A very close friend of mine passed away last week. I was asked to write something...and as usual, I was about to panic as the day of the funeral drew nearer, but I managed to come through at the last minute. Here's what I wrote in her guest book on-line at the State Journal Register:
The profound grief we feel now is unexplainable.
The tears aren't.
She touched my life in so many beautiful ways.
Always praising, scolding, mothering, loving unconditionally.
Who of us can say that she didn't have some kind of impact on our lives.
Her relatives, her friends.
She taught me valuable life lessons.....and here's what I learned:
I LEARNED
Where I fit in
Oop, her wonderful husband, always said I was the daughter he never had. Although she never said those exact words, she was like a second mother to me. Although I love my mother, there were just some things that you didn't want to discuss with your Mom.
I LEARNED
The value of family
The precious moments spent with your children
That she loved her sons and granddaughters
John, Jimmy, Calli and Jordan
That she loved any and ALL children
no matter their race, economic background or cleanliness.
ALL children were beautiful in her eyes.
Although she always said she couldn't tell what Angie, my first daughter, looked like because of the pacifier permanently affixed to her mouth
I LEARNED
That she would always be there, through the good times, the not so good times, through the birth of 6 babies. Babies who she said were the most beautiful babies on this earth....and you believed her. Through times of sorrow, times of great happiness, weddings, more babies, new jobs, new houses, new boyfriends, new girlfriends, new husbands and wives..first cars, first motorcycles........new beginnings. It was Hilde who we all wanted to share those things with....First.
I LEARNED
Patience, understanding, tolerance...frugality. Now lets talk a little about the frugality. Oop would say that she still had the first dollar she ever earned. She was the master penny pincher, the master haggler. Everything thing I learned about garage sales was from her. She taught me.....you had to get up at the crack of dawn, you had to turn people away from your front door before the sun came up, you had to watch people dig through your valuable possessions....even though they were only marked a quarter. You had to watch ladies try on the sweater that you really didn't want to get rid of in the first place.
I LEARNED
How to love my children...more
I often reprimanded my older children Nick, Mike and Angie and later my 3 youngest daughters Halee, Ashlee and Kylee, and the countless others who would play in her yard and house, dripping Popsicle juice all over her floor, yelling at the tops of their little voices. When I got irritated at the noise, she'd say...Don't yell at them...that's "happy noise."
I LEARNED
how to make fresh side
how to defrost hamburger in my new microwave
how to cook a roast to perfection
how to make a delicious cake
I LEARNED
that I already knew how to do all of those things,
not the side, but I just loved spending time with her
I LEARNED
to shop at Kmart, Steinberg Baums and Aldi's..
NOT Bressmers, Myers Brothers and Jewel
how to stretch a dollar
how to make a meal out of hamburger and a box of rice
You have to cook the rice first, right Wanda?? (my wonderful ex-mother in law)
I LEARNED
how to take care of a puppy
how to dodge Misty, Queenie, and the countless other yippy, heel biting mutts who would always inevitably hate me.....
how to deal with the death of those animals.
Boots comes to mind first. Laying in the road.....
rain pouring down on the tarp where he took cover..the old man tired of life.
We all have so many memories of this amazing woman.....some of them very funny. Here's are the ones that I'm willing to share:
The digital watch that she thought was broken until my husband, Hank, turned it towards her...rightside up...now it said 7:33 instead of EE7.
The panty hose that crept down her legs during John's wedding reception.
The dishtowel that caught on fire after she threw it on a lit burner...
which we then had to hide from Oopy.
Her love affair with One Eyed Jack,
The off color conversation at Bunco, where us younger girls would have to explain...ummm....things that you usually don't discuss with your elder relatives.
Her first car ride with my son Nick.....white-knuckling it around Bunn Park; then telling him what a good driver he was. That's a whole other story.
I will miss you, my friend, my other mother, my confidante......I received a hilarious email this morning. I wanted to start your day off with a joke to make you smile. I reached for the phone; you're not there. I will miss you unequivocally, reverently, quietly and with the utmost love and admiration.
From the daughter you never had but always will,
Linda Yung Stoutamyer
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Welcome to the neighborhood!!
This is a letter I wrote to the Editor. I don't know the protocol, and I think its too long, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway. Here's what I submitted on April 30th, 2007:
I began this e-mail seething mad. After I started to type, I realized that this story actually had some humor to it and I should put my anger aside and have fun with it. So here goes.
After working long and endless hours, my family finally moved into our new house on North 5th Street. Our first "welcome to the neighborhood" was having our new checks stolen out of our mailbox. We found this out when our friendly banker called to ask my husband if he had written a check to a plumbing supply company for $11,000. We're lucky if we have $11.00 in our checking at times. The checks were recovered in a drug bust and a detective from the SPD returned them to us. Our second "welcome to the neighborhood" was having someone enter our house (we think with a key) and taking gift cards right out of my wallet. Here's how our third, "welcome" panned out. About 3AM last Friday morning, my 14 year old daughter came tearing down the stairs to tell me that there was some strange old guy (40 or 50 or something by her estimate, funny since I'm 53) throwing rocks at her second story bedroom window. He was doing the Springfield Shuffle (a little wobbly I might add) and telling her to come down and that his name was Jimmy. He had red hair and was a little more than intoxicated. He was riding a little dirt bike. When he sensed she wasn't cooperating, he cut through our front yard and fled south on 5th street.
Pandemonium ensued. I was downstairs at the time, couldn't sleep...making sure that my rock star hubby had all his clothes ready for his gig in Elmhurst that night. Yes, girls, I oversee his wardrobe....anyway...I took the stairs two at a time, (pretty hard for a old lady, huh Halee?) with Ashlee on my heels, she's 12 and a scaredy cat like her Mom. We (all four of us) burst into our bedroom, woke Hank (my other half) ...I was saying "call 911", repeatedly....knowing full well the cell was in its usual place on our dresser. So here I was with Hank, Halee, Ashlee, Alie(Halee's friend) and Shadow, a 14 year old, blind in one eye can't see out of the other Pekeapoo, all stumbling over one another in the dark. We looked like the Keystone Cops. So, we called the police. A nice (cute too) officer responded promptly. He took our info and relayed it back to whomever he talks to on that thingy on his shoulder. He said, "The intruder was labeled a trespasser" , and if he returns he'll go to jail and all of us "Northenders by marriage", Southenders by birth, will be safe again.
So, what next? This past Thursday two of my daughters and I made a dash over to QikNEz in the pouring rain. When we returned my daughters bicycle that she got for her 9th birthday was gone, (please don't say that it was her fault because she should have taken it in when we left because you'll sound just like my ever optimistic husband). So here we go again, called SPD, dispatch sent officer out, he took a report and they'll keep their eyes open. OK...here's the funny part. Last night, we went over to QiknEz again. I was chatting with Toni, the nice lady behind the counter. I was telling her about Kylee's bike. As I was relating my tale of woe, a strange look came over her face. She said "wait a minute...I think I've seen that bicycle." She walked around the back of the store towards the area where they put the trash (right adjacent to the SPD sub-station). Here she comes, wheeling Kylee's bike out. I almost cried. There is was is all its splendor, albeit missing a seat, which was gone anyway when the thief took it. I hope you had an uncomfortable ride. Ashlee and I wheeled it home. Bicycle - $29.99, new seat - $15, Kylee's face when she saw her bike - Priceless.
So, in closing, I want to thank: Two very, observant QikNEz employees, Toni and some really nice guy who gives me pennies when I'm short on change. The Springfield Police Department, in particular, Officers Bob Oglesby, Cloyd, Chris Vollmer, Jen and Zed Langen, the nice detective who returned our checks minus 1, and others whose names I can't recall. Some of those officers helped us out on another matter, but that's a little private for me to divulge in print. Just for the record, Officers Oglesby and the Langens are my husbands little brother, little sister and brother-in-law respectively. As a side note, my husband's father, Harry Stoutamyer, is a 27 year veteran of the SPD.
I love my house on the Northend. I love living by The Dollar Tree, Aldi's, QiknEz, the nail salon, Mel-O-Cream, Family Dollar, just to name a few. I hope I can grow old here with my twin grandbabies, swinging on my front porch. I hope my girls are thrilled that, for the first time in their lives, they don't have to share a bedroom. I hope that people in this neighborhood will walk by our house and say, "Wow, look at all the hard work they put into this place". I hope that this is a safe haven where my 6 children and their respective significant others can feel comfortable walking into Mom's and Dad's without knocking like I do at my Mom's...still, i.e., Captain Nick Babiak, KC-135 Pilot, USAF, Greg and Angie Babiak Lyons, proud parents of the tornado babies, Camryn and Parker, born about 4 days before the tornado blew through Springfield last March, Michael Babiak, (only kid out of the bunch who looks like me) with a good job, a pretty girlfriend and not a bad drummer.
I know that all this could of happened in any other neighborhood on any side of town, so please don't inundate me with irate letters. I know that I'm deliriously happy here in my new house. I know that my flowers and veggies will sprout, no matter what side of town this is. I know my children are genuinely happy here, I know that all the neighborhood kids can count on me to pass out popsicles, cookies, uncooked ears of white sweetcorn, Kool-Aid, and any other food that I might have on hand. And finally, I know that my husband is SO thankful that I'm happy again, cause if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
Maybe I should write my own column.
Thanks for listening,
Linda, Hank, Halee, Ashlee, Kylee and Shadow Stoutamyer
Proud Northenders
Havent heard if they're going to publish this or not, but I'll keep my eyes open!
I began this e-mail seething mad. After I started to type, I realized that this story actually had some humor to it and I should put my anger aside and have fun with it. So here goes.
After working long and endless hours, my family finally moved into our new house on North 5th Street. Our first "welcome to the neighborhood" was having our new checks stolen out of our mailbox. We found this out when our friendly banker called to ask my husband if he had written a check to a plumbing supply company for $11,000. We're lucky if we have $11.00 in our checking at times. The checks were recovered in a drug bust and a detective from the SPD returned them to us. Our second "welcome to the neighborhood" was having someone enter our house (we think with a key) and taking gift cards right out of my wallet. Here's how our third, "welcome" panned out. About 3AM last Friday morning, my 14 year old daughter came tearing down the stairs to tell me that there was some strange old guy (40 or 50 or something by her estimate, funny since I'm 53) throwing rocks at her second story bedroom window. He was doing the Springfield Shuffle (a little wobbly I might add) and telling her to come down and that his name was Jimmy. He had red hair and was a little more than intoxicated. He was riding a little dirt bike. When he sensed she wasn't cooperating, he cut through our front yard and fled south on 5th street.
Pandemonium ensued. I was downstairs at the time, couldn't sleep...making sure that my rock star hubby had all his clothes ready for his gig in Elmhurst that night. Yes, girls, I oversee his wardrobe....anyway...I took the stairs two at a time, (pretty hard for a old lady, huh Halee?) with Ashlee on my heels, she's 12 and a scaredy cat like her Mom. We (all four of us) burst into our bedroom, woke Hank (my other half) ...I was saying "call 911", repeatedly....knowing full well the cell was in its usual place on our dresser. So here I was with Hank, Halee, Ashlee, Alie(Halee's friend) and Shadow, a 14 year old, blind in one eye can't see out of the other Pekeapoo, all stumbling over one another in the dark. We looked like the Keystone Cops. So, we called the police. A nice (cute too) officer responded promptly. He took our info and relayed it back to whomever he talks to on that thingy on his shoulder. He said, "The intruder was labeled a trespasser" , and if he returns he'll go to jail and all of us "Northenders by marriage", Southenders by birth, will be safe again.
So, what next? This past Thursday two of my daughters and I made a dash over to QikNEz in the pouring rain. When we returned my daughters bicycle that she got for her 9th birthday was gone, (please don't say that it was her fault because she should have taken it in when we left because you'll sound just like my ever optimistic husband). So here we go again, called SPD, dispatch sent officer out, he took a report and they'll keep their eyes open. OK...here's the funny part. Last night, we went over to QiknEz again. I was chatting with Toni, the nice lady behind the counter. I was telling her about Kylee's bike. As I was relating my tale of woe, a strange look came over her face. She said "wait a minute...I think I've seen that bicycle." She walked around the back of the store towards the area where they put the trash (right adjacent to the SPD sub-station). Here she comes, wheeling Kylee's bike out. I almost cried. There is was is all its splendor, albeit missing a seat, which was gone anyway when the thief took it. I hope you had an uncomfortable ride. Ashlee and I wheeled it home. Bicycle - $29.99, new seat - $15, Kylee's face when she saw her bike - Priceless.
So, in closing, I want to thank: Two very, observant QikNEz employees, Toni and some really nice guy who gives me pennies when I'm short on change. The Springfield Police Department, in particular, Officers Bob Oglesby, Cloyd, Chris Vollmer, Jen and Zed Langen, the nice detective who returned our checks minus 1, and others whose names I can't recall. Some of those officers helped us out on another matter, but that's a little private for me to divulge in print. Just for the record, Officers Oglesby and the Langens are my husbands little brother, little sister and brother-in-law respectively. As a side note, my husband's father, Harry Stoutamyer, is a 27 year veteran of the SPD.
I love my house on the Northend. I love living by The Dollar Tree, Aldi's, QiknEz, the nail salon, Mel-O-Cream, Family Dollar, just to name a few. I hope I can grow old here with my twin grandbabies, swinging on my front porch. I hope my girls are thrilled that, for the first time in their lives, they don't have to share a bedroom. I hope that people in this neighborhood will walk by our house and say, "Wow, look at all the hard work they put into this place". I hope that this is a safe haven where my 6 children and their respective significant others can feel comfortable walking into Mom's and Dad's without knocking like I do at my Mom's...still, i.e., Captain Nick Babiak, KC-135 Pilot, USAF, Greg and Angie Babiak Lyons, proud parents of the tornado babies, Camryn and Parker, born about 4 days before the tornado blew through Springfield last March, Michael Babiak, (only kid out of the bunch who looks like me) with a good job, a pretty girlfriend and not a bad drummer.
I know that all this could of happened in any other neighborhood on any side of town, so please don't inundate me with irate letters. I know that I'm deliriously happy here in my new house. I know that my flowers and veggies will sprout, no matter what side of town this is. I know my children are genuinely happy here, I know that all the neighborhood kids can count on me to pass out popsicles, cookies, uncooked ears of white sweetcorn, Kool-Aid, and any other food that I might have on hand. And finally, I know that my husband is SO thankful that I'm happy again, cause if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
Maybe I should write my own column.
Thanks for listening,
Linda, Hank, Halee, Ashlee, Kylee and Shadow Stoutamyer
Proud Northenders
Havent heard if they're going to publish this or not, but I'll keep my eyes open!
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