One Hundred and Three Years Ago...

The most influential person in my life was born. Her name was Nora.

She was raised on a farm in Spokane, Washington, and spent at least part of her childhood living and working in the household of another family due to poverty. At the age of twenty, she married a singer named William. They were married under both his legal name and his stage name, and later, after they converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, they were sealed for time and all eternity in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Nora and William (or Bill) loved to explore the surrounding countryside on their motorcycle. When their first child was born, they got a sidecar and kept exploring. In all they had four children. Their youngest was my father.

Their household was a place of music and creativity. Bill played the violin, guitar, mandolin, banjo and ukulele, and Nora played the piano, organ, recorder, melodica and concertina and she sometimes sang along with her husband. She had a low singing voice, while Bill was a high tenor, so he often sang the higher part, while she took the lower. When my father was in high school, Nora decided to pursue her education. Her educational endeavors did not stop with a bachelors degree, and she eventually went on to complete a Masters degree in Psychology along with a degree in Nutrition. During her many years of study, she also painted oil paintings, some of which were sold, and more that were displayed in their home. Bill had a talent for carpentry and made beautiful frames for her paintings, which was another example of their unity as a couple. They collaborated on other projects as well, and they were my best example growing up of what a loving marriage is.

Nora loved language. She studied Japanese as well as Norwegian. She was an avid genealogist, and the latter helped her in tracing Bill's genealogy, much of which was found in books that were only written in Norwegian. I remember her saying "Velbekommen" before meals would start, which was our signal that we could begin eating and translates to "enjoy your meal". She loved travelling and other cultures, and she also loved animals and nature.

Later in life, she had some serious health problems, but I can remember her taking us on walks in the hills around their neighborhood, refusing to let pain keep her down. In some ways she was a stern, tough woman. She was quick with a reminder to sit up straight at the dinner table, and as children, we knew not to mess with her. But I never felt fear of her, and I only felt special and loved when I was around her. Grandma's house was a constant in my childhood, and Grandma's love was something that I never doubted. Her house was my favorite place growing up. It was fire engine red, with crescent moon shutters, and was a place of magic to me. It was full of paintings, musical instruments, books, safety, and love. My family moved every few years in my early childhood, and I never dream of the homes we lived in, but I revisit Grandma's house in my dreams. A couple of weeks ago I got an unexpected opportunity to pass by the house, and even though it is no longer red and the moon shutters are long gone, it still made me tear up to see it, and my mind was flooded with happy memories.

Grandma passed away when I was 14 years old. It is a little bit unbelievable to me that I have had to spend more than 2/3 of my life without her. But when it comes down to it, I have never really been without her. She remains a constant in my life. I think of her frequently. Her examples taught me perseverance, overcoming trials, dedication to my marriage and to my religion, a love for music, for creativity, and the beauties of nature, that it is never too late to learn, and that learning should be a lifelong pursuit. My dream is to be as well rounded and wonderful a person as she was, and to help others feel loved the way she made me feel that I was loved. Even though I have not seen her with my physical eyes for 31 years, I feel her influence in my life daily, and every so often, I dream that I am sitting across from Grandma, just talking to her. I can never remember what we talked about when I wake up, but I always remember the feeling of love, and I like to think that I got to spend a little bit of time with her, despite the separation that her death has brought to us.

I know she was not perfect. Nobody is. She had flaws just like everyone else. But if I can be half the person she was, I think I will be on the right track.