Friday, December 7, 2012

100 Things I remember about my mom. By Jacob CML Lewis


When I began to write down these tender memories, I didn't think I could make it to 100. When I was finished typing, however, I couldn't believe how much there was to remember about my mom. I will always love her and will do my best to honor her.


1.      The three most important things I remember most about mom was: Family, The Gospel & The United States of America.
2.      If there was a fourth, it would be chocolate covered nuts.
3.      The fifth would be BYU.
4.      Her brown permed hair.
5.      Her excited response to no matter what you would tell her.
6.      When she would call for dad when he didn't have his hearing aid in: "Dad. Daddy! WAYNE!"
7.      Cottage cheese on chili or spaghettio's
8.      The way her Spaghetti tasted, YUM!
9.      When she would heat up pot pies and put them on rice.
10.  Her helping me with my school project, that was due the week before.
11.  Saying "I didn't know that. Dad did you know that?" When I told her something I just learned for the first time.
12.  That sweet, sweet smile.
13.  The red fingernails scratching your back.
14.  When she would impersonate Jimmy Stewart's line from Mr. Kruger's Christmas "A a a bass."
15.  The way she quoted lines from any movie, especially What's Up Doc!.
16.  The way she would grab her heart and sigh when a particular song or movie came on.
17.  The way she lovingly looked back at my father.
18.  The way she would 'pift' whenever something inappropriate happened.
19.  How she had the house on Terrace Dr painted pink and the inside walls painted bright colors to remind her of Arizona.
20.  That no matter what house we lived in, you could always find the wall of family photos.
21.  When she would repeat Dutch words.
22.  Her love of grave sites and her reverence there.
23.  The way she placed her dolls for display.
24.  When she would say "mmm bye" instead of just bye on the telephone.
25.  Her love of flowers, especially roses.
26.  Her moo moos.
27.  The twinkle in her eye.
28.  Her cheerful voice on the phone.
29.  Her love of Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.
30.  The crush she had on Tyrone Power in her teens.
31.  The countless items of tender jewelry she wore. From her rings to her bracelets to her ear rings to her necklaces. She didn't wear them to look important or fancy, for each piece had a special meaning and she wore those items that she wanted to remember.
32.  The way she said: "I love you." as she stared right up into your eyes.
33.  How much she loved to sit as a family and watch an episode from the Dick Van Dyke show or the I Love Lucy Show, and watching her giggle through them.
34.  How her spiritual dial was always turned up to full blast.
35.  Her love of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, which her father sang in when he was younger.
36.  The stories she would tell us about our ancestors.
37.  The way she celebrated and decorated for holidays that nobody cared about:
38.  For Presidents Day she would have pictures of the presidents all over the house.
39.  For Memorial Day we would go and visit the grave sites of our families.
40.  For Veterans Day she would have an unproclaimed WWII movie marathon.
41.  For Thanksgiving the house would be decked out with Pilgrims and turkeys.
42.  The way she would blast the house with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir every Sunday morning to get us out of bed.
43.  The way she morphed the home for Christmas on the outside and inside with two Christmas trees, her snow village, nutcrackers and countless other items.
44.  The way she treated the in-laws as her own children.
45.  The way she treated each of us as her only child.
46.  The way she fit into your arms when you hugged her.
47.  The AVON products in the bathroom.
48.  Her fingernails painted with Y's on them for game day.
49.  The way she sang the BYU fight song with her fists punching the air.
50.  How she would take care of me when I was sick.
51.  The way she tenderly placed Neosporin on an open wound.
52.  When she would take me out in the neighborhood to put AVON pamphlets on every door knob, and then we would go out to buy basketball cards afterwards.
53.  Seeing her in the back row at my performances, because she chose to put everything off at the last moment to come see me.
54.  Seeing her pull into the front of the school in the little blue Rav 4 to pick me up.
55.  The moment when she clutched my hand, as we began to slide down from Terrace Dr. on the ice.
56.  When we would go up into the mountains to see the leaves change color.
57.  Waking my mom up from a nap, knowing that my life was in danger of another frantic maul.
58.  When she would make Postum for us during the winter before we left for school, and the toast wedges that we would dip in them.
59.  I also remember how she would turn on the oven just for me, so that I could put my legs on the open door to warm up.
60.  When she moved to the room in the basement so that Grandma & Grandpa Lewis could have their room upstairs.
61.  Her love of dancing.
62.  The way she would hug you as if it was the last hug, especially within the last three years.
63.  Coming into the home to see mom either doing the bills, the meds, typing up a patriarchal blessing or just watching a movie. At her side would be all kind of snacks.
64.  One of the snacks was her all-time favorite: Lays chips with yogurt.
65.  The red cough medicine spray.
66.  Her beautiful, and surprisingly legible, cursive penmanship.
67.  I remember helping her make the bed on Briar and Terrace Dr. with all of the frilly bedding and pillows. Every pillow had to go on a certain way.
68.  Seeing her face on Christmas Day as she watched us tear through our presents.
69.  Watching Luke II, at her request, on Christmas morning and feeling a spirit that I would never forget.
70.  The way she would kiss dad.
71.  The way her hands would feel so soft.
72.  How she reminded me of Josephine Hull.
73.  The massive VHS collection of Disney movies.
74.  Her love of anything made by Walt Disney.
75.  That whenever she told you to watch a particular movie, that movie would always change your life.
76.  Her love of the Boy Scouts of America and how she motivated me to finish my eagle and get my merit badges. I am forever grateful for that.
77.  How she would pick out an actor in a scene that they did the Temple Work for.
78.  When we would look through her annual Year In Review edition of the encyclopedia, to find out who had passed away. Each year she would give at least ten “oh, not them!”
79.  Having this conversation: "Hey Mom." / "Hiiiiiiiiiii" / "How are you doing" / "Good!" All while she attempts to get up from the bed in pain.
80.  Her contagious laugh that sounded just like Grandma Genevie's laugh.
81.  Her fantastic intelligence. Her memory was amazing and she seemed to know anything about everything.
82.  The way she could apply any event to the gospel.
83.  The short drives we would take past the homes we used to live in or that our ancestors did.
84.  Her heavily marked scriptures.
85.  I remember the way she would hang on to things when you would ask to borrow it: A movie, a book, a CD, a photo.
86.  Her love of history. She had a way of applying any historical event to God's Kingdom on earth.
87.  How dad was the only one to tell me how much pain she was in.
88.  The way she treated each grandchild as if they were not only her favorite grandchild, but the only grandchild.
89.  I remember how much she hated gossip, and how she would deflect it with: "That is so sad."
90.  That no matter where she was or what was happening, she would stop, stand as straight as possible, place her hand on her heart and repeat the Pledge of Allegiance if it began to play. I distinctly remember being late to school a few times if she discovered that it was playing on the BYU campus as we drove through it.
91.  How every bad thing done by her child was erased from her memory as if it never happened.
92.  How she loved you more for what you were (her child and a child of God) then what you were doing.
93.  Her contagious Christ-like attitude.
94.  How anyone that knew her, was honored to know her.
95.  Her unwavering honesty and obedience.
96.  The way she would comb your hair with her fingers as you cried in her lap.
97.  Her comforting presence that made you feel everything was going to be okay.
98.  How every hobby she had was more than a hobby, it was a passion: Her dolls, her movies, the holidays & her family.
99.  Her optimism that changed lives, comforted your soul, and moved mountains.
100. That her best friend was the Savior, and that knowing her, helped you know Him better

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