What did you forget to tell/ask your mother? Here are a few things I have thought about…

What was your most embarrassing moment?

If I had to guess it would be the time you failed algebra. You sat with the seniors at the student assembly even though you couldn’t technically be a senior until you passed. You said the juniors called you out on it. They said you were supposed to sit with them.

I need a little clarification.

You said boys were easier to raise than girls so I prayed for and had two boys. Later, I married a man with two young daughters. What you told me wasn’t true. You couldn’t have known, I guess. You were 7 1/2 years younger when you had Billy. Never mind.

I know you loved to read, but why did you only read biographies and autobiographies?

Why did you go to bed when there was only ten minutes left of the movie you were watching on television?

Apparently, when Grandpa raised horses and you lived on horse creek, you were mean to the Osborne kids. What did you do to them? You were only eleven when you all moved to town, and they said you were the only one they weren’t going to miss.

Did Grandma Sanderson know how to sew, knit and crochet? Mrs. Theisen said you Sanderson girls never learned how to do anything useful. I think she was wrong…although I never learned how to do any of that, and I didn’t learn how to cook, either. It’s okay. I can make a mean bed and clean a commode from my motel room cleaning days.

Who did you really give my pompoms to?

Here is something I didn’t know about you. Billy said you weren’t allowed to play cards when you were growing up. You didn’t even know the four suits. The only card game you ever learned how to play was bridge. You had no desire to learn any other game, because no other game could possibly be as intriguing as bridge.

I really admired you for your business acumen. You and Gus kept the motel in top notch condition and you knew when to sell it.

You could have written a book with all of your idioms. I still remember many of them because most of them had a “not so hidden” lesson. Others were just short ways of stating the obvious.

Water seeks its own level. We shall see what we shall see. Everyone has their own cross to bear. Always show your best side. Always put your lips (lipstick) on. When you get five dollars, you don’t have to always put it on you or in you. He/she is having a mad hot. (Billy said I started that one.)

Thank you for giving us all so many amazing memories. I wish I had asked you more questions, Mom.

This song describes a dramatic experience that really could happen to anyone. Thank you Lady Jules CB for giving me this gift. I will always treasure it as I’m sure you will treasure my beautiful rendition of “Oh my Faux Pa.”

You even had to stand up to the Facebook police who wanted to remove this beautiful song because they thought you were bullying me… just because you said my roots were white. Few people have such courage.

I would like to dedicate this to Shelli and Sherri who are having a birthday today. They are sisters and twins and truly wonderful people and great friends with a wonderful sense of humor…Right?

The words to the song in case you would like to attempt to sing along…

This poem is from the heart. I wrote it because I know there are others like me who have a difficult time finding the right words to say to someone who is grieving.

Sometimes when our eyes are closed, we can see much better

I can’t seem to find the words, so let’s do this together

We can sit here quietly and I’ll take your hand in mine

I’ll look inside your hurting heart and see what I can find.

I see the one you’re missing is right where they belong

They want you to know they have been there all along.

See them fill it up with all the love they have to give..

They want you to remember, in your heart is where they’ll live.

Let’s sit here a while longer. You can tell me what you see

A smile, a laugh a wink… a treasured memory?

Remember all those things you thought you never would forget?

The good and maybe bad times. And it’s not over yet.

One thing about memories…you’ll recall the cream of the crop

Because the bad ones sink to the bottom and the good ones rise to the top.

When our eyes are closed, we can see a little better.

Let’s keep them closed a little while and say a prayer together.

That was the motto for Murdo High School’s class of 1970. The class flower was the yellow rose, and the colors were silver and orchid. I don’t remember our class choosing any of those. I never would have guessed silver and orchid. After fifty-one years, you forget some things.

How could it possibly be fifty-one years since I graduated from high school. I can still see the students, the teachers, and the classrooms. I can feel the excitement of the football and basketball games, and hear the songs the band played with Mr. Palmer directing. I remember my friends and I wore skirts as short as we could get away with and go go boots like Nancy Sinatra’s. We all had summer jobs and in our senior year, we hardly ever missed a Vivian dance. Vivian was a small town about a thirty minute drive from Murdo and the dance was held in their auditorium every other weekend. It was one of those reputation risking events because usually, nothing good happened after ten o’clock. I remember the music was always good, the dance floor was packed and so were the bleachers.

I got a little nostalgic today while looking at some photographs a classmate’s brother posted on Facebook. A while back, Tammy Lindquist Van Dam sent me copies of several MHS annuals. I was happy to see 1970 was among them because Mom lost mine. If you want to know the truth, she threw it away. I told you that Mom never kept anything.

I also didn’t remember why some of the pictures in the annual were one big blur. The football picture only had ten kids in it. Eleven were absent.

It really was too bad because there were seven seniors on the team, and it was undefeated. We had one All State player.

Our basketball team won the District 16 Championship. They lost the 2nd game of the Regional Tournament. The basketball pictures were better as were those of the track team with all its record breaking stars. Coach Applebee had some good stuff to work with.

Here is what happened. The annual staff had to spend the summer reconstructing the annual when they found that over twenty pictures sent to them by the photographer were missing. They had been burned. (I don’t know how that happened.) They quickly gathered as many as they could find of groups like the football team. I think they did an amazing job.

I remember our senior float and stuffing all those napkins. We made a huge skunk. On the side it said, “Skunk the Falcons.” I even remembered that we got 3rd place out of the four high school floats. I thought our skunk was a winner. It looked like the skunk was spraying the goal post. Maybe that’s what offended the judges.

I jumped around a bit didn’t I? Homecoming is at the beginning of the school year, followed by basketball, and then track. English literature was my favorite class followed by algebra. I hated anything having to do with science or chemistry. We had girl’s basketball, but not home economics. I did take Spanish. I didn’t retain much, but I still remember the words to the song Danny Koester and I translated into Spanish. We chose “Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet, but the fruit of the lemon is impossible to eat.”

Limonero muy bonito y la flor de limón es dulce pero el fruto del limón es imposible de comer. (I cheated and googled it. I remember using limon arbole for lemon tree.)

And then we all graduated…All twenty-seven of us. High school is only four years in the life of a kid, but I believe it really influences what happens next; especially if you grew up in a close-knit community. Some get it right away, while it takes others longer.

For years, I used Palmer or Peterson when asked to give the name of my favorite teacher. It was the answer to a secret question in case I forgot my password, which happened often.

Murdo High School…I loved it! The building is gone, but the memories linger…

“I’m only as strong as glass,” she said. “I could break and I might shatter.

I’m speaking of my body. Of course, my mind is a different matter.”

Broken glass infused with color becomes an artist’s inspiration.

Transformed into a stained glass window… it’s now a stunning creation.

White light passing through a prism releases a full spectrum of colors.

Glass cast aside by some is now deemed magical by others.

Glass can be deceiving. We see many shapes and sizes.

We think we can see through it, but it often will surprise us.

It’s vulnerable to all things that are weightier and strong.

Fragile glass left unprotected won’t be whole for very long.

She said, “I didn’t see it coming. I was broken beyond repair.

I knew I’d never be the same and it filled me with despair.

I saw a ray of light and looked up to see it’s source.

I couldn’t understand, and then I heard the words… ‘Of course’.”

He said, “Of course you’ll never be the same. Not like you were before.

Don’t lay in shattered pieces that you know you can’t restore.”

“What else can I do?” I asked. Silence met my plea.

My hand reached for a prism. Of course… His answers came to me.

Pick up a few good pieces of those scattered all around.

Take the ones infused with character. There are several to be found.

Let the light shine through that prism you are holding in your hands.

Brush off the other broken glass as the new you bravely stands.

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No matter how we live, we can’t control our lives.

We can’t prepare ourselves for all that might arise.

We might feel like shattered glass, broken for all time…

But we can salvage the good still there, and leave what we must, behind.

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“You must always be aware,” He said. “Because, of course, I’m always there…”