Remembering Mama

18 December 1934 -  16 October 1984

It's been a long time . . . 27 years.

I was 27 . . . you've been gone half my life.

Oh, how I have missed you. 

Even now the tears well up as a wave of emotion rises, threatening to pull me under.

Some days I feel your loss so acutely, long for your presence so powerfully.

Many days I needed your ear, your experience, your wisdom.

The day I watched my husband walk down the road clutching two bags of belongings.

 Away from our home, our children . . . away from me. 

My entire being ached for your arms that day.

And you knew how it felt.

The day your first grandchild stood by the sea in San Diego.

Exchanged vows of love and commitment with his dream girl. 

You would have been so proud.

Your first granddaughter,

 who loved to snuggle and ask "you wanna talk about it",

would still love to talk about anything with you. 

It makes me sad that her memories of you have faded away to faint shadows. 

 It makes her sad too.

And believe me,

you would have been the first one I called when MY first grandchild was born

. . . and the four more that came along after her.

Oh, Mama, they are so precious, so beautiful, so funny. 

You would love them so much . . . and I know they would adore you.

 Ever present in my memory,

so many little things make me think of you and smile . . .

ice cream sundaes from Dairy Queen, popcorn,

the World Series, the Carol Burnett Show,

cribbage and canasta,

hollyhocks, dahlias, tulips and cosmos

fried mushrooms, homemade chow mein

banana bread, French cake and apple crisp.

And your funny little sayings . . . fiddlesticks, horsefeathers.

"sweating like a chicken packing fence posts".

I am so thankful that you are no longer in pain,

that your body is whole and your tears have been wiped away.

But I sure do miss you.

Your love and laughter and values have shaped my life.

You trained me up in the way I should go and though I wandered for a while

I have returned to the faith that you nurtured me in from a babe.

One day, some day, we shall be together again.

I will not be leaning on a cane . . . I will run to you

and hug you long and hard.

The earliest picture I have ever seen of my mom and her sisters . . . taken in 1940.   

Left to right, Agnes Grace (5 ), Jacqueline Della (2) and Lorraine Blanche (7)

 At age 16, Mom and her friend Jill, were off to play tennis . . . love the saddle shoes!

Graduation from business school . . . Mom is 2nd from left.

 Mom was one of the thousands of subjects of renowned street photographer Foncie Pulice.  This was taken on Granville Street in Vancouver, BC when she was in her late teens.  A classic beauty!

Ray Wallace Olsen and Agnes Grace Hawkenson

united in marriage in April of 1954. 

It was his 22nd birthday and she was 19.

And then there were three . . . Kari Jane arrived in July of 1955.  Mom is 20.

My dad, Ray Olsen with big sister Kari, Mom with me, and Mom's sister, Auntie Lorraine.

 Cradled in my mama's arms,  just days old.
They are bringing me home from the hospital. Doesn't she look radiant?

 This is the only picture I have of just me and Mom. The book she is reading me is "The Bible in Pictures for Little Eyes".  This is where my love of the Word began . . . sitting on my Mama's lap.



Left to right -  Me (Andrea Dawn), Mom with Mark Leroy (L) and Martha  Lorraine (R), Kari Jane and Dallas Birk.

  This photo is the favourite of all of her children.  She has just turned 25, just given birth to twins Mark and Martha. Kari, the oldest is 4 and 1/2, I am not yet 3 (almost but not yet) and Dallas is 16 months.  That means three in diapers . . .  yikes!

Mom is just turned 27 here and is one busy lady.  Five kids under six means non-stop laundry and lots of cooking.  Dessert was saved for Sunday's and one of our favourites  was Mom's French Cake.  Below I have posted a scanned image of her handwritten recipe that my sister has . . . this is seriously yummy stuff and a must-have on the Christmas goodies list.

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The new grandma on her 42nd birthday.  

My son, David, was her first grandchild, followed by my daughter Shannon, my niece Katherine and nephews Eric, Jonathon and Brian.  Jon and Brian were born after she died and Katherine and Eric were under a year old at the time of her passing.  Aimee, Eric's older half-sister, called her grandma as well.  How she loved her grandchildren and how I wish they all could have known her better . . . longer.

 This portrait of Mom was painted by her friend in 1982.



This is the last picture I took of my dear Mama . . . snuggling on the couch with my daughter Shannon. Within a few weeks of this photo being taken, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and a few short weeks more she was welcomed home in heaven.



Agnes Grace Olsen was laid to rest in the Burquitlam Cemetery, Coquitlam, BC, October 20, 1984

The following poem was written by her mother, my grandmother, Blanche Guldager about seven years before her death.

AGNES

Agnes  . . . means purity

I did not know or think of this

When I named you

But you were pink and brown

With skin of purest ivory

And I loved you with joy and pride and wonder

As I love you still.

Your hurt is mine

Your joy is mine

You know full well as you're a mother too.

Still your soul is above and beyond

And totally unique

Your own and God's -  to rare to share

Save with the Omnipotent.