It will be remembered that my mother was born in Duluth, Minnesota on April 25th, 1941. She was born the last of the four children to William Spring and Helea Sahlsten. They had immigrated to the frozen northland of Minnesota from Finland in 1913, possibly to escape one of the numerous border wars between Russia and my native Finland. I often wondered if my grandparents chose Minnesota to settle because it resembled their native country. Whatever the reason, that part of the country has strong Finnish roots. Marie grew up with her older sister Lillian and older brothers William and Robert in a apartment building on Second Street near downtown Duluth. Some of her happiest childhood memories were of following grandpa Spring through the apartment building she lived in as he performed various maintenance tasks on the building. One thing that I found amusing, was that my mom got her first taste of coffee at the ripe old age of 10 years old. She was pretty much hooked on it from that point on. I suppose it wasn't entirely her fault. Between maintenance projects, grandpa Spring would visit one of the elderly couples living in the building. Every time this woman would see my mom come visit she would smile and say, "Coffee, Marie, coffee!" My mom would also often talk with fond memories of the times the family spent at a family cabin on the shores of Bergen Lake in northern Minnesota. Yes, Minnesota has 10,000 lakes, but Bergen Lake was special to her. It was here that the Spring family would swim, fish and spend happy times together.
I am not too familiar with the formative years that my mother spent in Duluth, but I do know that she loved walking the short distance to the old Duluth Central High School as she grew older. Ironicaly, her two sons attended the NEW Central High School atop the hill in Duluth Heights. As a young child, my mother remembered the tearful nights that Grandma Helea would spend during the latter days of World War Two. Bill, her older brother, was seriously wounded while fighting with General Pattons Third Army in the Ardenne forest in France. It wasn't until weeks later that Grandma and Grandpa learned that he was safe at a field hospital. Of her two other siblings Lillian and Robert, not too much is known of the early years.
After graduating high school, my mother worked various jobs, finnished typing school and eventually moved away from the apartment building on Second Street. It was during this time that my mom lost her mother, my grandma Helea. I can say that, through the years, she felt this pain deeply. I can honestly say today, that I know all too well how she was feeling. In 1960, Marie met Mark Eugene Wakefield, the son of Harold and Clara Wakefield of Rice lake, north of Duluth. The oldest of five siblings, my dad indeed had a troubled childhood. After a hitch in the Navy, my dad applied for and was accepted for employment with the Saint Louis County Sheriff Department. Mark and Marie were married on October 6, 1961 in Duluth, Minnesota. One year later, in 1962, their first son David Adam Wakefield was born. My parents continued to live in Duluth, close to family, during these years. On October 24th, 1966, they were blessed with a second son, me. My childhood memories of our family are still alive today. We would enjoy trips to the Iron Range of Minnesota to Lake Vermilion, where my dads friend would keep a house boat we would often use. I have many fond memories of our summers there.
Whether it was the fact that my parents married so young, or the independent nature of my own father, my mom and dad were divorced on May 10th, 1974. I was eight years old.
In the years after her divorce from my father, my mother struggled with the burden of raising her two sons on her own. I still remember her on her knees in front of our old couch as she prayed and wept. I also remember, that this is where the seed of knowing our loving God was planted in me. She would work whatever jobs she could to provide for her family. She was extremely proud of the time she spent in study at the University of Wisconsin in Superior. I remember many nights when the light in my moms room would not go out until the early morning hours. Of course, I wasn't even supposed to be awake, but I noticed. Eventually, my mom was forced to leave her college studies behind to tend to raising her boys. My mom remained very proud of her college experience. However, far from being a quitter, my mom took each and every opportunity to improve herself. My mom would eventually apply for and be accepted for a position with the federal government in Minneapolis, Minnesota, some 350 miles south of Duluth. In 1985, she moved from Northern Minnesota to Minneapolis to began a new chapter. Of course, she dragged me along with her. She would spend the next 9 years working in civil service before having her job eliminated in 1994. In the fall of 1995, my mother and I moved from Minnesota to a temporary home in San Leandro, California to be with her older sister Lillian. Moving to Oregon in 1995, my mom eventually found employment once again with the U.S Government, where she would remain until her retirement.
The years since my mothers retirement have seen ultimate joy as well as unbearable sorrow for my family. For my mom, her joy came from reaching out to others in prayer as well as being with the ladies of her Women of The Word group here at New Hope. There are names of friends that have come, gone and remained that my mom mentioned often with a smile. Virginia Lorenzini, Tammi Larsen, Carolyn Mata and Christina Loyd, Jan Daniels, Patti Gilmouth and Gwen Goldberg are just a few of the names I recall. Far from just being associated with my mom, more than a few of these ladies have become cloese to me in her final years as well. My mom loved Sunday morning worship here at New Hope, and she missed this alot in her last years. However, she also would cherish the visits she would receive from Tammy Larsen and Carolyn Mata as well. One visit that I know in my heart that she cherished was the final time she saw her friends Tammi and Carolyn as they visited her in Providence Hospital. I will always remember the way my moms face lit up in a smile as she recognized her friends.
In closing, I would like to share one of my mothers favorite scriptures, one she repeated often as she prayed from the 91st Psalm.
He who dwells in the secret place of the most high
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty
I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress
My God, in whom I will trust."
Surely He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
And from the perilous pestilence
He shall cover you with His feathers
And under His wings you shall take refuge
His truth shall be your shield and buckler
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night
Nor of the arrow that flies by day
Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday
A thousand may fall at your side
And ten thousand at your right hand
But it shall not come near you
Only with your eyes shall you look
And see the reward of the wicked
Because you have made the LORD, who is my refuge
Even the Most High, your dwelling place
No evil shall befall you
Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling
For He shall give his angels charge over you
To keep you in all your ways
In their hands they shall bear you up
Lest you should dash your foot against a stone
You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra
The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot
Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him
I will set him on high, because he has known My name
He shall call upon me, and I will answer him
I will be with him in trouble
I will deliver him and honor him
With long life I will satisfy him
And show him My salvation
I will ask that those of us who remember my mother would not remember her in sadness and tears, but in the happy times she loved to share with each and every one of us. Of course, as happens every time we lose someone close to us, we will cry. Our Lord never assures us that we won't experience pain or tears, only that when sorrow does come, that we will be comforted if we will only seek him. On one of the final visits I shared with my mom, I couldn't help crying as she struggled. She saw my tears, smiled and said, "Don't cry, God loves you." She will be missed.
Scott~
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