In honor of Mother’s Day and My Mom’s 86th birthday…
With love to My Mom, Joyce Nornes.
Memories from our early years together…
Seeing her in that ankle-length light blue dressing gown with the thin ribbon that tied at the neckline. The first time I saw her in it she was walking into our living room carrying my new little baby sister, Lori. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Loving how she’d snuggle into dad’s arms when he got home from a meeting. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, being silly, waiting for dad to just put his arms around her. When he did, she looked so content and cared for.
Visiting her classroom after she’d spent hours decorating with colored construction paper and designing bulletin boards for her second- and third-graders. So much care, time, and pride went into creating an interesting and fun place to learn for her students.
Seeing the tabletop adding machine, pencils, papers, forms, and the cup of coffee as she sat at the kitchen table paying bills and managing the paperwork for the home business. It was usually very late at night, after she’d helped us with studies, attended our basketball games or school plays, and helped us practice piano.
Her wig days. Giggling at how much bigger it was than her real hair, but not thinking it odd that she wore it. Watching her comb it as it sat on the Styrofoam head that had no facial features.
The “Couples Club” parties in our living room. She’d serve blueberry dessert with coffee. We’d sit on the steps in the stairway, listening to the laughter as they played Rook or Pit late into the night.
Going to Camp Joy Bible Camp. Me, my mom, and my sisters. “Mother’s Camp” they called it. Hearing about Jesus and sleeping on thin-mattressed bunk beds in cabins with squeaky screen doors, sandy wood floors, and mosquitoes.
Seeing her on top of the combine or driving truck, helping Dad harvest the wheat. Her face would be covered in black dirt, her skin itching from the chaff. She didn’t care. She was with My Dad…her favorite place to be.
The horrible quiet and heavy sadness after my brother, David, died. Not able to comprehend her grief. Just knowing that she was way too sad. And way too tired.
Roller skating in the living room. She didn’t care back then that the carpet was worn to the burlap. We were having fun.
Staying in the camper at the Minnesota State Fair. The camper was an old school bus painted blue and white. Nothing fancy…but absolutely loved it. Mom and dad worked in the Ag-Hort building and we’d talk to the farmers who loved them.
Reading. Reading. Reading. She was always helping us read. Books with words and pictures. Reading the side of the milk truck when it pulled into the driveway. Reading signs along the highway. Reading the library books. Reading about Dick and Jane. Always reading.
My Mom told me that Jesus loved me. I believed her then. I still believe her.
My Mom told me that she loved me. I believed her then. I still believe her.
So much of who I am is because of My Mom’s heart. Teaching. Sacrifice. Love.
Thank you, Mom.
What an honor to be Your Daughter.
I love you.