Grandma Margaret Clawson

I was thinking about my grandma today--in a couple of days it will be the 2nd anniversary of her death. Her name is Margaret Kerr Lieshman Clawson. She was married and widowed twice. Her second husband, Ray Clawson--my grandfather, passed away in 1972, so she was a widow, for the second time, for a very long time. She would have been 104 in April of that year (2007). She was a teeny-tiny woman who lived in a teeny-tiny trailer in a teeny-tiny town, Charlo, Montana. I believe I copied her history for those of you who would want to know--if not, tell me and I'll pass it along.

My dad's mother died when he was 16, then he lived with relatives in Idaho until he went into the Navy and then on to school in Logan and then married my mom. So, he never lived with Mother Margaret, as all the kids called her. But he loved her just like a mother. We went to Montana every year to visit Grandma and Grandpa, and then even after Grandpa died, we still went to visit. I know that up until she died, my mom and dad still went to see her at least a couple of times a year and they called often. I am proud of my dad for helping to take care of her.

Life for Grandma Margaret was not easy. I remember going to visit--it took all day long. We always arrived in the middle of the night (or so it seemed to me, a sleepy-headed kid), but that was part of the magic of the whole thing--arriving in the dark, setting up beds and not really knowing where you were in the morning when you woke up.

When I was little, Grandma and Grandpa still lived out on the farm. Oh man, that was so wonderful! We got to go to the bathroom in the outhouse, bathe in the washtub in the barn and pump water outside. I'm sure my mother wasn't thrilled with the outhouse, but I remember thinking it was something very special.

I do remember when my dad, and perhaps some of his brothers or brothers-in-law, put a sink in the kitchen with running water. It was still a pump, but inside the house. The sink was a long trough with the pump at one end and a drain at the other. Then a couple of years later, they installed plumbing. Actual running water in the kitchen, and a real bathroom. It was fun to see the "new stuff," but not nearly as much fun as bathing in the barn.

I don't remember a lot about the farm, other than what the house (in my memory) looked like and the barn. I do remember one time when Grandpa showed me how to check the eggs. He held them over a little light to see if a chick was starting to form. We didn't want to eat those. I remember driving down the long dirt road past Charlo to get to the house.

I think I was about 10 years old when Grandma and Grandpa sold the farm and bought their trailer house. I distinctly remember my dad sitting at our kitchen table with a letter in his hand, upset at how small the trailer was. So, we had to go and check it out. Somehow the trailer dimensions written in the letter turned out to be much smaller than the actual trailer. But it certainly wasn't a large trailer, just large enough for two grandparents. Again, I thought that was very cool. There was a little bedroom where Arlene and I got to sleep, in a bed just larger than a twin. I remember a picture hanging on the wall above the side of the bed.

I am picturing a lot of green at Grandma's house. I don't know if she had green carpet or couch or an afghan or what. Maybe the stove or something was green. That horrible olive green was the color of the 70's. Sorry most of you missed it. (We had a lot of green at our house--green shag carpet. My mother liked green. It's taken me until just recently to acknowledge the color green. I don't eat green things--green jelly beans, gumdrops, Dots, green jello or Kool-Aid. Gratefully, the popular shade of green has changed.)

I remember a little bit about the town of Charlo. It had an Indian trading post (which we thought was very cool, but I don't ever remember actually going in there--probably off limits to us kids). Charlo had a general store and a laundromat. It was close to a couple of other little towns--St. Ignatius and Ronan. When I attended Ricks College I met a guy from Montana. I asked him what town he was from, but he insisted that I wouldn't know it because it was very small. Naturally, I persisted, somehow knowing that I would know. He said he was from St. Ignatius! So I said, "Oh right next to Charlo and Ronan!" He was dumbstruck. It turned out that he used to go home teaching with Grandpa Ray. He said Grandpa always insisted on driving, which was scary. One day they were out doing their home teaching, and there was this huge cow standing in the middle of the road. The kid could see the cow, so he kept commenting, boy that's a big cow in the middle of the road, hoping Grandpa would slow down or something. Grandpa didn't really acknowledge what had been said until he got right up to the cow. He slammed on the brakes and yelled, "Wow, did you see that big cow? I almost ran right into it."

I remember Grandpa taking Arlene and me to the general store and buying us play money. In my memory, that happened every time we went to Montana, but probably not. Still, play money makes me think of my Grandpa.

One time Arlene and I were helping Grandma dry the dishes after dinner. As she put the glasses in the cupboard, I noticed on the very top shelf some great glasses that had little African gals on them. I was intrigued, not having seen much of anything like that and they were obviously way cooler than anything we had at home. They were tall and skinny and the little girls were wearing a colored cloth tied around one shoulder and huge gold hoop earrings. So, naturally, I asked Grandma why we didn't ever get to use those glasses. She said, "Oh them with the little black babies on them? They're too hard to dry. You can't get your hands in the d---- things!" Holy cow! I'd never heard anything like that in my whole life, and especially not from my teeny-tiny grandma! I never heard her say anything like that again, but I will never forget it.

My grandma had a special place in her heart for my mother. Mom told me once that when she and my dad were engaged, Dad wanted to take her to Montana to meet Grandpa and Grandma. Grandma later told my mom that she was embarrassed to have my mom come and see her in her little house, but after she met my mom, she was no longer worried to have Mom around. She made a couple of quilt tops for my mother and she was always happy to have her visit. She also liked the fact that my mom pitched in and helped and didn't sit around wanting to be waited on.

A couple of years before she died, Grandma could no longer see well enough to crochet, so she gave bags of yarn and crochet cotton to my mom. Mom gave some to me--mostly teeny-tiny balls of yarn left over from some long-finished project. What was I going to do with all that yarn? So I started crocheting baby blankets and afghans for my grandchildren. Sometimes there is only a row of yarn from Grandma, but I have labeled all the blankets and written which yarn came from Grandma, who will be the baby's great-great-grandmother. At first my kids thought I was nuts, but now they talk about which blankets "their babies" will have. It's been very fun and makes me think of my grandma. I have about three tubs full of blankets and afghans. I think I'm addicted.

So, two years ago on New Year's day, we got the call that Grandma Margaret was gone. Think of the wonderful reunion she had! There were two husbands waiting to see her, two step-children and a couple of her children. Think about how Grandma Veva (my dad's mother) must have greeted her--Margaret took care of her babies for her when she couldn't.

Grandmother Margaret had lived alone for many years, but for the past 2-3 years before her death, she finally sold her home and moved in with her daughter. Her doctor had been telling her for several years before that time that she should move in with someone, and she'd smile and say, "Okay." Then leave the doctor's office and say, "I'll do whatever I want." And she wanted to be in her own home. I know the ward members there in Charlo were very good to her. Grandma didn't drive, so they took her to church and to the store and helped her with everything she needed. When she was turning 99, they decided to have a big birthday party for her, thinking it would probably be the last one. I rode to Montana with my brothers Ron and Lynn for the party--I'm so glad I got to be there. I remember someone asking Grandma where she wanted to have her party the next year; she said, I don't want to be here! Surprise--she was there for four more birthdays.

Grandma Clawson was a mother to my dad's younger sisters when they didn't have a mother. She was grandmother to me and my siblings, as well as to our many cousins. She had two families of kids that I think didn't always get along, so that was very hard. She loved my Dad and his brothers and sisters. I know she loved me. I am grateful for her and her sacrifices, for the life she lived and the love she freely gave.

My Dad

This is how I remember my dad. I remember fishing with him, wading in the water, hooking the worms, and calmly waiting. I loved fishing with my dad, maybe partly because my sisters didn't. I think Arlene didn't like the worms and I'm not sure why Luan didn't like going. Perhaps she was just old enough to want to do "girl" things, and this wasn't. Maybe I was just young enough that I didn't care about those things. But I did like being there with my dad. This picture shows Corky, Taylor, Simona and Dante fishing with Grandpa. When my kids were little, Grandpa would load up the fishing gear and head down the canyon--there was place where you could fish without a license and just pay by the pound. We did a lot of fishing there. Later that place closed, but Grandpa took us to the fish hatchery--I believe this picture was taken there. I have a lot of "Grandpa fishing" with my kids. Taylor and Simona remember fishing with him, but I don't think Dante does. I'm not sure Jake ever got to go, so that's not one of his memories, but it's something I certainly remember.

I remember Dad had a friend who would come fishing with us once or twice in the summer, and he'd bring his two grandsons. I went with them a couple of years, but one year I decided against it. I think that was year I decided I needed to do "girl" things. I wished all day long I had gone. I've always been sorry I didn't go; I missed an opportunity to be with my dad.

I remember going to Alturas Lake in the summer and fishing. I can feel the water lapping around my legs now. We had to stand quietly, or we'd scare the fish. I loved Alturas Lake and have such great memories of that place. There were a couple of different spots on the lake where Dad liked to fish. When too many other fishermen came, we would move. I loved catching a fish; I even loved cleaning the fish. Yeah, yeah, that's kind of gross, but I did. Again, maybe it was because my sisters didn't like to clean them. I always did want to be a little different than everyone else.

I remember getting up very early on opening day of fishing season. It was probably 3 or 4 o'clock--a.m. I remember driving, snacking, sleeping in the car, just waiting for the right spot. I never could figure out how Dad knew where that spot was, but he always did. Stopping under a viaduct didn't seem like the right place to me, but he knew where the fish were. Of course, he always had a can of corn at his disposal, ready for chumming (which I found out later was illegal). But hey, it attracted the fish. Wasn't that what it was all about?

On the way home (or depending on the time of day, it could have been on the way there), we would stop, I think in Shoshone, for a black raspberry malt. Maybe that's why I went? I still choose black raspberry malts; not sure if they're even my favorite, but they remind me of my dad.

After I was married, Corky and I went fishing with Dad (we even got a malt). I remember we stood in the stream on one side of a fence, clearly posted "No Trespassing." Dad cast his line over the fence. He figured we weren't trespassing as long as we stayed standing on the right side. Corky groaned and rolled his eyes, but he chuckles about it now. That was my dad.

This is Dad's 8th grade graduation picture. He is in the front row. Can you spot him? What a cute boy!

And here's my sweet dad at my wedding. We were standing outside the temple, waiting for our turn for pictures. Isn't he cute? I have to say I have a wonderful dad. I love him. He has always been good to me. Certainly I can think of times when I was mad at him, but generally that was because of me, not him! I know this was a very happy day--I think for Dad as well as for me. Before I was married, I'd meet my dad in Logan and we'd go through a temple session together. We'd get inside and Dad would always say, "Do you have a spare groom hanging around?" I think he was worried that my prince charming would never show up. Luckily for all of us, he did.

Happy Haunting

Check out these kidlets. Taylor was the Joker, of course. Dante was a mummy (made by Corky), Jake was the Skeleton--check out his lower jaw--Zumiez for $6. Simona was Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. Her friend, Erin was Alice from Twilight. We had some neighbor kids go with us--they are in the group shot. Our friends Isaac, Katrina and Dominic Azevedo. Oh, and that's Corky's Frankie on the door (next to Taylor).

A lonesome Halloween photo. . .

Here is my thrilled little boy showing off his costume--well most of it. He is missing his bandana which had the lower half of his skeleton head. It was so cool--it even had gold teeth. We found it at Zumiez in the mall--$6. What a deal. Of course I knew he wouldn't keep it on for the whole evening, but that's okay. I painted these bones on black sweats--that way the kids stay warm, and I was pretty happy with how they turned out. This picture doesn't show the arms bones very well. But, one of these days I'll get more Halloween pics and post. You'll love Dante as a mummy. Corky did a great job with that one.

I promise I'll get more pictures posted. I just never think about writing when I'm at home, and that's where the pictures are! I'll get better at this. I promise!

Thanksgiving Addendum

Okay, my "bummer" about watching football must be taken as sarcastic. I hope that's completely understood. I did not miss it. But I know Grandpa likes to watch and Corky will watch with him, but generally I don't. I did, however, watch parts of the Utah-BYU game and cheered in all the appropriate places. And of course, we were wearing RED and screamed and yelled at the end of the victorious game. But that's another story.

And--I failed to mention another thing. I started telling about the belt on our car, or in our car--whatever. A couple of winters ago, it slipped every time it got wet outside. Nasty deal. Gratefully I was pretty close to home and not trying to get home from work in the middle of the night. So, last week we replaced the tensioner and the idler pulley--they work with the belt. But we had to put on a belt that had once been in our car, but not for a long time. So we'd just kept it in the back, just in case. Well, when all these other things were replaced, we used that belt because I neglected to purchase a new one. It squeeked and squeeled. So Wally, my handy-dandy mechanic neighbor, who I pay in cash but tip in pies, said we should get a new one. Didn't happen before we left for Idaho. I had the newly-purchased belt in the car awaiting its proper place, but alas, was not in its proper place. We got home and Corky decided to get gas and wash the car since it was filthy. He went through the car wash, and guess what--belt slipped off. I called Wally and told him I'd been praying for that belt, but here we were, safe and sound at home and ready for his services--once again. Can I say how grateful I am for a guy who knows how to fix my car? Corky and I are totally happy to know Wally. Sounds like that's the only reason we like him--don't get that idea. He's a great neighbor. And he likes my pies.

So, I am thankful that the belt stayed in its place while we were travelling and that we didn't have to be towed someplace and pay tons to have it replaced (even though we had a replacement belt--one guy wanted to charge me $50 just to put it on). Perhaps the belt slipped off because Corky went through the car wash on Sunday evening? I don't know about that. But I am grateful that it happened when it did (not counting the trip), but because Corky was there to help. I hate dealing with the car but I usually have to, since I'm the one home and the one driving it. These things always happen when Corky's at work, so this time, he totally took care of it for me. Thanks Corky. Thanks Wally. Thanks especially to One who was looking out for us on our trip. I am truly grateful for that.

Oh, P.S. We had a great fireworks display at Grandma's house. For those of you who remember Thanksgiving there, I hope you remember the fireworks. On Friday evening, there is a huge display. It's great because we just go outside, set up the lawn chairs on Grandma's patio, bundle up, turn up the music and watch. I was at the store earlier that day and heard someone ask another person if they were "going to the fireworks." Made me do a double take because we don't have to "go." We are already there. Thanks for the fireworks Grandma!

Over the River. . .

As we drove to Twin Falls for our traditional Thanksgiving feast this year, I started thinking about how many times I have driven that road. Innumerable. I can't even begin to guess. I lived in Provo for two years before I went on my mission--I drove to Idaho many weekends and all holidays available. After my mission I lived in Salt Lake for another two years before I got married. Same deal. I don't think I can even count how many friends I took with me. My parents were always gracious to let me bring my friends to spend a weekend--male and female. Now I've been married for almost 23 years. I must admit that since the kids are here and older, we probably don't go as many weekends as we used to, but we still go for several holidays: Presidents' Day in February, sometimes Mom's birthday in March, Memorial Day in May, once or twice in the summer, Labor Day in September, Thanksgiving in November. That's about seven times a year. Our horse knows the way for sure.

Dante and Jake were in school on Wednesday--Jake had his Thanksgiving Feast that afternoon so we certainly couldn't leave early. Dante's was on Tuesday. Dante's was great--all the kids were assigned different items and they just shared--just like the Pilgrims and the Indians. Then they played this silly turkey feather game. They had feathers (the construction paper kind) and two people played at the same time. They each choose two feathers, hide them behind their backs and have to try and see (name) the feather colors of their opponent. It's pretty goofy--they actually look like turkeys because they are arching their backs trying to keep their own feathers hidden while discovering the color of the other person's feathers and dancing all around. Dante challenged me--he thought he'd whoop his mom. Ha! I had him beat in no time.

Jake's feast was a little different. Taylor, Moni and I picked up a fully cooked turkey from a grocery store and took it back to the school. Of course it leaked turkey juice all over the car seat. Hm. That was the seat Simona had chosen for the ride to Idaho. We soaked up as much juice as we could with school paper towels--not very absorbent. She sat on a towel and smelled like a turkey. Anyway, we helped divide the turkey between three 2nd grade classes. The kids brought other items to share. It was so fun. Jake's teacher had the kids make paper pilgrim hats and collars. They looked great. She also plays the piano, so the kids were singing their Thanksgiving songs while they ate. It was great fun. It was funny to see the kids in the class and their reaction to Taylor. He has been helping in the class on Thursday after he gets out of school, so they know him. They love him! They totally surrounded him and joked with him. They thought it was so funny to put their hats on his head, especially the girls. He just plays along. Younger kids have always been drawn to him.

So as soon as we got home, we quickly packed the car and . . . waited. Corky wasn't quite ready to go. When he called, we hopped in the car and hoped for the best. We've had some car troubles but thought everything was taken care of. Our wonderful mechanic neighbor Wally was on the ball. We have a belt that keeps slipping off, but I prayed that belt would stay put. Our tradition is to pick up Corky and then get a hamburger on the way out of town. It was getting a little late, so we opted to get out of the traffic and down the road a little before stopping. Jake wasn't totally thrilled with that option, but he survived. He's a hamburger boy. I think he'd bleed burger blood.

We decided to pull off at Tremonton to get our burger--we've done that before, but in the dark we took the first exit and couldn't find a burger place. We did see a road that went to the left and both Corky and I decided that it would probably eventually lead to our destination, which is more like a truck stop with several burger choices. Wow--I'm so glad we took that exit. We got to drive right through downtown Tremonton. I don't know that I've even been there before. In all my trips to Idaho, I never went through Tremonton, why would I? Quoting Planes, Trains and Automobiles when Doobie says, "All you see on the Interstate is Interstate," he's right. I've always driven right by this darling little town. The main street reminded Corky of what Twin Falls' main street used to look like. There were great stores, lit up for the holidays. There was a King's "dime store" as my mom used to call it. I wanted to stop and walk through the town. I can't wait to make that mistake again, only the next time it will be intentional. Simona decided she liked it enough to live there. Jake said--okay, I'll live there too and we'll be neighbors and sisters! It took him a minute to correct that statement.

I started looking out the window--actually on the way home since it was pitch black on the way there, but for our purposes here, we can pretend it was on the way to Grandma's house. I love looking at all the fields, in every season. In the spring they are plowed and planted, but if you hit it on the right day, they are also flooded. Grandpa says the farmers love to have as much water on those new seeds as possible to help them sprout. In the middle of the summer, I love driving by each field to see what is in it. I know it's Idaho, but there really aren't that many potato fields where we go. They have quite a few potato fields closer to Idaho Falls (my uncle Rone is a real live Idaho potato farmer), and closer to Twin Falls they have potato fields in a little town called Murtaugh. (The kids from Murtaugh I knew put the accent on Murt-totally holding it out. Well, they were the farmer kids, but we loved it when they would come to the church dances in Twin Falls--they had cute boys. Problem was, they always said, oh, I have a cow named Sally. Yeah. Thanks.)

The fields I can name are beets, corn, alfalfa, peas, grain (wheat), beans, and I can't think of any more. There is a sugar beet factory in Twin and there are some places where they come up with new varieties of beans, etc. A lot of the crops in Twin Falls are used for seed. I didn't know that while I lived there. Had to move away to find that out.

I live here in a valley--mountains all around me. I love the mountains, Wasatch on one side and Oquirrh on the other. But I also love the flat flat of the landscape going to Grandma's. You can see forever. At certain places in the trip, there are some small mountains, and their peaks and valleys are very familiar and comforting to me. But the flat scenery of home has a special place in my heart. I remember standing out in the back yard watching the sun go down. It took a long time. This weekend, however, Corky called me out to the back yard and we could see Angel Moroni on the Twin Falls Temple. That was so cool. What a blessing a temple in Twin Falls is. There are houses overtaking the fields around Grandma's and Grandpa's house and soon I probably won't be able to see Moroni, but he's there now.

In fact, my canal where I used to hunt asparagus with Tad Haney is gone. Tad was cute and I loved asparagus. What could be better--walking up and down a long field with a cute boy finding good food? I remember sleepovers (only we called them slumber parties) in my back yard--not with Tad. With the girls my age. There were ten girls and two boys. Tad Haney, Eric Jacobsen--me, Kathy Evans, Kathy Jones, Darla Thompson, Kayleen Galley, Lori Christensen, Jeni Christensen, Kelly Miller, Jill Gerdes, and somebody else. I remember one night we slept out in the front yard, which was strange because it seemed like it was generally in the back. Anyway, I remember we had gone to sleep and all woke up at the same time and there was a meteor shower. I have thought about that all these years, and then started to wonder if maybe I'd made it up. A few years ago I ran into Lori Christensen and she said--do you remember that time when we were sleeping at your house and there was the meteor shower? I was so happy. It was a real memory!

I am thankful for the home where I grew up. I am thankful for the yard and the fields where I played. I am happy to be an Idaho Spud. I love planting seeds and seeing things grow. I'm glad my parents planted a huge garden and I got to taste of the wonderful food grown from the earth, from our own garden. I'm glad my dad was so generous that he planted much more than we needed and gave away many vegetables to neighbors. I'm glad my mom was industrious and taught me to can fruits and vegetables. I still carry on that tradition--I always think of the scripture that says "I shall lay up the fruit against the season unto mine own self." Makes me think maybe I'm actually doing something for my family, something I should do.

My kids and I planted squash for Grandma this spring. In the summer I saw some of the plants growing with vigor, all over the yard and up into the lilac tree. I saw about 6-7 large Hubbard squashes. When Ron helped Mom harvest them, there were 16--4 plants each bearing 4 squashes. One was a monster. Mother saved it for us, but it wouldn't even fit in the car--I would have had to leave a child. (But who?) We brought home a smaller one, which was still very large. I didn't think to take a picture of the giant feller, but it was at least three times larger than the "regular" guy.

Thanksgiving was good. I cooked. I made great rolls. Ron and Sharalee and Alan came, and Sharalee was surprised to know that I made the rolls and not Grandma, as well as the dressing. I guess she hasn't paid much attention over the last several years, because I've cooked the meal for quite a while now. Well, Grandma probably still did the rolls, but I did them this time. I've been practicing. We had three bags left over--they were gone by the next night. My kids chow down rolls.

I'm glad I was there with my mom and dad and my husband and my kids. These are the people I love best. It was a thankful day.

Funny, we didn't watch a single football game. I didn't even notice until the day was done. Bummer.

Giving Thanks

Okay, I've been tagged by Anna to tell what I'm most grateful for. Wow. Right now it's kind of hard because there are so many things. Everything that I'm so thankful for seems to be magnified--I guess that's normal when life has been topsy-turvy in the last few weeks.


I am grateful for Ed Richardson, my father-in-law, for the life the lived and the love that he so freely shared. I always felt loved by him. He always told me that I was beautiful, and he made me feel beautiful. I am grateful for the example he was to his son, my sweetheart.


I am so thankful for Corky. He is so good to me--he showers me with affection and makes me feel beautiful--I guess he got that from his dad. Corky is truly my favorite person in the whole world. A long time ago a bishop told me that someday I'd meet somebody who would make "my socks roll up and down." Every date I went on I thought about what my socks were doing. Corky makes my socks roll up and down. I am so thankful that we are married and have a family. We have been married for over 22 years--it still seems like just yesterday, but we're just more comfortable. I am thankful that he let me be a part of his life.


I am so thankful for my kidlets. I love being a mom. My kids make me smile and laugh and cry and go crazy. I love the goofy things they say and do and I love their sweet kisses and hugs. For all you who worry about having teenagers, don't. Certainly there are challenges, but they are a lot of fun! I love having kids of all ages. It's so great when you see them work together and help each other be happy. These are the current school pictures.


I am thankful for my Mom and Dad, brothers and sisters and all of their spouses and kids--and their spouses and kids! I have felt an outpouring of love from each of them during this past month, and for that I'm grateful. It's wonderful to have people who care about you. I am amazed at the generosity and love from each. Thank you! They sent us a cookie bouquet that arrived the day before Grandad's funeral. My sister Arlene (in the picture with me) kind of spearheaded the whole thing--she said she wanted something that would make us smile. Smiles were kind of lacking, and this truly did make us smile. Here's a picture of the bouquet. It was delicious! Thanks to all of you.

I am grateful for parents who have taught me the gospel and who have lived it their whole lives. I am thankful for the temple and the peace I feel when I'm there. I am thankful for some wonderful friends--women in my neighborhood and ward who like to be with me! We have a girls' day and watch a chick flick. I love that. I love having someone I can talk to and cry with.

Life is good.

November 6, 2008

Tonight at 6:15 p.m., Edward Milton Richardson, my sweet father-in-law, passed away. I am so sad. He was such a wonderful man; I truly love him. I met him before I met his wonderful son, Corky. When I came home from my mission, I went to a Singles' Ward and Bishop Richardson made me feel very welcome. He reminded me so much of my dad, and it was always a comfort to see him smiling at me, along with everyone else, from up on the stand. He was truly the "Father of the Ward."

We got a phone call in the early afternoon that Grandad wasn't doing very well, so I took care of things at home (missing my first day as a new Cub Scout leader), picked up Corky and we went to the VA Nursing Home where Grandad has been a resident for almost two months. We were so lucky to be there with him during his last hours. He was so ready to go. His poor, frail body looked nothing like the man I had known. I could not believe the difference in him from the last time I had seen him. A week ago, Grandad was doing okay. He had fallen out of bed twice in the past week and cut his head open. I think the second time really was what sped things along. He hadn't eaten since about Monday, and his body didn't want to be there any longer.


Corky's brothers Steve (and Kim) and Tim (and Alisha) and I were all there along with Grammy, Andrea Richardson. I am so blessed to have been a part of it. Corky gave his dad a blessing, telling his spirit that it was okay to let go. He had done his work here on earth, and really with Alzheimer's disease, he was gone a long time ago. Corky has said goodbye to his dad more than once, and has missed the dad he had known for quite a few years. I was glad that he got to give this blessing and tell his dad how much he loved him and how much he had meant to all of us.


Even when you are preparing for this moment, and know that it is imminent, I don't think you can ever really be ready. I have never been with a person before when they passed from this life to the next, but it was very sweet. We knew he was gone. And once he took his last breath, the look on his face was actually much more peaceful than it had been for the several hours prior to that fateful moment.


I miss you Grandad. I love you. Thank you for being such a wonderful man. I am so grateful for the Plan of Salvation and the understanding we have of what life and death is all about. Death is just as big a part of living as is birth.


This Wednesday, the kids in our ward are doing baptisms at the Temple. Ed Richardson was the only member of the Church from his family. We have hundreds of names of his ancestors for which we need to do temple work. On Wednesday, we will bury the body of Ed Richardson at just about the same time the kids in the ward will be doing baptisms for his ancestors. Do you think he will be there with them as they watch this event? I hope so. It's because of him that we have these names; because of him that their work will be done.

Again, I am so grateful to have been able to partake of the goodness of this wonderful man. We lived at their home for a few months, and while we were there, I could see that he always wanted peace around him. He did whatever he could to make everyone happy, sacrificing his own wishes. He knew when to stay quiet, but also when to speak up. He was always happy and friendly, kind and well mannered, right to the end. What a blessing he has been to all of us who knew him.

I love you so much.

A couple of pictures

I found a couple of pictures I thought I'd try to add. This is a recent picture with my parents as well as Jake and Dante. We were at a baptism of my niece's daughter, Georgia Williams. It was a great day. Jake was excited because he would be getting baptized before too long after that. Also, here's a picture of my oldest brother, Ron and my youngest brother, Chad.

A day in the park. . .

What a great day! It started out feeling kind of yucky, well at least I did--I suppose the day was fine to start with. After some Motrin, Excedrin, Mucinex, a Dr. Petter and a trip to the park, I started feeling much better. I went with Dante and Jake, Emily and Moira and the wee babe Kella. Snuggling with a baby always makes me feel better. Tossing a softball to my son always makes me feel better. Sitting in a chair talking to my favorite friend always makes me feel better. Feeling the breeze of a soft autumn day always makes me feel better. Doing nothing and not feeling guilty makes me feel great!

We tried to go to a little museum in the park, but it was closed. We did look around the outside and saw some great old farm equipment. It makes me think of my grandparents, even my parents. My mom and dad both grew up as farm kids. My dad's family moved to Montana when Dad was about three years old. I try to think of my sweet daddy when he was just a boy--he tells lots of great stories of his childhood. They really had nothing, but I have never heard him complain. I'll tell more of his stories another day.

Here is a picture with my grandpa and grandma, Ray and Veva Clawson and their first three kids--Orilla, George and Marion. We don't have many pictures of Veva, she died when my dad was 16. That was a rough time for this family, as would be expected. This picture of Grandpa is many years later. I remember him looking like this--the plaid shirt and overalls were common attire.

My mom grew up on a farm, then they moved into town when she was in high school. Last time we were in Idaho, we asked my mom about her farm life. She said the thing she loved best was that she got to follow her dad around--she loved being with him. Then Corky asked if there was a job she particularly disliked. She immediately responded--harvesting the hay. My dad agreed. They both said there were thistles and weeds that got harvested along with the hay. My mom's job was to stand inside the big wagon where it was all tossed. She said all the pieces were in the air all around her and all over her, making it hard to breathe. She specifically commented that the stickers and thistles got stuck in her stockings.

Mom said they had some cows, but she never had to milk them. They had chickens so she gathered eggs, and they had pigs, too. They had a large garden that sustained them, and then the hay fields. They had grain, which she told us you call it grain when you plant it, and then when you harvest it, it is wheat. I didn't know that. They would have the wheat ground into flour. They had enough milk that they could sell some.

I know they lived in a basement house. That must have been cold. She has told me before that all three girls slept in the same bed. They always wanted to sleep on a side because you could turn either way. Funny, Corky's mom said they always wanted to "breathe in the middle." Their rule was that the middle person could turn either way but the outside person had to sleep facing outside. No thanks. Three in a bed is at least one too many!

This is my mom when she was a little girl. She said she had to wear overalls when she worked on the farm. She hated them and couldn't understand why I wanted to wear them when I was in high school. Hmm. I knew a cute boy who wore overalls, so naturally I had to give them a try. Loved them! He didn't last, but the overalls did.

Okay, that's it for my reminiscing for the day.

So, the park really was great. We went to a park with a huge playground--has a castle and digging things and I really don't know what all. Lots of boardwalks and tunnels and stuff. Dante, Jake and Moira played and played. It was even too warm for their jackets. What a beautiful day. Emily, Kella and I just relaxed in the shade and the sun--we took turns being in one or the other. Sun got too hot; shade got too cool. But it all balanced out.

My boys are off track this week and next. I love having them home! We always try to do some fun things while they are out of school. They are in year-round school, which means they go for about 9 weeks and then have 3 weeks off. This time, however, they only have 2 weeks off. I know they make up for it in April with 4 weeks off. That will be good, and I know that 3 weeks is not a whole lot more than 2, but 2 certainly seems short! We have a couple of outings planned--Thursday we're going to the Ogden Children's Treehouse Museum. I love that place. The kids get to dress up and play so many different things. It's great for their imaginations. It also has lots of educational play things for them. They can sit in the "oval office" and be the president. There are just too many things to name. I'll have to post some pictures later this week.

We are getting ready for Halloween--I'm painting bones on black sweats for Jake so he can be a skeleton. I was a tad bit worried about doing the painting, but it is turning out okay. Dante wants to be a mummy, so I've got to get going on a costume for him. Moni wants to be Sally--no, not me. Sally from "A Corpse Bride." We found her a plain tan dress at the DI, so she can turn it into Sally's dress--all patched up. That should work. I'm not sure what Taylor is going to do. He thinks he should still go trick-or-treating, even though he's a senior in high school. It doesn't bother me as long as he has someone to go with, they don't cause trouble and they dress up. That's the rule--no candy unless you wear a costume. So don't forget--come to my house and trick-or-treat, but wear your costume!

My bit of heaven. . .

Well, I have been told I should begin. I feel kind of lame because I see so many very cool blogspots, and mine will never be that cool. However, I have also been lame in my journal-writing, so I figure if I write here, it will all work out in the end, right? Hope so. I'm totally counting on things working out in the end; otherwise, I'm in a heap of trouble.

Today I painted kids' faces in Jake's 2nd grade class at their Halloween party. I know it's a tad bit early for a Halloween festival, but today was their last day of school before going off track. They had several games to play and many munchables to eat, but I sat in a corner and painted. I loved it. I only did very simple things--cat, witch hat, bat (not all of them rhyme--I promise), ghost, pumpkin, Boo!, snake, and I don't remember anything else. The kids really liked it and they were happy, so that's good.

Jake has a wonderful teacher, Mrs. Ligget. She's been teaching for many years and really knows what she's doing. He had a rough year last year, but hasn't at all this year--one time in trouble, not bad! She gets the kids' attention by just saying, "class, class." Then they stop, look at her and respond, "yes, yes." Sometimes she says it three times, sometimes just once. She doesn't raise her voice, but they know to listen for that. Whatever inflection she puts in her voice, they respond the same. So if it's "claaaasss," they say, "yeeesss." Sometimes she'll say, "hands and eyes." They stop, clasp their hands together and open their eyes really wide, staring at her. If someone isn't paying attention, she says, "Oh do we need to do a mighty groan?" Then they all groan. I love being in her class!

Yesterday we had Dante's party. I'm so glad this whole year these two teachers decided to have their parties on different days. That makes it so much easier to be in two places, not at the same time. I didn't have much to do at that party, just be there. The kids all planned what they wanted for treats and had a sign-up sheet. We took a box of Twinkies. Simple. I like it. They played a fun game--each was assigned one of the following: skeleton, ghost, bat, zombie, witch or pumpkin. The person who was "it" called out one of the list and those people had to change chairs. I've played it before with everyone in a big circle, but she had the chairs all mixed up. That made it very crazy. If you said "Halloween" then everyone has to change places. The person who is "it" is trying to get a chair. Whoever is left is now "it."

I love it when the kids go off-track. We don't have to get up early! I don't get to bed until about 1:30 or 2:00, so I end up getting kids off then coming home for a nap. This way, I can just sleep a little longer, and then I have the whole day. Taylor and Simona are still in school, but Corky gets them up. I'm so grateful to him for that. Taylor has to be at school by 6:00 a.m. every other day (for Jazz Band), and 7:00 on the others. Moni goes to Jazz Band at the Jr. High at 6:50. That's so early for me.