Our Mother
There is so much I could say about my mother ....
Mother taught school for so many years , I can't imagine how many young lives she touched in all those years. She was a fantastic teacher. Patient, caring, and kind, but she never had any disipline problems that she couldn't handle. I ought to know, for Mother was also my teacher.
I couldn't have had a better one. Under her care, I learned to embordery while we listened to our favorite radio programs. Lux theater was one of the special ones. Mother held me up while I learned to skate, held the bike up while I learned to ride it. She taught me to play to jacks and hop scotch.
My love for reading, I contribute to her. I'll always remember when we read Heidi together. I then proceeded to read it eight more times.
When the first snow that I ever saw finally occurred in 1949, she taught me how to make a snow man and then snow ice cream. We ate snow ice cream and drank hot chocolate.
For ten years I was an only child and now looking back I realize how lucky I was. I desperately wanted a brother or sister, but for 10 years I got my parents' undivided attention, especially my Mother's.
The night before here stroke, we visited over the phone for about 45 minutes. During our conversation, I misused "I" when I should have said "me." Mother immediately caught it and corrected me — still teaching.
Mother's love, care and teaching was there to the end. She was dedicated to here family in every way. Strong in her love for our Lord and strong in her love for all of us.
I have said it many times, to others and to Mother — that if I ever grow up, I want to be just like my Mother.
Patricia Voight Bucek
February 28, 2003
Mother was my first teacher, is still my teacher, and always will be. Like all mothers, she taught through example. She believed in total loyalty to and love of family. She taught us integrity, honesty, dignity, humor and endurance (which some people would term "mule-headed stubborness.")
Our trip to the hospital on election day, 2000 is a good example. Although she was very week — she insisted that I stop to vote. In fact she wouldn't go to the hospital until I did vote. She took her politics pretty seriously!
She also taught us while we didn't have a lot of money — we were never poor — we had each other.
She was very proud when our daughter Elizabeth became a teacher even while warning here about the lack of financial rewards.
I guess it all goes back to love. She taught that most of all. She never stopped loving or gave up her belief in us and our capacity to learn and grow to through love.
Thank you Mama,
"We will endeavor to persevere."
Vickie Voight Ivey
February 28, 2003
Mother was always a hard worker. On any day, even into her eighties, i felt it difficult to keep up with her drive, her will power and her strength and stamina. It was absolutely astonishing. During the last few years, on almost every Saturday we would drive to the farm and spend the whole day working on some endless project or another.
Typically, it was the garden. She loved her garden. As recently as last fall, it was not unusual to see her pushing and pulling that heavy garden tiller around for an hour or so. Her legs would start to hurt and she would sit down to rest. I would try to take over, but she was stubborn. Once she had made up her mind to do something, It was hard to change. She loved to work and she work hard all of her life.
She was always there helping all of her children in any way she could sometimes taking on jobs that she probably shouldn't have. But hard work did make her happy.
I remember one time when mother and daddy were helping me rebuild my backyard fence. By this time, she was well into her seventies. I had rented one of those two-man gas powered augers to dig new post holes. The idea was to have each person stationed on two of the four handles and gently guide the bit into ground. She was right there manning the other side with me and we were doing great until we jammed the bit against a rock. Well, the automatic shut off didn't work, and neither of us could let go or turn the motor off in time, so the auger swung us both around a couple of revolutions before either one of us could turn lose. I can only imagine how it looked. Probably pretty funny. Both of us got bruised a little, but we went right on to the next post hole. This was pretty typical. She always was right there willing to work as hard as any man.
She had this very special way of providing motivation when planning new projects. I guess that it was that first grade teacher coming out. It would typically begin with something like "We need to" or "We should be able to do" something or other.
I always feared every time she used the pronoun "WE." I always knew that what was to follow was another project that she had thought up for us to start.
For example, last fall we had just had one of our pastures planted in oats and the whole field was and still is covered with numerous boulders and small rocks. She would say "We need to pick up those rocks in the field today. It won't take us very long, if we do a few every time we drive up to the hay pasture, we should be through in no time."
I would always tease her about which "WE" she was speaking of. I always knew that it was really another project that she wanted me to complete. She would help when she could. But as she grew older, she was less able. It wasn't so much that I knew that it would be my task, but it was always so funny to me to know that this was just her way of thinking of other things for us to do.
And even when we were involved in such a project, she would still find time to quit at lunch and go into the house and prepare a meal for all of us to eat. She simply never stopped, not even to the very end.
Yea, there were those funny times that all families have and those stories we like to tell on each other. Like when she served me the meatless hamburger. I was in junior high school and famished after a football workout one evening. I was well into my second hamburger, before I realized that something was really special about these particular hamburgers. They tasted pretty good, mayonnaise, mustard, pickles, onions, lettuce and tomatoes ... and ... what else? "Hey mom, what was in that hamburger. It was pretty good." I heard her gasp and cry out that she had forgotten to insert the meat patties. From then on, we always teased her about how good here hamburgers were.
She was my mother and one of my very best friends and I will miss her terribly.
James Voight
February 28, 2003
What We Remember
I remember Velma in Red Rock. She and my sister Florine were pals as they grew up. I do remember her coming to our house. In those days getting together with girlfriends wasn't easy. I met her again many years later at Westover Hills church. I sat by her last Sunday at church. We always talked about the old days. I will miss her.
I remember the many good times we shared. We loved to go shopping together and often bought clothes alike. Even if I went and found "bargains" first and got home and called and told her of a sale — she'd go and come home with the exact same items and colors — although I hadn't told her what I'd bought! I wll greatly miss my friend who was much more than a "friend."
I Remember Velma as a lovely person, a good friend, and a very good teacher. We not only taught together but enjoyed a social group together. Vallon and Velma were a dear couple. He loved to join in singing the Christmas carols - such beautiful memories are to be treasured.
I remember how every time I would visit her with Jennifer. She would always offer me a soda and some food. She was a very warm and loving person whom I didn't know well enough. She will live with me forever.
I remember how happy Aunt Velma was when I told here I was going to be a teacher. I remember how much she loved here family and the (family) reunions, but most of all, she was such a lady with great dignity whether she was dressed up or out in the garden in here work clothes. She was and will always be one of my role models who showed me that no matter your age or circumstances, you can still make a difference — I love you all.
I remember how she loved to work in the yard and in her garden at Red Rock. She also loved taking care of the cows. She would want to know if she was feeding them enought hay in the winter months.
What a lady she was! I became acquainted with her after her husband's death. We encouraged her to become a part of our Sunday Morn Bible Class at Westover Hills Church of Christ called "The Closer Walk" class. She finally came to visit — then became a regular member. We really learned to love her in our group, (basically widows) so we had much in common. But she had energy and motivation far beyond most of us (though older). That she painted her bathroom at 80 years old still amazed me! Beautiful lady.
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