100 years ago today,
my mother was born. Lela Bodily Allen
Roe was born the youngest of 6 children, two of whom had died as infants. When
Mom was only 6-months old, her dad went to Mexico and got a divorce – and then
came home and told Grandma that they were divorced. It was 1916 – Grandma
didn’t have any education, and in 1916 Women didn’t even have the right to
vote. She did the only thing she could do – she packed up her 4 young children
and moved back in with her parents. Mom loved her grandparents, and they did a
lot of raising her – so much so that she named me after her much-loved
grandmother.
Then when Mom was 7 years old, her aunt died – leaving Uncle
Frank to raise 3 children alone. Being a very practical woman, my great-grandma
talked Grandma into marry her brother-in-law – so that all these children would
have two parents to raise them. Just a few months after their mother died, my
mom’s cousins became her step-siblings – and her Uncle Frank became her
step-father. Uncle Frank was a difficult main – and he seemed heavily-burdened
about now having to care for 7 children, plus 2 more that came later. Even my
dad (who always liked everyone) described him as “a man that used to beat
horses” – a description I didn’t understand until much later in life, because
only a bad person would beat a horse. As Mom’s siblings (all older than her)
grew up, they left the house as soon as they could – just to get away from the
unhappy home life.
Fortunately, Mom and
Dad, who had grown up together in Preston, Idaho, eventually started dating,
and fell in love – and on July 7, 1936, they were married in the Logan Temple.
Dad was attending Utah State University in Logan, so they lived in Preston so
he could graduate and continue to work at the family newspaper. Things were
going quite well for the newlyweds, and Dad even managed to buy-out his
grandfather’s share of the newspaper when he was only age 23. But when World
War II started, everything changed. They sold the paper, and Dad and his father
both worked on the war effort. Dad traveled around the country doing military
training during the war, which meant that he and Mom were separated for most of
the next few years.
Finally, after the war, Mom and Dad settled in Oakland,
California. Just as they celebrated their 10th anniversary, they were finally
welcoming their first child into their family. Mom always loved babies, and I’m
sure she would have had a dozen if she could have. And no doubt she adored
Michael after so many years of waiting. But when he was only 4-years-old, Mike
was hit by a drunk driver right in front of their house – and he died in the
ambulance on the way to the hospital. And again, they were childless. The pain
of losing Mike is something that Mom never got over. Even though she lived
another 50 years, she couldn’t bring herself to say his name or even have a
photo of him around – it truly broke her heart beyond repair.
Her life wasn’t all sad. She adored Fran (who came as a
great blessing about a year after Mike died), and she surprised everyone when
she adopted me as an infant when she was 50-years-old. And although they never
had much money, there always seemed to be enough to do what they wanted and
needed to. Mom loved being a mom. She was proud of Fran taking dance lessons
and playing the piano – and what a great student Fran always was. And Mom went
back to work when I was little – partially to help with family finances, and
partially because she’d been raising kids for 20 years before I even came
along. She loved working at Beehive Clothing – and the “Ladies at The Center”
were not only her coworkers, but also some of her dearest friends. Between Rook
Club, Study Group, and being the Bishop’s Wife – Mom was blessed with amazing
friends. She was always quietly in the background, while Dad was the one in the
spotlight – but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She was proud of him,
and he truly couldn’t have done the things he did without her love and support.
She did an incredible job with the family finances, and she took care of
everything at home.
Dad could speak in
front of thousands, ran one of the toughest wards in the entire church, and
even had a television show for a while – yet Mom never spoke publicly. In my
entire life, I never heard her give a talk, or a prayer, or even bare her
testimony at church. She was always the Ward Librarian, or the Primary or
Relief Society Secretary – something so that she could serve, but could do so
quietly in-the-background. She didn’t go to my sister’s mission farewell
because she was afraid that the bishop would call on her to speak. Mom even
used to bribe bishops with her handmade Divinity candy so they wouldn’t call
her to anything public. When I was about 14, Mom realized I’d never heard her
testimony. She wasn’t about to stand up in Sacrament Meeting, so right there in
our kitchen she bore her testimony to me – just to me. She couldn’t bring
herself to say it publicly, but she wanted me to know that she believed and
that her testimony was important to her. And I will cherish that Personal
Testimony Meeting for the rest of my life.
After Dad retired, they dragged me kicking-and-screaming to
move to Utah – to be closer to their grandchildren. Mom loved being a grandma –
and although it drove Fran nuts, Mom would spoil her grandchildren every chance
she could. She loved having them all come over, and in her eyes they could do
no wrong. Being in Utah also gave Mom and Dad the opportunity to serve a
mission, and they served on Temple Square for 7 years – although I think eating
lunch at The Lion House every Monday was part of the appeal also.
Mom and Dad were married 63 years when Mom died, and they
were still very-much in love. I never saw my parents fight. They were
constantly supportive of each other. And even into their 80s, they still held
hands and kissed goodnight. And I never doubted just how much my Dad adored my
Mom. They were very different, but they were the perfect balance.
100 years ago there
weren’t hamburger buns or toggle light switches. She was born before pop-up
toasters, Band-aids, and Eskimo Pies. She was literally born before Sliced
Bread and Bubble Gum was invented. When I think back to all the things she saw
come into our daily lives, and when I
think over the amazing life that she lived – well, it’s a bit overwhelming. 100
years ago today may not have been a big day in the history of the world, but it
was a big day in my life – because it was the day the gentlest soul in the
world was born. No doubt I tried her patience (on more than one occasion), but
I never doubted her love for me. And although she had much sadness in her life,
including struggling with Parkinson’s Disease for 20 years, she always
responded to everyone with love and tenderness.
I know she’s in heaven watching over me – and probably
miffed that I just told everyone her age. But I don’t care, because April 30,
1916, was truly an amazing day in the history of the world – because it is the
day Lela Bodily Allen Roe was born. It may not be recorded in the annuls of
time, but to those that knew and loved her, it’s a day for which we are all
grateful.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
