On Mother's Day memories, special Grandmas and friendship

Mothers Day 2003.

For some, this day will be filled with smiles and laughter - children, grandchildren and great-grandchilden recalling shared experiences with a person who has been a constant 'friend' during good times and bad.

New memories will be made; stories to be told and retold for future generations.

For others, Mother's Day brings more tears than joy. There will be empty places at dinner tables around Clinton County - moms, grandmas and great-grandmas will be missed, but not forgotten.

An occasion like today reopens wounded hearts and souls - more scar tissue is created.

Still, even in the midst of sadness, the mind's eye can produce images of the mothers and other maternal persons who are no longer present in a physical sense. They continue to be integral parts of each families - a touchstone with the past and guide for the future.

This is certainly the case on a personal level. Although my paternal grandmother, Dorothea Kloeckner, passed away when I was quite young, she remains in my mind as a perfect 'Grandma' figure from a bygone era - always wearing an apron, hosiery and black shoes with sturdy, block heels. Look in any photo album in any 'German' heritage home in Clinton County, and you will see my Grandma Kloeckner smiling back at you.

The mental image of my maternal grandmother, Doretta Witt, is nearly identical - same apron, hosiery (even on the hottest of summer days) and stocky black shoes; same determined German face. Since she was still alive until I myself was a mother - and because I spent nearly every waking hour during the summer months when I was young near her house at 'Forest Hill' - my mind's picture book of Grandma is filled to overflowing.

Working in one of several gardens she and my grandpa had - always wearing a straw hat, hoeing in the various vegetable beds and talking over the fence (frequently in German) with her neighbors, Elsie Horman and Herman and Emelie Hauser.

Rocking slowly back and forth in one of several rocking chairs in the living room, sometimes with a cold cloth tied tightly around her forehead - a "headache remedy."

Rolling out dough for noodles to dry on the kitchen table that was covered with newspaper - more than likely an issue of the Clinton County Republican-News, saved expressly for that purpose.

Chicken dinner each and every Sunday after church - the dried noodles now swimming in rich, succulent broth and served as either 'thick noodles' with carrots, or in chicken soup.

More white sugar cookies - each with a walnut half pressed in its middle - than I could ever possibly count, all rolled and cut out to bake with her sturdy, knarled hands.

The list could go on and on - so many memories, most of which, I'm willing to bet, are etched just as firmly in the minds of nearly every Clinton County family. What a blessing these ladies have been for all of us - they are our best friends.

In thinking about the friendship aspect of motherhood, I came across a passage written by an anonymous author that is contained in a book which a very good friend gave me several years ago. It seems like an appropriate Mother's Day missive, and is reprinted here - feel free to substitute "Mom" for friend if you like.

"To have a friend is to have one of the sweetest gifts; to be a friend is to experience a solemn and tender education of soul from day to day.

"A friend remembers us when we have forgotten ourselves. A friend may praise us and we are not embarrassed; they take loving heed of our work, our health, our aims, our plans. They may rebuke us and we are not angry. If they are silent, we understand.

"It takes a great soul to be a friend…One must forgive much, forget much, forbear much. It costs time, affection, strength, patience, love. Sometimes a person must lay down their life for a friend. There is no true friendship with self-sacrifice.

"Neither life nor death, misunderstanding, distance nor doubt must ever come between friends."