Things my mother taught me

Today is the third anniversary of my mother's death so I thought I'd honor her by sharing some of things she taught me about green living... and some things I taught her in her later years.

Harold and Gene Haatainen in the backyard where I ate bugs

Being green was not a "thing" when I was growing up. Yet, I was raised with an appreciation of nature that started during the countless hours I spent in my playpen in my backyard in Manheim, Pennsylvania. The youngest of three girls, I was often left to entertain myself outside and, from stories I've been told, I ate my share of caterpillars and other bugs while out there. Yum. And yet, I was the pickiest eater EVER as I got older. My poor mother catered to my pickyness for years and there were many meals where I simply ate bread with molasses (for the iron).

The thing about our refrigerator and cupboards was that the food she bought (and grew in the garden) did not get wasted. My mom set a good example.

I remember the year she decided to start a vegetable garden. We dug it up, raked it, and planted it. Eventually, we built a small fence around it to keep the bunnies out. I loved spending time with my mom in the garden. Even though there was very little there that I would eat, I still relished going out there and picking peas and beans and tomatoes. Perhaps that's why I enjoy it still today.

Possibly the best environmental gift my mother gave me was our mutual love of hanging laundry on the line. I discovered my passion for the smell of sun-dried sheets as I crawled into bed in my childhood home. It remains my favorite smell on earth.

Mom continued line-drying clothing and sheets into her 80s. She even line-dried her towels, reducing her carbon footprint long before that phrase was ever uttered. I loved that about Mom.

She also made much of our clothing, using leftover scraps of fabric to make doll clothes, so nothing was wasted. I never truly appreciated that when I was young, but I sure do now. Her skill with the sewing machine was not inherited by me, but I do have her old Singer. Maybe some day I'll channel her creative energy and make some clothing for my grandbabies... or their dolls.

Unlike many elderly people, my mom was open to learning new things. When I told her about how toxic fabric softener was, she stopped using it. Same with some of her cleaning supplies. When I'd visit her, I'd find gallon jugs of distilled white vinegar. And it made my heart happy.

She even tried apple cider vinegar for acid reflux, but just couldn't handle it. At least she tried. 

And... during her last decade or so, Mom never went out to the store without her reusable bags. How awesome is that?

On this anniversary of losing her, I can't tell you how much I miss her. There are days I still dissolve onto the floor in a puddle of tears. I never thought it would hurt this much. But it's good to reflect on her life, so I thank you for indulging me and reading this post.

I would love it if you'd share some of your own stories in the comments below to cheer me up a bit. In what way did your mom demonstrate green living for you? 

TBT -- Thoughts on the death of my mom

This week's Throwback Thursday takes us back to this date two years ago -- January 15, 2013. The day my mother died. These were some of my thoughts one week after she died. 

 

Saying goodbye

For those of you who haven't heard, my mother died last week. Bill and I traveled across the state on January 5th to spend her 86th birthday with her on the 7th. Our plan was to return home on the 8th, but we extended our visit through the 10th. Two days later, my mom suffered 3 massive strokes and went into a coma. She never regained consciousness. At 8:53 a.m. Tuesday, January 15th, her heart slowed down until it just stopped beating. She died peacefully.

While she was in a coma, I talked to her, rubbed her feet and arms, kissed her face and sang to her. She loved the song, "If He Walked into My Life Today" from Mame. I think it reminded her of my dad. While I couldn't possibly match Eydie Gorme's voice, I sang it anyway. Then I sang a song that always made her cry. Growing up as part of the congregation of Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church in Manheim, PA (the Red Rose Church), my sisters and I sang in the Children's Choir. Every year, we sang "Let There Be Peace on Earth." It wasn't just the song that Mom loved; it was also the memory of her sweet little girls singing their hearts out in the choir loft behind the majestic pipe organ. I fought back my own tears as I leaned over her bed singing the words to her... funny how I'd never picked up on one of the last lines of the song before -- "To take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally..." The word pierced my heart. I wasn't ready to let her go. I wasn't ready for her to transition into eternity. I just wasn't ready.

On Saturday, my husband closed out her memorial service by singing "Let There Be Peace On Earth." It wasn't quite the same as if my sisters and I had sang it, but it was probably just as difficult for him to do. Bill loved my mom. And she loved him.

Of the past 17 days, I spent 15 of them in my hometown. In addition to saying goodbye to my mom, I also have to say goodbye to my childhood home. It's not easy. Our house in Manheim was a gathering place for all of us. My niece, who lives in NYC, and my nephew, from Vegas, consider it home. My own children have years worth of memories there. Even my mom's great-grandchildren love going there. 

As we sorted through Mom's things, we each took special items... items that will remind us, not only of her, but of our history in that house. It was the house where I wrote my first poem. The house where I discovered my love of writing. And of birds. It was where I learned about family and forgiveness and resilience. I nursed my own broken heart there time and time again. And it was the place where I launched dreams in that same heart. Let me tell you... it's not easy to let go.

As much as I'm not unfamiliar with grief, I am not familiar with what is ahead. I suspect the pain will knock me down at unexpected moments. That is why I'm asking for your grace. Postings may be sporadic for awhile. But I'll be back to my daily postings eventually. I just need a bit of time to reflect, to mourn and to get my bearings. My mother and my home were constants in my life. I think I'm about to lose my footing.

Hana

My favorite posts of 2013

Well, here we are on the final day of 2013. It's been quite a year. I must admit, in many ways, it's been one of the most difficult years for me personally. Losing my mom on January 15th set me on a path of grief unlike any I've ever experienced. At times, the pain threatened to swallow me whole and I wondered how I would go on.

Throughout the months, I shared bits of my journey. Now that we've reached the end of the year, I thought we'd revisit some of my favorite posts of 2013. I've included the links to bits of my grief journey for any of you who may be experiencing something similar. My hope is for you to find some comfort in the universality of our journey. 

Below those links are links to other topics I feel passionate about. I hope you'll find the time to read or reread some of Green Grandma's favorite posts. 

My grandbabies -- the reason I do what I do. And my husband -- without whom I'd be lost.

January

Saying Goodbye  -- The beginning of my grief journey

The surprising hiding places for triclosan -- This dangerous toxin is in more than just antibacterial soap!

February

Sharing a little bit more of my currently broken heart -- A rawer look at the journey

Fracking, bottled water, and Keurig Cups -- not seeing eye-to-eye -- How a discussion at church led to a rant

March

Returning to an empty house -- What it was like to go home again

The iPotty ... Tell me it isn't so! -- High tech toilet training. Yikes!

April

Monday Morning Reflections -- There's no place like home -- Experiencing joy again, at least for the time being

Are you still using plastic grocery bags? Why? -- An attempt to motivate readers to shop with reusable bags

Something went terribly wrong -- My reflections on the tragedy in Boston during the marathon

May

Life. It goes on -- I survived my first Mother's Day without my mom... and I gleaned some grains of joy

Vinegar Friday -- In honor of moms -- Tips on using vinegar from moms in the community

June 

A grandfather clock, a family of bluebirds, and a lifelong friend -- In the midst of the grief journey, friends can be the most valuable asset

An airplane, a squirmy toddler, and a random act of kindness -- How getting the last seat on the plane to Chicago ended up being a huge blessing

July

To everything there is a season... -- Delayed grief. It can be brutal

A game of hide-and-seek with SC Johnson -- Revealing the truth about toxins in popular products

August

Hmmm. This is the first month I didn't blog about my grief journey.

Screen time and toddlers: How much is too much? --What do researchers say?

September

Another month without a nod to my grief

Grandparents Day -- Hype or ...  -- The value of grandparents

October

We need a David to take down Goliath -- The fight against Monsanto -- it's a fight we must win!

November

Hero in Aisle Six -- A poem to honor our veterans -- Sharing one of my poems to honor our heroes

December

From coal to diamonds... saying goodbye -- The final visit to my childhood home

Fired up on Vinegar Friday -- Expressing some outrage over the Fisher-Price Newborn-to-Toddler Apptivity Seat

Thicker than Blood -- The story of a courtship -- mine and my husband's to be exact!

Thanks for sticking with me this year. It was a tough one, but I'm looking ahead to a fantastic 2014. Let's make it greener and healthier... the common sense way!

Sharing a little bit more of my currently broken heart

From my Mary Engelbreit Page-a-Day Calendar

February's here and I'm not quite sure where January went. Being gone for a total of 15 days certainly accounts for some of my wondering. And wading through the murky waters of grief accounts for the rest.


Yesterday was a particularly bad day. I did okay at church and at lunch with the kids and grandkids. It was on the drive home with my husband that I started to grow distant. I headed out to do some shopping after dropping him off. I think I just wanted to be alone for a bit. The shopping didn't help. I wandered around the store, dropping an occasional item in my cart, and I felt loss. My mother died. I couldn't seem to get past that thought, although it had variations. My mom died. My mommy died. Mommy! Tears veiled my eyes, but did not spill out. It was that kind of surreal experience. This is not really happening. I almost resolved to take out my cell phone and call home. Not my current home, but the home I grew up in. The home I could return to anytime in the 38 years since I left. The home where my mother lives... lived. I wanted to dial that oh-so-familiar number and hear her say "Hello." I wanted to erase this past month. I wanted. I wanted. I wanted. 

Laying in bed last night, I started thinking about the last time I walked this path. The time when my 34-year-old husband died. How did I do it? How did I survive the pain? I must admit, I'm amazed that I did. 

And here we go again. The journey of grief. The pathway of longing. The gateway of regret.

And that was my Sunday. I trust yours was much cheerier. I would love to hear about it. So tell me, what made you smile yesterday?

Sharing my heart,

Hana