Memories from Kathy and Jeff

Talk given by Kathy Behling and Jeff Nielsen, at the funeral on February 14th, 2009
"And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children." (Isaiah 54: 13)

This scripture from Isaiah hangs on the wall outside my parents' bedroom. As I read it again this week, I was impressed with how this prophecy about the conditions that would exist in Zion is a fitting tribute to the work that my mother did as a mother.

Kathy and I were asked to share some memories from mom's children. This has been a week awash in memories, as you might imagine. As we have reflected on these memories together through both writing and conversation, I have been struck with just how effectively my mother taught us of the Lord. She taught us not so much through her words (although she did that many times) as through her wonderful example of living a Christ-centered life. She was the epitome of a Christ-like woman, and we have been so blessed because of it.

My sister Rebecca summed it up this way. "I've been trying to think of an anecdote about Mom, but every thought I start with ends up not being about her. So that is my anecdote. It was never about her. I'm not just talking about always being willing to help someone out or provide service, I'm talking about helping others to find and fulfill their potential."

Mom taught us of the Lord by the way in which she lived. She taught us to love by the way in which she loved others. She taught us of the joy that comes from being focused on others. She taught us what was most important in life by spending her time on those things.

She taught us of the joy that comes through righteous living, that "he that doeth the works of righteousness shall receive his reward, even peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come" (D&C 59:23).

Please indulge us as we share a few of our memories about some of the ways our mother taught us, her children, of the Lord, and how great is the peace we feel because of this teaching.

Memories from the Children
Greg says, “My earliest memory of Mom is of sitting on her lap in her rocking chair in her room. I used to love being held, while I felt her soft arm against my cheek. She would rock, and sing "Baby's Boat," and I would know that I was loved. Mom has always been good at showing she loves her family.”

John says, “The other day I was thinking about Mom's kitchen stool—the treacherous folding one that's seen a few too many years of service. She didn't actually sit on it that much; there was usually far too much to do between cooking for all of the kids and the many friendly guests, and washing the subsequent pile of dishes.

Where the stool really played a central role was in Mom's canning. She would sit and prepare fruit to be bottled or juiced in huge batches. Peaches came from the local orchard's farm stand while apricots, cherries, grapes and crabapples came from our own vines and trees. The latter two went into the juicer and the stool would see service once again. It was just lower than the counter and stove and so made an ideal surface for the jar to catch the overflow from the juicer.

At the end of the day the counter would be covered with dozens of bottles that would be saved away and used throughout the year. Cherries, apricots and peaches we all enjoyed as a snack or side item or as the key ingredient to "Pat's Peachy Chicken." Grapes made wonderful tart juice that found its way into jelly or Sunday punch. And Mom's cinnamon crabapple jelly was widely acclaimed throughout the ward. She gave it away at Christmas as a small token of affection for the many wonderful people around us.

Mom truly loved to serve her family and everyone around her. We may not think often about the kitchen stool, but we can all remember the warmth and love that came from Mom's kitchen and her heart.”

Greg says, “As I remember Mom, it is impossible to think of her without thinking of music. I remember watching her teach new songs to my primary, never using "word charts," just teaching in her gentle, effective way, using "solfeg" hand signs and memory cues. During the more rousing primary songs, we could always count on her to remind us to sing, not shout.

Mom was always the ultimate organizer. Everything that was going on in our family was always written on "the calendar" in the kitchen. Things like trips were planned out in great detail. I remember getting ready to go on vacation to visit Grandma Mayo in California. Mom would get her box that fit over the hump between the front seats of the station wagon packed just right, with the sweet rolls in their spot, the squeeze cheese and crackers, the lunch sandwiches, the grapes, and all the other snacks in their spot, and the sharp knife in its tinfoil sheath stuck along the edge.”

Kathy says, “My mother was an incredible hostess. There were friends over for dinner at least twice a week, and mom loved preparing the food as much as she loved her guests. If someone new moved into the neighborhood, Mom would invite them for dinner, and then make sure she invited some other neighbors she thought they would like to meet. She adopted foreign students, and they came to our house for Thanksgiving and Christmas or whatever other holiday she thought they might like to participate in. She kept up with her friends from college days; one of her last visits was with a former college roommate who flew in from Arizona. Mom’s friends were just as loyal to her as she was to them.”

Sharon says, “Anywhere I went with Mom, we would run into someone she knew.
I picture Mom sitting in a chair with children sitting on the floor in a semi-circle around her. Mom is strumming an autoharp and very animatedly singing and teaching the song with her expressions.

Mom loved all things German, especially Christmas traditions. Every year we had an Advent wreath, lighting candles for each of the four Sundays of Advent and reading scriptures. When we were young, we sang in a German children’s choir for the annual Adventsingen. I knew “Stille Nacht” long before I ever learned “Silent Night” in English. Mom, Barbara Carter, and Jeri Roos taught us quite a few German carols over the years. I still remember most of them.

Mom came to all our music lessons and encouraged us all to go to each others’ recitals. There was always classical music playing in the house. And she seemed to know every song ever written. Just a couple weeks ago, I started singing I song I learned in choir that I had never heard before, and Mom started singing along. I said “how do you know that song?”

There were always fresh flowers on the table for Sunday dinner. Most of the time, they came from Mom’s garden. I have always loved the Mother’s Day song “I Often Go Walking” because all flowers do remind me of Mom.”

Tricia says, “There are six reasons why my mother is so special to me:
1. I was born on her birthday as a present from her Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ
2. I have a close relationship with her just like Jesus had with his mother.
3. She was a chosen daughter of God like Mary was.
4. She supports me through my trials and understands my feelings for Jesus Christ.
5. She helps me to express and share my talents with others.
6. I am her angel always.”

Sharon says, “I always think of Mom as elegant and refined. If I ever go to a concert in slacks, I hear her voice telling me I should have worn a dress. When I serve dinner in anything other than nice serving dishes, I think “Mom would never approve.” But she would never, ever tell anyone she didn’t approve. She accepted people for who they are and loved them unconditionally.”

Jeff says,
“How do you capture the wind on the water?
How do you count all the stars in the sky?
How can you measure the love of a mother,
Or how can you write down a baby's first cry?
— John Rutter, Candlelight Carol
There are so many things you cannot count in the life of a mother. Acts repeated over and over again—day in and day out for weeks and months and then years.
• How do you count all of the birthday cakes she made?
• Just how many cartons of Western Family ice cream did she buy?
• How many meals did she cook in that kitchen?
• How many tablecloths did she iron?
• How many relatives and friends sat on the couch? (How many friends could she possibly have?!)

• How many reams of recycled mimeograph paper did she bring home for us to draw on?
• How many music lessons did she drive us to?
• How many Christmases did she choreograph?
• How many Easter Eggs did she hard boil?
• How many Halloween costumes did she design?
• How many boxes of See's chocolates did she send us (which only seemed to increase as we got older)

• How many FHE lessons did she plan and deliver?
• How often did she gather us for family scripture study?
• How many mornings did she wake us up for prayer?
• How many family letters did she write?
• How many times did she bear her testimony?

There are so many things we cannot count. And somehow in the sum total of these repeated acts comes the peace and the assurance and the understanding that you, a child, are loved, and that things are right in the world.”

Kathy says, “My mother was the greatest coach I’ve ever met. She had a way of getting to the root of whatever the problem was and then helping me find the solution to it. When I was a young teenager, and feeling socially inadequate, she sat me down one afternoon and told me the secret to making friends. “Honey, just get people to talk about themselves. And when they do, be sure you’re interested and remember what they say.” I’ve never lacked for good friends since that pep talk.

My mother loved music. When she taught me how to harmonize almost any song at the piano, I thought it was the greatest thing. When I was asked, at the young age of 14, to lead a choir of young men and women in our ward, she helped me practice my cues and made me, and the choir, a success.

Whenever there was an opportunity, she made sure I had the confidence to take advantage of it, whether it was to participate in the Stake Speech Festival, or the musical that Diane Snow was directing that year. She quizzed me for important tests and helped me find the scriptures I needed for a church talk. Even though she didn’t like to sew, she helped me translate the directions for a pattern when I chose an intricate design that was too complicated for my skills. On more than one occasion she would start hemming one side of the dress; I started on the other, while my date for the dance waited upstairs, entertained by my brothers and sisters.

Instilling a sense of confidence in us and teaching all of us very real skills was one of the greatest gifts she gave us.

Mom was interested in her children. She acted like we were the most fascinating people she’d ever met. And if we needed anything, that was her first priority. Before computers, there was Mom at 3 am typing a paper for me and patiently re-typing an edited version or two after the initial draft. Before microwaves, there was Mom in the kitchen early in the morning, making dinner before she went to teach at BYU, so we could all sit down to eat at the regular time. At 1 am Mom was finishing up the laundry after Hawaii 5-0 and MASH. At 5 am, there was Mom driving kids to swim practice. It’s a wonder she only got a headache occasionally. When she went through chemo a number of years ago, she had to slow down to normal human levels and go to bed by 10:30. When the therapy was completed, she resumed her regular schedule. I often referred to her as the energizer bunny, because she never seemed to stop.

Hopefully these memories have given you a glimpse of what our mother means to us, and helped you appreciate just how effectively she taught us through her words, her love, and her example. Through all of the difficulties of the past weeks and months, one thing we continue to feel is an overriding sense of peace. Yes there is sadness, and longing, and wishing, and hoping for more time with her. Yes, there is a hole that will be difficult (if not impossible) to fill. But above all there is peace.

There is peace knowing that our mother lived a righteous life. That through her faith and good works she has qualified herself for a place at the right hand of God. There is peace in knowing that our parents have made eternal covenants in God's Holy temple, and that they have lived worthy of these covenants, which will bind and seal us together for eternity.

There is peace in knowing that she loved us unconditionally and that she was proud of us. There is peace in knowing that she loves us still, and that we love her.

There is peace in knowing about the gospel plan, in having testimonies of Jesus Christ and of his redemptive power. There is peace, great peace, because we were taught of the Lord.

A mother's love brings us this peace, and leads us to the peace offered by the Savior—the “peace which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).

"And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord, and great shall be the peace of thy children."

Mom loved her Father in Heaven. She studied her scriptures, and when she prayed, she prayed for all of us. She continually looked for ways to share the message of salvation and the truth of the Gospel with those she came in contact with.

She was a great example of service in the way she performed her various callings in the church. She was a dedicated visiting teacher, and listened carefully to find out who could use a meal, a phone call or a visit. Her gift to us was showing us how to serve the Lord, and thereby sharing her testimony with us.

She once told me that she was terrified when she brought her first baby home. She was so worried she wouldn’t know what to do. I think she did just fine.

"Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies. . . . Her children arise up, and call her blessed." (Proverbs 31:10, 28)