. Moments later Mom tells him Dad had decided he could play in the tournament. In first grade she walked him to the corner, then waited till he crossed the street and walked inside the building. On one such day after Christmas and Julian lost his brand new scarf, they walked up and down the street looking for it.

As a child, in awe of my teenage Aunt Bunni, I was able to witness Grandmother’s love graced upon her in many ways. The one that stands out the most is the puffy quilt she made for her college dorm. The fabric selected for the quilt represented many of the outfits she had made for Bunni during her grade school and high school years. Bunni and her children also loved Grandmother’s cookies, macaroni and cheese and her Galumpki.

How awesome is it that our Grandmother made Galumpki one of her signature meals. Our family ancestry was so important for her that she made sure we knew our heritage on both the Texas side and the Polish side.

Grandmother loved all of her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Some of us were fortunate enough to know her more because we lived in Texas. Others received her love through baby quilts, special embroidered napkins, pillowcases or table cloths; through family recipes and stories passed down by our parents; or through the philosophies instilled in her own children and passed down to us.

The following memories of Grandmother from her grandchildren reflect this love.

Danielle said “Every time I make grilled cheese I think of her making it extra good by putting a tin can on to melt the cheese and give it a nice crispy ring on the white bread. I also learned my sweeping the floor techniques from her. And , I remember the pageant dress she made for me which had a cowgirl look to it.”

Donnie recalled, “I remember her always cooking, sewing or baking those famous sugar cookies. I’ve never had any others that can compete with hers.”

DJ remembers most her home. “Year end and year out it was always the center of the universe in Roaring Springs. Everything revolved around that house in where she kept her family tight, close knit and in communication. It was tidy and warm and never changed. It was home base for the Zabielski’s.”

Jennifer also remembers Grandmother’s house, so homey. “I felt like nothing in the world could be wrong. I felt safe. I remember her having toast with butter waiting on me when I woke up. I remember in her eyes that I could do no wrong.”

Stevie Lynn said, “Grandma Grace was a strong and beautiful woman who truly had a graceful presence. She had a lovely smile that would light up the room.

Megan remembers that Grandmother was the epitome of class and style. “She dressed well, carried herself well, and you listened when she spoke.”

Our cousin, Lamar Tilson writes that she was his favorite aunt, a gentle soul. He loved visiting her home. It was so peaceful.”

And finally, my brother Johnny shares from Ecclesiastes 3. For everything there is an appointed time, even a time for every affair under the heavens: a time for birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted; a time to weep and a time to laugh; . . . what advantage is there for the doer in what he/she is working at? . . . I have come to know that there is nothing better for them then to rejoice and to do good during one’s life; and also that every man/woman should eat and indeed drink and see good for all his/her hard work. It is the gift of God. Johnny adds, “My point in quoting these verses is what is mentioned in the last sentence. It is the gift of God. I did not know Grandmother that well but I do know all of the amazing people that she raised on this earth and I see all the good for her hard work. She has raised an amazing family and I am sure it was not easy, but worth every bit of work, and this is the gift of God that was given to all of us through Grandmother. You are all beautiful people and reflect the amazing qualities of Grace Laverne Tilson Zabielski.

The Funeral

Mom passed away on December 14, 2011 and we had her funeral yesterday December 17th in Matador, TX which is in the county where she was born and raised as Grace Laverne Tilson. She was born on January 13, 1927 and raised in Whiteflat, TX which is down the highway about 10 miles. It is what you would call a ghost town now, not really anything left there but dilapidated buildings. It was quite the little town in its hey day though based on the historical marker on the highway! Here is the text of that marker. My Mom's Granddad, my great Granddad, is the W.R. Tilson mentioned. The buildings in the picture are the old Whiteflat school and the early day Methodist parsonage.

Whiteflat
This area of Motley County was first called "White Flat" due to the tall white needlegrass which covered the flat prairie land. A post office, named Whiteflat, was established for the rural settlement in 1890 at the request of W.R. Tilson.
At its height, the community boasted four grocery stores, three service stations, three garages, two cafes, a hardware store, two gins, and three churches. A school, first housed in a one-room schoolhouse built by volunteers, opened in 1890. It was replaced by a four-room school in 1908, and in 1922 a new two-story brick structure was erected. It also served as a community gathering place.

Dependent on an economy based on agriculture and small family farms, the community began to decline as a result of the depression and dust bowl years of the 1930s. The Whiteflat school closed in 1946, when it was consolidated with Matador schools. The local churches disbanded in the 1960s; the post office closed in 1966 following the death of the last postmaster, Ida Morris; and the last remaining retail business, a grocery store and service station closed in 1968.

Mom was so happy to move back to Motley County, she felt like it had such good Christian and small town values. In a small town you are never alone. So I was sad and disappointed that not many showed up for her, but I was very thankful for those that did. Over the years I have noticed that those people have always epitomized the Christian and small town values Mom loved so much. You know who you are and I love you!

All seven of her kids traveled many, many miles combined to be here and that I am sure made her so happy. We had a wonderful time catching up and sharing stories about Mom.

We had the funeral at the Methodist Church in Matador and Pastor Bill did an excellent job on her service even though he did not know Mom. She had been sick and out of circulation too long for him to have had a chance to meet her. I was so happy that he was the one God put in our path when we were unable to get the Catholic Diocese to find us a Priest. Mom was raised Methodist anyway plus having the service there we were able to make it more personal, something we cannot really do in the Catholic Church so I was happy.

Annette Hollingsworth read the poem in my previous post and my sister Laverne read the Eulogy that her daughter Dana wrote. I will post it in the next post as a separate entry.

I've lived a life that's full. I've traveled each and every highway;But more, much more than this, I did it my way. - Elvis

Today I did not leave Mom’s side, I both sat with her and held her hand or I lay in bed with her. I watched her breathing patterns change exactly the way the nurse told me they would, the final one being what they call “fish out of water”. I prayed with her, I sang some, talked about what it was going to be like when she got to Heaven, and then I leaned over and whispered, “Tell Dad I love him and miss him and I love you.” She took a couple of more breaths and she peacefully slipped away. It was 1:15pm but the “legal” time is 2:22pm because we had to wait until the nurse got here to pronounce her.

From Mom to her Kids - Epilogue to My Life

Don’t waste your time in sorrow,
for you’re not meant to stay.
And linger in emotion that breaks
your heart this way.

Rejoice and celebrate,
the life that once was mine.
The moments that were shared
and what I’ve left behind.

Remember times of laughter –
of joyful moments shared.
Of casual conversation,
and meals we prepared.

Remember all the times together,
the laughter and the tears.
The times we spent together
over all these years.

A blessing God had given me,
to raise you as my own.
But the gift that God did give to me,
was never mine alone.

Strong men and strong women,
you grew up to be.
To touch the lives of others,
and grow our family tree.

I am so very thankful,
in all that you’ve become.
No one could feel prouder
of each daughter, of each son.

Mistakes, yes we all will make them
But that’s just how we learn.
Don’t look back upon them
with any measure of concern.

I did what I knew best,
though mistakes, I made them too.
It was all part of this journey,
you learned from me, I learned from you.

Don’t think of any memory now
Of one that you regret.
Instead be glad, as I am,
that it was time well spent.

With each moment we’ve come to know,
a different part of who we are.
And ever you were dear to me,
whether near or far.

You may not ever know,
how your impact was so great.
Of what your lives did mean to me,
as I sit now, at heaven’s gate.

Because of each of you,
I spread my wings to fly.
And when my wings were broken,
you wiped away the tears I cried.

Who you remember me to be,
comes from all that I have known.
The good times and the bad times,
led me to the place, I now call Home.

I sing with angels, dance in heaven,
I sit at Jesus’ feet.
I’m at peace, no pain, I’m restful,
I am a masterpiece complete.


Written by my brother Ray's friend, Tracy Lynn Schiro Vokac, for Mom to her kids. Thank you Tracy ... you nailed it!

The Chair

I had company today and I talked about one of the things I miss the most was Mom not being able to sit in her chair in the living room. It always took me back to Roaring Springs and her in her chair. It created the same feelings of "going home" to see Mom and Dad and the way they made me feel so "taken care of". When I was in Mom's house in Roaring Springs it did not matter what was going on in my life, for that few days I did not have a care in the world! So when Mom was in her recliner in my living room all was right in my world, I so looked forward to the evenings. Now I feel out of sorts. I told Leann that while my Mom was never super affectionate there was never a time I did not feel very loved by her!

One of my friends posted this on Facebook today and I thought it was perfect!