The continuation

Did anyone notice that I never mentioned Ida in the previous story. Since her life and my Mother's were tangled in a way, I better go into a little detail about her. Ida was my grandfather's favorite and he was lucky he got to keep her home as long as he did. When she was young she met a handsome youth and fell in love with him. He said to her, let me go to America first and find a place where we would like to live and then I'll come back and marry you and we will live happily forever after.

His last name was Paulsson. He left, and came back when Ida was 50 years old. He followed the gold hysteria and when that died there were other metals that intrigued him, and that's why he was in Colorado when the urge to settle down hit him. I think there was a copper rush, but I think I may be wrong. Anyway, he found Meeker Co. the place that would please Ida, and he went back to get married. And so grandfather lost his housekeeper. He thought he still had one left, but by this time, Mother had three children, with another on the way. She was not as available as Ida had been, and he never let an opportunity pass without telling her that Ida would have seen to it that he never lacked for material or personal things to make him happy. I do not know if he had shown Ida more love when they were youngsters or if it only began when they were adults can witness to the fact that it hurts if you are growing up in that sort of climate.

Mother was the most beautiful of all the children. She was small, had a tiny waist, big black eyes and the most gorgeous chestnut colored hair. And she was very intelligent. But there was some kind of need in her. It was said that while my Father lived she felt so much more adequate. After he died, she found innocent remarks made by her friends hurtful. And then she remembered them forever. And she never forgot. She had a cat who loved her and she loved him. She had a son whom she loved, and he loved her. And she had me, and we never were on the same page, except for her last two years of her life. She tolerated me, but she never loved me.

What my mother did to me, made me what I am. I am lucky that I met Sam and that we has fifty-five years together. Most of them were wonderful, happy years and our children made us mostly proud and grateful.

If my Mother were alive I would be happy to say HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY.