February Thoughts

I guess it was meant to be that we started this in February. It is a natural time of the year that I think about Mom. Not that I don't think of her many times at all times of the year, but in the natural human way, I remember her life at this month of her passing (not my favorite term....).

Anyway, since you might be like me, I thought I would include a piece of writing that was published in the old Relief Society Magazine. I am probably the only one of the siblings and grandchildren who have seen one of those (since Todd and Mike were probably not interested in stuff like that and everyone else is too young) but it came out on a regular basis and had articles and contributions from sisters. Here it is.

ELEMENTAL

by Eileen Giberson

I don't care what anybody says: I grew up in Western Oregon and I love the rain.

The sound of rain is beautiful. It makes me feel cozy, curled up in the chair by the fire. Os snuggled under the blankets in my bed. I like to hear it tapping on the roof and at the windowpane.

The sight of rain is refreshing because the world comes greener, and browner, and newer. And to be out in the rain just for a walk with boots and raincoat and umbrella: ah, that is something very special; that is the feel of rain. How I love it.

My children are growing up in Eastern Washington. The sun is their companion. It stays for the winter to brighten the tan, dry days. It coaxes the crocus into bloom in mid-February. It browns the children by May and in July it sends them to the swimming pool in self-defense. When that sun comes out in the cloudless blue sky, it means a good wash day; it means a good play day. Out here in this flat desert land the sun arises early and stay hot and late. I love it.

(published in July 1966)

Being one of the children raised in the deserts of Eastern Washington, I can totally relate to her description of our growing up. Of course, later in life, we learned what "flat" really meant as we moved to west Texas....and others of us have seen places where the sun rises earlier and stays hot later than even Richland, Washington. It wasn't until I was older that I realized what a switch that was for Mom (Grandma) to go from the beauty of Oregon to the barrenness and wind of Richland. I loved going to Oregon and even thought it was pretty, but Richland was our home and I never thought of it as ugly or barren or too windy. It was just a good place to grow up.