Saturday, May 12, 2018

Remembering our Mom's

I thought this would be a nice time to drop by and say hi. It's been 18 months since Joe died. I'm adjusting to the new normal.  I just recently learned great grandbaby number 12 will be here in December. Another granddaughter graduates from high school in June. I now have hearing aids in both ears. Kinda fancy  in the fact they match the color of my hair...Silver. I'm suppose to be using my cane because my gait isn't good....I lean to the left.. so I suppose I need to swallow my pride and start using it.  I have two rose bushes, a Mr. Lincoln whose fragrance is 2nd to none, and a yellow one, the last rose bush Joe bought. I was thrilled to see the yellow roses will be in bloom in time for Memorial Day. I take the first rose of the season and place it on his marker. The crowds at Willamette National are horrendous during that weekend. So I make sure I am there a couple of days ahead, and at the gate when they open so I can "beat the crowds. 
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My Momma
Esther C. Waterer
June 21,1921-April 10,2012 




Joe's Momma
December 6, 1914 - November 5, 2013


HANDS
By My Sister Jan

I look at my mom’s hands. These nearly 91 year old hands, now so lifeless, have done so much. They have tenderly held her dolly and pushed her in the doll stroller that I still have.
As a young girl, they helped take care of her little brother that was only a year younger than her. We’ve heard stories but I’m sure there were more. Her hands were busy as a teenager working in the orchards near Walla Walla.

Soon after marrying at 19, these beautiful hands helped her husband build a home
Not long after the home was completed, her hands received the first of three children. Her hands tenderly picked up the infants and touched each face with a love that only a caring mother can possess. The same hands bathed each girl and her boy, washed their clothes and picked them up when they needed her.
When mom and dad bought an 80 acre dairy farm, these busy hands now became a working set of farming hands. They worked in the soil, cut heads off of chickens and milked cows.
The years passed and these hands were trustworthy in many ways from counting and taking the church offerings to the bank and then working at the bank. Many hours her hands sewed beautiful doll clothes, dresses for her own daughters as well as mending for her son.
They have mowed lawns, ironed for her family and hired out to do others. Mom’s hands have punished when it was needed. Amazing how the same hands can show love with a caress yet can also sting with a powerful force. But aren’t both touches of the hand administered to teach that a child God’s way of love through obedience?
Growing up and watching mom’s hands, I can’t leave out the hours I’ve seen them holding her bible. Because of this, Betty, Dick and I are all followers of Christ and one day soon these hands will again hold her precious son’s hands. We only get one set of hands in our lifetime. What are you holding in your hands?