My mom would be 79 years old today. She is an amazing woman who had a lasting influence on so many people. Even though she has been gone for 28 years, I still run into people who remember her and speak very highly of her. I don't remember a lot about her but I do remember how she made me feel. I knew I was loved. The things I do remember I treasure. I remember that she would lose her glasses often, even when they were attached to the chain she wore around her neck. I remember that she would lie on her stomach and look at the Kings ad in front of the fire. I remember watching her flip pancakes early in the morning. I remember Sunday dinners with chicken and potato salad. I remember that when I was sick during the night if I coughed loud enough she would come and get me out of bed and rub vapor rub on my chest and cover it with a warm cloth. I don't remember a lot being said during those moments but I loved that we were together. I remember that she did not wear make up and her hair was rarely "fixed". I remember how she loved her family and was always trying to find ways to keep us close. I remember always knowing that for birthdays or Christmas you could get her a pair of salt and pepper shakers. I remember that one Christmas I wanted to get her something extra special so I used what little money I had to buy her some pot holders. I took the time to embroidery her initial on it. I sewed the letter "M", for mom, to me it was better than her name. I remember her hugs and how they seemed to make everything right.
My fondest wish is for my children to know this beautiful woman who meant the world to me. I take comfort in knowing that she held them before they came to earth and kissed them the way I know she longs to now. I know she is near, I know that she watches over them.
She is a woman I love and admire. She is my mom.
She was born July 9, 1934, the third child and first daughter of Fay and Emma Wasden.
She was known for her red hair and fair skin.
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She married Marvin Nelson on May 10, 1957.
This is the car that my dad drove home from his mission.
Her hands were always busy.
My parents loved each other very much. They weren't openly affectionate very often but there was a deep love. When my mom was sick there was a time when she was in bed and not able to get up. One day my dad spent some time with her just lying by her side. I remember her saying how much she loved that time. My dad adored my mom, he spoke so lovingly of her to me. Yet there was often regret in his words because he was so concerned that he didn't do enough while she was alive. This love was enduring and gifted me with the example of what could be for me one day.
I am forever grateful that I am her daughter, what an honor.
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