What’s important is what we do from this day forward

But that’s what happened.

When I walked into the church, it’s almost like I hit the “pause” button on my busy life, sat down in the pew, and received a special message that I was meant to be a part of. 

I was expecting the church to be stifling hot; it wasn’t. It was cool, the shades were pulled (with old lace curtains adorning the top), the white and light blue contrast with the old hardwood floors was lovely, the vase of wildflowers reminded me that I was in an old country church nestled in the woods, and every pew was full of the past and present. I snuck in next to my great aunt and uncle, Dickie and Judy Miller, and waited for the program to begin.

Normally, Judith Kotrba, who grew up along Moose River and attended the church until it closed in the 60’s, organizes the program and greets the crowd, shares some stories and so on. Judith still worked very hard on the picnic, as I will be sharing her words below, but she had to take a step back this year. Recently she underwent surgery for a brain tumor, but she was determined to make it to the picnic, regardless. There she sat in the front row of her old church, weak, yet content and happy to be “home.” After the Staie’s gospel/sloughgrass music filled the air, the congregation sang “Old Rugged Cross” with Pastor Vicki Worthington accompanying on the old pump organ. Next on the agenda would have been Judith speaking to the group, instead she had written her portion of the program and asked Pastor Vicki to read it. This is the portion of the program that gets personal to the people in the pews – past members who have left us are remembered. Not only did Judith give a great tribute that day, with her own health on her mind, she also delivered an inspiring message to all of us. For some of us, it brought tears to our eyes and really touched our hearts. With her permission, I’m sharing Judith’s message with you below. 

Judith’s words, Saturday, July 14th, 2018

Welcome to another Northwood picnic and thank you all for coming. We have Byron & Peggy Staie, from Viking, bringing us their special music.

First of all, I want to give my thanks to Jean Foss for all the work cleaning the church, taking care of the church yard and flowers. To Bonnie Nelson for once again doing the potatoes. My niece Marilyn (from Iowa) for her help. To David Lee for the great tasting chicken he once again furnished. To my sister in-law, Carol Lee, for the Norwegian Cake she made to celebrate Otto’s 1st year in his second century. A special thank you to my husband, Duane, for all his help getting things done as he knew this picnic meant so much to me. Anyone else that lent a helping hand, we thank you.

Now, the part that’s always hard for me – acknowledging the ones we have lost since last year’s picnic.

July 2017: The Foss family had yet another loss. Their baby sister, Kathy. Kathy was born after I was married and gone, so I didn’t know her that well. I was at the farm one Halloween when Gordon brought the kids trick or treating. They were so proud of her, such a pretty little girl. At her dad’s funeral, I remember telling her she looked so much like her aunts, Esther & Adaline. She said, “Thank you! That’s a real compliment. They were such pretty ladies.” I said, “It was meant as such.”

Also in July 2017, we lost Larry & Mayvonne Vigen – just six days apart. I went to school with Larry from 3rd grade to graduating high school together. We were friends all those years. Mayvonne I knew since she was born. A beautiful baby she was, who grew into a beautiful woman, inside and out, who became a wife, mother and grandmother. They loved coming to the picnic and missed only a couple of them because of family reunions. Mayvonne’s Grandpa Anderson helped build this humble little church.

Mayvonne & Larry both looked forward to retiring and enjoying that little granddaughter of theirs. Larry already did look forward to meeting her at the bus when she would come for pre-school. They would have breakfast together! Mayvonne was looking forward to the same, plus babysitting. The last time I talked to her, she had been doctoring for a bad cough, which turned out to be more than that and was too far gone. Misdiagnosis for both of them.

Also, we lost Karen Johnson in 2018. She was another beautiful lady inside and out; such a kind, gentle person. I often wished I could be more like her. Another misdiagnosis. Such a loss.

Then, in August of 2017, our family lost our brother Ralph in a stupid farm accident that shouldn’t have happened. When he would do things by himself, alone out here, I would call them “stupid stunts” and then I would chew him out for not asking for help! Duane would tell me, “He’s doing what he wants to do to prove to you he can be alone. He’s telling you what you want to hear when he says he’s feeling really good.” Which was true, when I think about it now.

Ralph was no paragon of virtue. Well, none of us are, but I think of how proud he was of the farm where he spent his life and how he kept that up. When Kenneth was unable to help anymore, Ralph did it by himself, along with keeping this church yard immaculate and vacuuming the church (as there was always an abundance of flies). He did every one’s lots, it didn’t matter if there was 1 buried on a plot or 5+, he did them all without expecting pay. They used their own equipment, their own gas, and of course all the time involved. One time, they had a breakdown when he and Kenneth were still doing it. It cost $250 for the part. I told him to take it from the church fund. He said, “No.” Keith called him and told him the same. Finally, he did. That was the only time they took compensation. I’d tell him to pay themselves out of the church fund. He would always tell me, “Someday I won’t be able to do it, so leave the money in there so there will be enough to pay someone. I don’t want the church yard left unattended.”

Well, I would call that a virtue.

When Ralph fell and got hurt last summer, I told him that in the fall, I was coming out to eliminate some of the work around there. I told him, “When you do something stupid, I’m the one who gets the fall out.” I told him to let the cemetery go and do your own yard. Let people see what it will look like if it’s not taken care of, if no one wants to help. Oh, but someone did want to help. When he told me the church yard was done and the farm, I chewed him out…or started to. He told me Pastor Vicki’s husband hauled his mower out and helped with the church and the farm yards! I asked, “Did you pay him?” He said, “Tim wouldn’t take any pay.” When I called Tim to pay him, he said, “Ralph needed help. My mother always told us boys if someone needs help, you do it without expecting pay.”

What a virtue. Bless you Tim!

Ralph and I talked almost every day. Very seldom a day without talking. He knew I was checking on him and if he didn’t answer my message, I would call Jean Foss and she would go over and make sure he was OK. If a couple days went by because I was busy outside, he would call me and say, “What’s going on, I haven’t heard from you for a couple days.” I’d say, “Gee, you found out the phone works both ways.” That was the tight side of Ralph!

We would talk politics (didn’t always agree). We talked about regrets (we all have some). He talked about his and I told him some of mine. I even told him about our dad and some of his regrets. I came to the nursing home, Dad was in his wheelchair facing the window. His shoulders were shaking. I watched for a few seconds then went over and put my hand on his shoulder and asked him what was wrong. And he said he had so many regrets. I told him we all have regrets – should have/could have, but didn’t – we can’t change the past, we can learn from it. What’s important is what we do from this day forward.

Another time towards the end, my dad’s voice was very weak. I spent the day with him, gave him a haircut and shave, washed his hair (he had beautiful wavy hair when he couldn’t plaster it flat to his head), and took him outside. Later, when I had to leave, the girls put him in his bed, put his music on and I said goodbye. I took my little pail (I always brought soft water for his hair) and my bag with all my hair clippers, etc. I got down the hallway and heard my name called. I stopped, heard it again, very loud, and realized it was coming from Dad’s room. I set my pail and bag down and ran back to his room thinking he may have fallen out of bed. He was crying. When I asked what was wrong, he said, “I just wanted you to know…life would be hell on earth without you.”

Wow. Coming from my dad! And that was one of the last things he ever told me. When I told that to Ralph, he got very quiet. I think he was glad to hear those stories. My dad could be a hard nose sometimes. Once again, we all have regrets (it’s just part of life), but the past is the past and we can’t change it. The present is the present. The future is not ours. We can make plans for the future, but it doesn’t mean they will materialize. We only have this moment!

Ralph is missed. Especially by me because I spent so much time with him. Bless his memory and also the memory of Larry, Mayvonne, Kathy and Karen.

The program ended with the following vocal selection by Judith Kotrba, sang by Pastor Vicki Worthington.

 

There’s so many things we’d change if we lived our lives again. So many things we would and would not do. All the past mistakes we’ve made and the price that we have paid, oh, how we’d live if we could start anew.

Chorus: But there’s no going back and we can’t change the past or turn back the hands of time. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and I know that only this moment is mine.

There are things we’d never try and tears we’d never cry if we had known the hill was too steep. We’d have never tumbled down or fallen in and drowned if we knew the river was so deep.

Chorus

So it’s best if we forget the things we now regret, for we cannot go back and change the past. Let us use those old mistakes, a better life to make, and tomorrow we may find that dream at last.

Chorus