Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and it seems that the older I get, the more I miss my mother. My children did not have the opportunity to really know her since she died when my oldest daughter was nine and she had been very sick and not herself, for more than a decade. She was very different in temperament and personality from me, but her influence on me was profound.

Esther Johnson was the 12th child of John Peter Johnson and Solrun (Lula) Gudmundsson on November 13, 1913. Her Mother had just turned 48 years old. I was born four months before she turned 40. My Father said that it had taken him 6 months to convince her to have another baby.

She was a wonderful balance to my father. Dad said that she made him feel calm and peaceful. Quiet and gentle, she brought a feeling of safety and security to him and others. She was shy and put little or no pressure on others to be different than they were. I never felt "not okay" in her presence. There was never a negative judgment. She had the great ability to just accept people as they were. This was not overt but just the way she was. I doubt that there was ever anyone who was hurt or offended in any way by my mother.

She was sensitive and it was hard for me to see her be hurt by things that my Father would sometimes say or by her children's bad choices. Her, "Oh Esther" when I had done something I shouldn't, would cut me to the quick. When events/actions of some of my older siblings caused her to cry, I made a covenant with myself to never do those things and never be responsible for causing her that kind of pain.

She was also a great teacher to me. Again it was not in a didactic way. In a very quiet, humble and obedient way she was able to nurture my testimony. In our small rural branch of the church (in Rainier), we would have primary opening exercises on Sunday and then our mothers would teach us the lessons at home. I don't think I every missed a lesson. She would come to my bedroom - a very small attic room and sit on the end of my bed and we would have the lesson. She helped me learn all of my scriptures (12 a year) and complete all of my requirements for my bandlo. This included teaching me how to cross stitch and crochet - things that were very hard for her. This demonstrated to me the importance of consistency and obedience in attending and participating in church. From time to time we would have little Primary activities and there was never a question about whether we would make the effort and go. It was just what we did. It is important to note that all the time I was growing up, my Father was inactive. It was my mother that taught me the gospel.

She was always responsible and dedicated to the Church and always accepted the church callings she was given. She always did her visiting teaching and loved Relief Society. She read the Relief Society magazine and supported all Relief Society activities and projects - working hard, talking, laughing and showing me by her behaviour that the best, most important friends were sisters in the gospel. It showed me how to develop deep roots, not just in the gospel but in the community of the church. This has never wavered. Even when I was in times or places when I didn't feel like I was "Molly Mormon" enough and didn't really fit, I never left. I always have known that what I share with my Relief Society sisters is a bond that goes way beyond, day to day interests or external appearances. It is deeper, spiritual and eternal.


I was a difficult and challenging child for her - so different in many ways than herself. She was so patient - never came close to yelling or even raising her voice. Never any tone of voice that would compromise how I felt about myself. If I didn't do something that I was supposed to do, she would not ask me, she would just do it herself. Whatever I wanted to do, she supported and encouraged me.

She was dedicated to giving service to her family. Cooking, cleaning and caring for us. Life in relation to these things was much different in the 60s - wringer washers, clotheslines, no microwaves or dishwashers, paste wax for the linoleum floors that could only put on by hand. Everything was more work. We had wonderful, wholesome food. Nothing but homemade bread - everything made from scratch. Sunday dinner was an event every week with homemade buns, apple pie, garden grown vegetables and of course roast beef we had raised.

My mother showed perfect loyalty and love to her husband. Her advice to me when I got married was to never say anything negative about my husband. That certainly had been her example and my father was not always easy to live with. She supported him in whatever he needed - her time, her love and affection, and doing work with animals. She was pretty timid around animals. I never saw her ride a horse. She had fallen off one and had another run away with her. On round-up, she was always in the pick-up truck or walking. One big rangy yearling Holstein steer who we had fed on the bucket the year before recognized her and started to try to follow her. I can remember her trying to get away and telling "Ferdinand" (the name we had given him) to get away. As far as he was concerned, she was his mother.

When I was little, she read me stories, provided me with a wealth of dress-up clothes and books to read and catered to my many opinions - fluorescent socks, purple dresses, and bright red lipstick and ear rings. She saved whole milk for just me - I hated skim. She cooked other meals for me when we had liver or pea soup. She made me bowls of sugar and butter to eat and did her best to get me where I needed to be when the roads and weather were bad.

I never saw my mother perform but as a young girl she was skilled and talented at "elocution" something I greatly enjoy. She played basketball and was athletic. She told me not to stop using my talents because she regretted letting some of her talents go, disappear she thought. This had happened because of her focus on her husband and family. When I left home she had cared for children for 35 years. Her comment is about balance - a constant challenge for all women. How much do we give to others? How much to ourselves? When does giving to others have us lose ourselves? How long do we postpone our own talent development? These are still questions I struggle with.

Tomorrow, I wish I could sit down with my mother and talk to her and tell her how much I love her. I would tell her how much I appreciate the loving example she lived and the path she set me on. I have a happy family, a close and intimate relationship with my husband, deep and close relationships with other wonderful and spiritual women, confidence in myself and my abilities, career success, many rewarding talents and most important of all things, a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I have these many blessings, very much because of what I learned from my mother. The older I become, the more I realize this and have come to appreciate how very much she sacrificed for me and how very, very fortunate I am.