Grandma Maggie

Grandmother Maggie

Since it is so close to Thanksgiving, I wanted to say a hearty thank you to my father's mother Marget aka Maggie.  I learned so much from her.  It wasn't exactly what she said, it was what she did that was so amazing...

My grandmother was born Marget Bertine Torguson on March 7, 1882 in a log cabin south of Glenwood, Minnesota one of fourteen children of Knud and Ragnhild Torguson.  I got a kick out of doing some checking into her life because she had so many brothers and sisters:  John, Torgus, Ole, Carl, Gustav, Ole Martinus,  Alfred Cornelius, Alfred Clarance, Olena, Sarah, Betsey, Rosey, Clara, and Emma.  They must have liked the names of Ole and Alfred!  She married my grandfather, Carl August Pederson when she was 22 and he was 25.  Together they had 7 children:  Alida, Blanche, Lester, Lorna, Eleanor, Helen and my father, Ernest.  My grandmother was a seamstress by trade.  Grandfather Carl passed away when my father was 13 years old and my grandmother passed away in 1981.

That being said, what made this woman so special?  Was she a raving beauty?  No...  Was she born into wealth and splendor?  No...  Was she outgoing and a social butterfly?  No...  Then, what was so special about an ordinary Norwegian woman who lived until she was nearly 100?   What was special was her heart and perseverance!  She was a role model for her children to follow and, I must say, they all turned out to be very kind and loving people.  There was a peacefulness about her that quieted the worst of days and, most of all, she loved me.  When I visited her as a child, she held me in her lap; when I was an adult, she held me in her lap; and, when I had my first child, I proudly placed Jill in her lap followed by Jane and Tommy.  I would hug her and she'd hug me back and smile - that smile made me so happy!

My grandfather was a farmer and later after his death, my grandmother moved into town.  She lived on welfare and was so grateful when commodities were handed out at the county courthouse.  She was a humble lady, a hard worker, and a friend to all she met.  She never turned down an opportunity to make money and was quite frugal with what she had.   She never asked for anything.  She had an old ice box for years and when I moved in 1979, I gave her my refrigerator/freezer.  She was soooo excited to be able to keep ice cream!

I can't tell you much about her life with raising 7 children with a husband who had Sleeping Sickness...her breast cancer...the cancer on her face...  All I know is that I never heard her complain.  Every afternoon, she would put on a nice dress, add a pin, and be ready for company.  People were drawn to her like bees to honey.  Nobody noticed that the floor slanted in the "parlor" ...  it was the smell of fresh egg coffee and baked cookies and that smile and hug that was given as soon as you walked in the door.  There was always lots of laughter there.  The only time I ever saw my grandmother broken was when my father (her baby) died in 1973.  She said, "You're not supposed to bury your child."  There were tears, a soaked handkerchief and silence.

Every afternoon you could find grandmother Maggie sitting in her favorite rocking chair reading her Norwegian Bible and looking out at her bird feeder.  Grandmother's faith was of the utmost importance to her.  She attended the Glenwood Lutheran Church regularly until the last couple years of her life and was active in many different groups called "circles".  She also took her homemade goodies, and knitted/crotcheted items to the State Fair and proudly showed off her blue ribbons.  Her casseroles were so good and in demand when it came time for the annual smorgasbord at church.  Her home ALWAYS smelled so good and there was not a speck of dust anywhere.  I always thought that her home was so beautiful - in fact, all her daughter's homes were beautifully decorated.  That's where I must get my love of interior design.

Grandmother taught all her grandchildren the famous Norwegian table prayer...I still remember it - when I say it my grandchildren give me one of those grins that only little ones can give.  I love it!

Here you go...the Norwegian Table Prayer

I Jesu navn går vi til bords
å spise, drikke på ditt ord.
Deg, Gud til ære, oss til gavn,
Så får vi mat i Jesu navn.
Amen.

In Jesus' name to the table we go
To eat and drink according to His word.
To God the honor, us the gain,
So we have food in Jesus' name.
Amen.

If you're wondering why I am talking so much about a simple Norwegian lady, I'll tell you why.  When I was tiny and ran away, I would go to her house.  When she made me a special playhouse beside her garage, I thought it was the most glorious place ever.  She never forgot to bring me cookies and Kool Aid.  She gave me what I wasn't getting at home.  I saw this little lady as someone that I wanted to be like when I got older.  She had wisdom.  She had grace and she had humility.  She was a safe person for a lost little girl!

My grandmother never preached about being a Christian.  She just was one!  All you had to do is look at her and her way of life and you just knew.  It was because of her that I thought God was in the Glenwood Lutheran Church.  It was there that I sought my Savior.

~~Jeremiah 29:13  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

I did seek Him with all my heart.  I called His name and He kept His promise.

~~Psalm 34:4  I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.

My trauma counselor said that it probably was because of my grandmother's strong influence that I had a sense of God and goodness.  I knew that love and warmth were possible.  I had a place to go and direction once I got there.  I am one of the fortunate ones.  Other child trauma victims aren't so fortunate ... our streets and prisons are filled with them.  I knew a wonderful man whose father beat him horribly from the time he was a baby until he was well in to high school.  His motto was "you got me and I will get you."   When he was nice he was nice but oh goodness, look out if you crossed him.  What a shame!  I feel fortunate that my motto was "it's all my fault" because if it was my fault, I could fix me.  My counselor said that I was a good candidate for rehabilitation and leading a good life.   I have to be careful to avoid some areas that might bring on an episode and as long as I do that, I am fine.  I think of myself as a beautiful urn that was broken and glued together...not perfect but still beautiful and able to find joy in life. 

I am grateful too because I learned how not to raise children from my parents.  I loved my children from the day they were born and don't miss a chance to hug them and tell them they are loved and cherished.  I choose now to look forward and have a healthy life free from people telling me how bad I am.  I seek out good role models and read incessantly not only for pleasure but to be a better person.  I love to learn something new every day.  (Having a smart 7 year old grandson helps too as he soaks up knowledge like a sponge!)  It is my hope and prayer that I will be half the role model that my grandmother was for me...that is my heart's desire.

My, the year has passed quickly.  Who would have thought that I would be writing about something so personal as childhood/adult trauma/abuse.  I wake up every day thanking God for my sanity and for the opportunity to help others realize that there is wholeness.  It's hard, I know, because dysfunction passes from generation to generation because that's what's normal.  I know better now.

I hope that God is blessing your socks off today.  It's been a good day...I filled Thanksgiving boxes at church today.  Oh, so many that have not been in need are now.  Our little church was so generous and I know what Thanksgiving is all about:  "thanks" "giving". 

Time to call it a day and rest in knowing that a lady who asked for so little is getting praise that she so well deserved!

Take care, my friends...until tomorrow...

Those pumpkins will make some great pumpkin pie!!