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Look at Mom’s Hands

Dedicated to the sunshine of truth,

the moonshine of meeting deadlines,

and the starshine of Victoria.

         Henry and Angel from Canada were also there and they told us the year was 1993 when we rode the chicken train together from Matamoros to Reynosa.  Our kids, Jenny and Nick, were also with us on that unusual adventure when Mexicans really got on the train with live chickens, probably for supper that evening.  I’ve got the pictures to prove it. 

         Jenny and Nick were with us often over the years as we drove the 25 hours from Victoria.  In the first years, we stayed in the different homes Mom and Dad rented at the Alamo Country Club.  It was in 1994 that my parents decided to build their own home there, next to an open space where the rabbits were still running like crazy in the backyard.

 

TWO YEARS LATER

         In June of 2013, I had the perfect opportunity to hear more stories.  It happened on our trip together -- Mom, Dad, Allan, and me -- out to Tioga, North Dakota, for Gunnar’s First Holy Communion.  Gunnar is Jenny’s little boy and one of my parents’ 30 great grandchildren.

         Allan and I drove out to Ghent -- about two and half hours from Victoria -- to pick them up for the trip.  We arrived at the farm at 12 noon on Friday, June 7th, 2013.  Dad and Allan lifted our suitcases from our Nissan Pathfinder to their Honda Odyssey.  The Odyssey is much more comfortable for a ten-hour drive.  Mom was sitting at the kitchen table cutting up apples for the road.  She cut up a whole bag!  She also brought along a little cooler full of cut-up vegetables to sit by her feet, as she said.  Nibbling comes with the territory.

         Mom had heart surgery at the Mayo Medical Center in Rochester, MN, in October 2011, to replace a heart valve.  They had to cut her rib cage open.  Mom was 84 then and, come to find out, as Dr. Susan had suspected, she also had pneumonia, but came out of it alive.  We talked about that surgery as we were drove across South Dakota and up into North Dakota. 

         When Mom was recuperating, she said she slept in the recliner chair in their bedroom for many months and she’d hear the wind come up at night from Buffalo Ridge, north of Pipestone, and she’d hear the wind leave again.  It was a strong wind.  Mom’s reflections reminded me of when I babysat my little brothers and I would sleep in Mom and Dad’s bed until they got home, and I’d listen to the wind, too.  Now I know it was coming over Buffalo Ridge but I had never before heard of “Buffalo Ridge.”

         As we were driving through the vast Dakota flatlands, much of the time we simply talked about the scenery -- there was water everywhere, in potholes and ponds and ditches.  We stopped for snacks, gas, and potty breaks, and then I’d reach for my yellow tablet again.  Nobody said anything about me taking notes.  We just talked.

         Dad was reminded of when he and his brother Jim drove through Dakota on their way out west to buy cattle in Montana.  That was in the 1950’s and 1960’s.  Said Dad, “I bought them too high and sold them too cheap.  Harold always said to do the opposite.”  We laughed at Grandpa's line and also at Dad being funny in repeating it.  “When Grandpa talked that way, he wasn’t feeling a lot of pain,” said Dad.

 

Click here to continue “Look at Mom’s Hands.”

The Victoria GAZETTE

May 2014

Back in the old days, Mom had a very big garden that she ended all summer, and Dad especially liked the green onions and tomatoes.  In recent years, it’s Dad’s garden and he still especially likes the green onions and tomatoes.