After a couple of years, Mom, being the independent one, decided that she again wanted a home of her own and talked to George about property in Elgin, Oregon where he lived. He found a small house with a garden spot and fruit trees, located less than a mile from him and only sixty miles from where I lived. The small house needed major renovation to make it livable. George and I, with the help of Mom’s grandkids, enlarged the bathroom and added new fixtures. George’s daughters pitched in to clean and paint the inside of the house. Appliances installed, drapes hung and new carpet laid throughout.
In August of 1990, Mom, eighty-one years old, made her last move. I can’t say that I was happy about the move. Mom and I had never been close: she was not affectionate like Daddy and she was jealous when my sisters and I openly loved Daddy more than her. He was easy to love, she was not. Mom could be very demanding and controlling and at eighty years old I wasn’t sure how self-sufficient she would be. As she aged, more health issues would appear and I knew that it would fall to me to care for her. My brother was recently divorced and living with Clair, but not married, much to Mom’s dismay. Both of them had a history of drinking too much and I knew problems could arise from that. Red flags were flying all around my head. I decided not to worry about something I had no control over and take one day at a time.
Most of my worry was for naught. The next ten years, Mom did most of her own gardening, which included using the roto-tiller and mowing her lawn. She hired help with the housework. We developed a pattern of George and Clair helping her with certain things and Herb and I helping her with others. Extended family members were always available if we needed more help. I made bimonthly trips to Elgin taking her to doctor appointments and grocery shopping in nearby La Grande. Her favorite place for lunch was “Kentucky Fried Chicken” because the food was always hot, filling and inexpensive.
I worked side by side with her, planting and weeding new flowerbeds. We harvested vegetables, made pickles and turned apples into applesauce. I brought starts home from her flowerbeds and soon planted gardens of my own; with her encouragement I learned more about gardening and began to see the joy it could bring.
Mom loved preserving food and especially liked pressure-cooking meat. She bought turkeys on sale at Thanksgiving time, kept them in the freezer until late winter, then thawed and boned them, packed them in jars and processed them in a vintage pressure cooker bought shortly after she and Daddy were married. She cherished her old pressure cooker, thoroughly washing and drying it before placing it back in storage, as though it were a diamond ring too precious to wear everyday. Along with making jam, canning peaches and pears, and making pickles, I was about to learn how to pressure can meat.to be continued...Hugs To All.,,OWAV:)
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