Cleo Patterson

Mom is always thought about in the context of Dad. They were partners through all their life.
On Monday earlier this week, Martha and I finished the day’s major task and went to lunch at a small café in Whittier. As we enjoyed each other’s company and contemplated what was done, we could only sigh with relief, and each say in our own words – an era has come to an end. The small, two-bedroom apartment in La Mirada, CA was now completely cleaned out and returned to the La Mirada Heights administration for their use in preparing it for some other family to move into and enjoy the benefits that Mom and Dad did for a bit more than 8 years.
Going through Mom’s personal property at the end of her life was an amazing experience. It was a reminder to Martha and I that we’ll have that same thing be a part of the end of our lives.
- Saving “things” often creates a burden for those caring for us.
- Many of the items saved simply became another thing to dispose of.
- Watching... Read more the family go through the items and deciding what they wanted and what they did not want was emotional to observe. And appeared to be a different reason for each person and for each item they wished to keep.
Martha & I have cared for Mom and Dad almost our whole married life. Married in 2014, we had dinner with them every Monday night followed by Dad teaching Martha the truth. She later was interviewed by Russ Patterson and baptized at the Verdugo Hills Ecclesia in 2015. In early 2016 Dad had two major strokes and eventually passing in 2019. And our daily, regular, caretaking began, with Martha carrying the greatest burden. She was an amazing source of love and kindness!!
Mom continued to live at the Hacienda Height home and visited Dad almost daily. In 2016 we returned from Charlevoix to Mom literally jumping into our arms and wanting to move in with Dad at the Palms, an Independent Living with Supportive Services community. Utilizing an architect I knew from work, we created a beautiful interior design from Mom & Dad’s home furnishings so that when she moved in, it was like moving home.
Mom struggled with the sale of their Hacienda Heights home. She & Dad raised a family there. It was a place with memories and many, many special events and occasions. We had an Estate Sale in Feb 2017 with so much being sold and then more being disposed of. I can remember walking Mom through the house and asking what she would like to take with her to the Palms and finding her absolutely perplexed to even consider that might be meaningful. Another message to all of us as we carefully retain and store those items waiting for the day when family members will be in the same position as we were…
Mom loved her time at the Palms. When she first moved in, it was a challenge because she wanted to continue living in the Hacienda Heights home so badly. Afterall, it was where she raised her family. A family that she raised in love and kindness.
Many of you will remember special dinners Mom cooked, served, and afterwards, we all cleaned up. I learned table manners there, I learned generosity there, I learned how to be a gracious host to friends, I participated in doing the Bible Readings most nights after dinner, including one stretch of nights when we all helped in creating a beautiful crochet rug, and much, much, more.
One special part of mom’s work was supporting a thrift store called Hope House. Here are her words:
I think it is great that Hope House will be involved when you may remember that I was involved for years with Hope House Thrift Store and worked there once a week or maybe once every two weeks all day for years plus collecting stuff for them and as Mark mentioned sold hundreds of pounds of nuts for them!
Life marches on!! Love to all from Gr. Cleo & Gr. Dick or Mom & Dad
Because of this personal work of service, we asked Hope House to help us with the final clean-up of the Hacienda Heights house after the Estate Sale did what it was able to accomplish. And, you can imagine my surprise, when I called them to make a similar effort for the clean-up of Mom’s La Mirada Apartment. Their thrift store was closed down as part of the impact from the 2020 Covid pandemic! So, we were forced to choose a different solution for the Apartment clean-up. Let me recommend a company called “Got Junk” as an effective and efficient way to finish up the work.
Some of you will recall the work that Mom referenced in her email in talking about selling hundreds of pounds of nuts. She had boxes of pecans, walnuts, macadamia and other types of nuts, all over the house. And we all helped with packaging them up and delivering them to friends, neighbors, and church members. All as part of an amazing act of service that led to many donation dollars to Hope House.
So, let me return to the top. I retired two years ago from a 35-year fabulous working experience. Martha retired last year from an equally long and service-oriented career in education. And, now with the Patterson family matriarch and patriarch having passed, we can truly say that we will be figuring out what to do with a retired life for the first time in our married life!! Read less

Cleo Patterson

Mom is always thought about in the context of Dad. They were partners through all their life.
On Monday earlier this week, Martha and I finished the day’s major task and went to lunch at a small café in Whittier. As we enjoyed each other’s company and contemplated what was done, we could only sigh with relief, and each say in our own words – an era has come to an end. The small, two-bedroom apartment in La Mirada, CA was now completely cleaned out and returned to the La Mirada... Read more Heights administration for their use in preparing it for some other family to move into and enjoy the benefits that Mom and Dad did for a bit more than 8 years.
Going through Mom’s personal property at the end of her life was an amazing experience. It was a reminder to Martha and I that we’ll have that same thing be a part of the end of our lives.
- Saving “things” often creates a burden for those caring for us.
- Many of the items saved simply became another thing to dispose of.
- Watching the family go through the items and deciding what they wanted and what they did not want was emotional to observe. And appeared to be a different reason for each person and for each item they wished to keep.
Martha & I have cared for Mom and Dad almost our whole married life. Married in 2014, we had dinner with them every Monday night followed by Dad teaching Martha the truth. She later was interviewed by Russ Patterson and baptized at the Verdugo Hills Ecclesia in 2015. In early 2016 Dad had two major strokes and eventually passing in 2019. And our daily, regular, caretaking began, with Martha carrying the greatest burden. She was an amazing source of love and kindness!!
Mom continued to live at the Hacienda Height home and visited Dad almost daily. In 2016 we returned from Charlevoix to Mom literally jumping into our arms and wanting to move in with Dad at the Palms, an Independent Living with Supportive Services community. Utilizing an architect I knew from work, we created a beautiful interior design from Mom & Dad’s home furnishings so that when she moved in, it was like moving home.
Mom struggled with the sale of their Hacienda Heights home. She & Dad raised a family there. It was a place with memories and many, many special events and occasions. We had an Estate Sale in Feb 2017 with so much being sold and then more being disposed of. I can remember walking Mom through the house and asking what she would like to take with her to the Palms and finding her absolutely perplexed to even consider that might be meaningful. Another message to all of us as we carefully retain and store those items waiting for the day when family members will be in the same position as we were…
Mom loved her time at the Palms. When she first moved in, it was a challenge because she wanted to continue living in the Hacienda Heights home so badly. Afterall, it was where she raised her family. A family that she raised in love and kindness.
Many of you will remember special dinners Mom cooked, served, and afterwards, we all cleaned up. I learned table manners there, I learned generosity there, I learned how to be a gracious host to friends, I participated in doing the Bible Readings most nights after dinner, including one stretch of nights when we all helped in creating a beautiful crochet rug, and much, much, more.
One special part of mom’s work was supporting a thrift store called Hope House. Here are her words:
I think it is great that Hope House will be involved when you may remember that I was involved for years with Hope House Thrift Store and worked there once a week or maybe once every two weeks all day for years plus collecting stuff for them and as Mark mentioned sold hundreds of pounds of nuts for them!
Life marches on!! Love to all from Gr. Cleo & Gr. Dick or Mom & Dad
Because of this personal work of service, we asked Hope House to help us with the final clean-up of the Hacienda Heights house after the Estate Sale did what it was able to accomplish. And, you can imagine my surprise, when I called them to make a similar effort for the clean-up of Mom’s La Mirada Apartment. Their thrift store was closed down as part of the impact from the 2020 Covid pandemic! So, we were forced to choose a different solution for the Apartment clean-up. Let me recommend a company called “Got Junk” as an effective and efficient way to finish up the work.
Some of you will recall the work that Mom referenced in her email in talking about selling hundreds of pounds of nuts. She had boxes of pecans, walnuts, macadamia and other types of nuts, all over the house. And we all helped with packaging them up and delivering them to friends, neighbors, and church members. All as part of an amazing act of service that led to many donation dollars to Hope House.
So, let me return to the top. I retired two years ago from a 35-year fabulous working experience. Martha retired last year from an equally long and service-oriented career in education. And, now with the Patterson family matriarch and patriarch having passed, we can truly say that we will be figuring out what to do with a retired life for the first time in our married life!! Read less

As a child, I could have never imagined being able to speak at a memorial for someone I loved. As the still very young person that I am today, I have now spoken at memorials for a handful of my closest family members, including for my own father. And it is indeed a hard task. I remember at a family get-together, where there was a conversation about funerals and I asked my dad how he was able to speak at these memorials and I remember him saying that it is something you get used to. But, then he said “except for Cleo. Please don’t ask me to speak at Cleo’s funeral, because I won’t be able to do that one.” Well...he sure took the easy way out of that task, didn’t he.... But it really was a testament to the very special person that she was. And that is what makes this both a very hard thing to do, this public saying goodbye, but also an easy one, because there are so many great memories that we have and will continue to treasure in our hearts and all around us.

One of my very wise Aunties... Read more recently commented about how God works in little ways and if we are open to seeing the small miracles around us, we will be given gifts that are amazing reminders of our loved ones who are no longer physically with us. And so, today, I would like to share some of those gifts that I have received from having Grandma Cleo as a very important person in my life and how these gifts will continue to live on around me as long as I am willing to see them.

I don’t remember how old I was when I got to start sitting next to my grandma at “church” every Sunday. I am guessing it was around the time that my very loud and grumbly baby brother was born. But for many years, probably until I was an old enough teenager that I was trusted to behave with my other teenage friends, I felt lucky to be able to sit in the front row with my grandma and grandpa. During the Bible Readings, my grandma was not only always paying attention but she was paying attention to the pronunciation as well. And anytime the reader would mispronounce a word, she would whisper the correct pronunciation, not too loud, but just loud enough. It may indeed be part of the reason I became a good reader. But also maybe the reason I am a little nervous that I might mispronounce something today.

Speaking of reading, so many of my memories of my grandma have to do with reading. I can see and smell the hall bookshelf where our favorite books were located that she would read to us. And when we got older there were longer books we could read on our own when we were visiting. I have a very real and valid fear of fireworks, from a book on that bookshelf about a boy who went blind after a fireworks accident and how he then became a champion swimmer. Then there were the Readers Digests in the bathroom that made me look forward to using the bathroom for extended periods of time. My favorite parts were the funny stories from real life, that included the “life is like that” section and the military “humor in uniform.” It was also from my Grandma that I was introduced to Nancy Drew, who was a childhood role model. My Nancy Drew book collection includes books that my grandma received as a child and they now live on my “favorite books shelf”. When I got older she would give me paperback romance novels that she had already read. I assume she previewed these books before passing them on, but I did become a Danielle Steel fan for a while, thanks to my grandma. I have multiple pictures of us on camping and backpacking trips, all sitting around on rocks or around a campfire, with books in our hands. And I always made room in my backpacking pack for several paperpacks.

I was always excited to spend time with my grandma. I was lucky enough to have a lot of that time with just me. I loved watching Murder She Wrote with her in her office, playing a lot of Yahtzee and cribbage, visiting my Aunt Virginia up the road, learning how to cross stitch, and making and eating her famous tacos. But sharing her with my cousins was always fun too. I have a very specific memory of a time that Grandma was tasked with babysitting myself, my brother Evan and my cousins Matthew and David at my Aunt and Uncle’s house. I believe our parents all went somewhere together that weekend, but I am sure we didn’t care where they went, we got to spend time together and with Grandma. One of the things that we did that weekend was to watch a VHS movie called the Flight of the Navigator. Back in the day, when access to media was still much more limited, us kids had already watched that movie enough times already that we had many of the lines memorized. As we watched it together with Grandma, our favorite thing to do was to say the next line in the movie before it happened on the screen. And then Grandma would tell us kids to stop it and to let her watch the movie. And then we would all laugh and give her a few minutes, before someone else would pipe up with another line and she would get irritated with us again. And we would laugh again. We did this through the entire movie. This may have been why she left us unsupervised long enough for us to discuss and follow through with duct taping David (with his permission and not directly on his skin...of course). But then the three of us left him alone long enough that Grandma found him laying on the living room floor, still duct taped.... I can see and hear her the way she said our names in irritation but was laughing at the same time. She had a great laugh.

My grandparents did a lot of travelling, both for church and for enjoyment. When I was old enough, I believe that my Grandma made it a point, on every trip, to seek out eligible young men around my age and tell them all about me. Because I started to receive letters from boys around the world....Australia, New Zealand, South and Central America, South Africa.... I wish I would have saved these letters because they all started the same way “Hi Sarah, I recently had the pleasure of meeting your lovely Grandma Cleo. She has told me so much about you that I felt I needed to write and introduce myself.” She could have marketed her matchmaking services well before the internet was even a thing.

Sometimes I exasperated my grandma, with my apparent lack of trying to dress nice, since she often reminded me that I was “naked” because I forgot to accessorize with jewelry. And sometimes she would tell me that she could “see right through my clothes” when I didn’t wear a slip under my skirt or dress. The truth was that dressing “nice” was usually the last thing on my mind. But she would often help me out by buying me jewelry and taking me shopping to help encourage me to wear nice things. Grandma, you can rest easy, I am not naked today. I am wearing both a necklace and earrings you gave me. But, I can’t vouch for the slip....

Every year, for as long as they were able to, I would get a phone call from my grandma and grandpa and the two of them would sing happy birthday to me. After my grandpa died, my grandma would still continue to do this as long as she remembered. On my phone, I have a voicemail from 2021, of her singing to me on my birthday. I recently upgraded my phone, and had a few moments of panic the other day, when I thought maybe the voicemails had not been transferred to my new phone. It is safe. And I listened to it. And her voice is just as I remember it. I hadn’t gotten a birthday phone call from her in a few years until this last march, when she called and I immediately answered. One of the purple ladies at the Palms saw on the calendar that it was my birthday and helped her call me. We had a really nice conversation, and at one point she said “I hope I was a good Grandma to you, but if I wasn’t, there isn’t a darn thing I can do about it now.” It made me laugh, but also cry and told her that she was a wonderful grandma and also how just a few days before that Cassidy and I had been talking about her house on Las Tunas Road, and all the great memories we had there. And it was a great house for a kid to visit, with a hill to roll down, and a basketball hoop in the driveway, the hulu hoop and otter pops in the garage, the game closet in the hallway and the toy closet under the stairs. But it wasn’t the house that made it a great place to visit. It was the people that lived there.

At my grandma’s house, she always had a hummingbird feeder hanging outside her kitchen window above her sink. I loved watching the hummingbirds get their snacks and zip and fight. I still do. The hummingbird season in Indiana is relatively short, and currently I have two feeders on my deck, and one of my favorite summertime activities is sitting on the deck and watching all of their antics. Watching the hummingbirds always reminds me of my grandma. This summer, as I knew that the end of my grandma's life was near, and I wished so much that I could be with her, the hummingbirds were a comfort to me and made me feel near her. This, I believe is one of those gifts that I was able to see in a time that I needed it.

Another one of those small miracles happened just a few days after grandma died. As you know by now, Grandma’s favorite color was purple, and she loved singing with her Choral Belles. I had a small project I was working on at home, to build “something” to cover a well pump in my front yard that was not an attractive feature. I created a planter, and then needed just the right plant for a very shady spot. I went to the local garden center, and one of the very first shade perennials that I saw was a plant called “Forever Purple Coral Bells.” It was pretty obvious that was the exact plant that I needed. Although now the pressure is on to keep that plant alive for the forever part.

But nothing can live forever. That is why we are given the gift of the special memories we make with our loved ones. I have so many great memories of times spent camping and backpacking with all of my family and often friends who were also family. My grandparents were a big part of making camping a part of my being. When we camped, evening campfire songs were always a big part of any family camping trip and we had a repertoire of songs we would sing. When Matthew, Evan and I were discussing this service Matthew asked, should we sing campfire songs? And as I pondered this question, I wondered “what song that we sang, truly captures the spirit of Grandma Cleo?” And then I knew. And we, as in all of us here, are going to sing a campfire song together. My grandpa Dick always led this song. And when we sang it, it often felt like he was singing it directly to my Grandma. I am going to attempt to lead it, and I hope you will all help me out.

The song is a repeat song. So I will sing a line, and you will repeat it back. And then at the end of each verse we will sing the whole verse together. I have copies of the lyrics that my helpers will pass out to you if you would like them. But it becomes pretty self-explanatory as we sing.

The prettiest girl (the prettiest girl)
I ever saw (I ever saw)
Was sippin' ci- (was sippin' ci-)
Der through a straw (der through a straw)
The prettiest girl I ever saw, was sippin' ci-der through a straw. (all together)

She said to me
Come take a sip
And we sipped our ci-
Der hip to hip
She said to me come take a sip, and we sipped our cider hip to hip

First cheek to cheek
Then jaw to jaw
We sipped our ci-
Der through a straw
First cheek to cheek then jaw to jaw, we sipped our cider through a straw


And now and then
That straw would slip
And we’d sip our ci-
Der lip to lip
And now and then that straw would slip and we’d sip our cider lip to lip

And now I have
A mother-in-law
And fourteen kids
Who call me "Pa"
And now I have a mother-in-law, and fourteen kids who call me "Pa"

The moral of
This little tale
Don't you sip ci-
Der you sip beer!
The moral of this little tale, don’t you sip cider you sip beer. Read less

As a child, I could have never imagined being able to speak at a memorial for someone I loved. As the still very young person that I am today, I have now spoken at memorials for a handful of my closest family members, including for my own father. And it is indeed a hard task. I remember at a family get-together, where there was a conversation about funerals and I asked my dad how he was able to speak at these memorials and I remember him saying that it is something you get used to. But, then he ... Read moresaid “except for Cleo. Please don’t ask me to speak at Cleo’s funeral, because I won’t be able to do that one.” Well...he sure took the easy way out of that task, didn’t he.... But it really was a testament to the very special person that she was. And that is what makes this both a very hard thing to do, this public saying goodbye, but also an easy one, because there are so many great memories that we have and will continue to treasure in our hearts and all around us.

One of my very wise Aunties recently commented about how God works in little ways and if we are open to seeing the small miracles around us, we will be given gifts that are amazing reminders of our loved ones who are no longer physically with us. And so, today, I would like to share some of those gifts that I have received from having Grandma Cleo as a very important person in my life and how these gifts will continue to live on around me as long as I am willing to see them.

I don’t remember how old I was when I got to start sitting next to my grandma at “church” every Sunday. I am guessing it was around the time that my very loud and grumbly baby brother was born. But for many years, probably until I was an old enough teenager that I was trusted to behave with my other teenage friends, I felt lucky to be able to sit in the front row with my grandma and grandpa. During the Bible Readings, my grandma was not only always paying attention but she was paying attention to the pronunciation as well. And anytime the reader would mispronounce a word, she would whisper the correct pronunciation, not too loud, but just loud enough. It may indeed be part of the reason I became a good reader. But also maybe the reason I am a little nervous that I might mispronounce something today.

Speaking of reading, so many of my memories of my grandma have to do with reading. I can see and smell the hall bookshelf where our favorite books were located that she would read to us. And when we got older there were longer books we could read on our own when we were visiting. I have a very real and valid fear of fireworks, from a book on that bookshelf about a boy who went blind after a fireworks accident and how he then became a champion swimmer. Then there were the Readers Digests in the bathroom that made me look forward to using the bathroom for extended periods of time. My favorite parts were the funny stories from real life, that included the “life is like that” section and the military “humor in uniform.” It was also from my Grandma that I was introduced to Nancy Drew, who was a childhood role model. My Nancy Drew book collection includes books that my grandma received as a child and they now live on my “favorite books shelf”. When I got older she would give me paperback romance novels that she had already read. I assume she previewed these books before passing them on, but I did become a Danielle Steel fan for a while, thanks to my grandma. I have multiple pictures of us on camping and backpacking trips, all sitting around on rocks or around a campfire, with books in our hands. And I always made room in my backpacking pack for several paperpacks.

I was always excited to spend time with my grandma. I was lucky enough to have a lot of that time with just me. I loved watching Murder She Wrote with her in her office, playing a lot of Yahtzee and cribbage, visiting my Aunt Virginia up the road, learning how to cross stitch, and making and eating her famous tacos. But sharing her with my cousins was always fun too. I have a very specific memory of a time that Grandma was tasked with babysitting myself, my brother Evan and my cousins Matthew and David at my Aunt and Uncle’s house. I believe our parents all went somewhere together that weekend, but I am sure we didn’t care where they went, we got to spend time together and with Grandma. One of the things that we did that weekend was to watch a VHS movie called the Flight of the Navigator. Back in the day, when access to media was still much more limited, us kids had already watched that movie enough times already that we had many of the lines memorized. As we watched it together with Grandma, our favorite thing to do was to say the next line in the movie before it happened on the screen. And then Grandma would tell us kids to stop it and to let her watch the movie. And then we would all laugh and give her a few minutes, before someone else would pipe up with another line and she would get irritated with us again. And we would laugh again. We did this through the entire movie. This may have been why she left us unsupervised long enough for us to discuss and follow through with duct taping David (with his permission and not directly on his skin...of course). But then the three of us left him alone long enough that Grandma found him laying on the living room floor, still duct taped.... I can see and hear her the way she said our names in irritation but was laughing at the same time. She had a great laugh.

My grandparents did a lot of travelling, both for church and for enjoyment. When I was old enough, I believe that my Grandma made it a point, on every trip, to seek out eligible young men around my age and tell them all about me. Because I started to receive letters from boys around the world....Australia, New Zealand, South and Central America, South Africa.... I wish I would have saved these letters because they all started the same way “Hi Sarah, I recently had the pleasure of meeting your lovely Grandma Cleo. She has told me so much about you that I felt I needed to write and introduce myself.” She could have marketed her matchmaking services well before the internet was even a thing.

Sometimes I exasperated my grandma, with my apparent lack of trying to dress nice, since she often reminded me that I was “naked” because I forgot to accessorize with jewelry. And sometimes she would tell me that she could “see right through my clothes” when I didn’t wear a slip under my skirt or dress. The truth was that dressing “nice” was usually the last thing on my mind. But she would often help me out by buying me jewelry and taking me shopping to help encourage me to wear nice things. Grandma, you can rest easy, I am not naked today. I am wearing both a necklace and earrings you gave me. But, I can’t vouch for the slip....

Every year, for as long as they were able to, I would get a phone call from my grandma and grandpa and the two of them would sing happy birthday to me. After my grandpa died, my grandma would still continue to do this as long as she remembered. On my phone, I have a voicemail from 2021, of her singing to me on my birthday. I recently upgraded my phone, and had a few moments of panic the other day, when I thought maybe the voicemails had not been transferred to my new phone. It is safe. And I listened to it. And her voice is just as I remember it. I hadn’t gotten a birthday phone call from her in a few years until this last march, when she called and I immediately answered. One of the purple ladies at the Palms saw on the calendar that it was my birthday and helped her call me. We had a really nice conversation, and at one point she said “I hope I was a good Grandma to you, but if I wasn’t, there isn’t a darn thing I can do about it now.” It made me laugh, but also cry and told her that she was a wonderful grandma and also how just a few days before that Cassidy and I had been talking about her house on Las Tunas Road, and all the great memories we had there. And it was a great house for a kid to visit, with a hill to roll down, and a basketball hoop in the driveway, the hulu hoop and otter pops in the garage, the game closet in the hallway and the toy closet under the stairs. But it wasn’t the house that made it a great place to visit. It was the people that lived there.

At my grandma’s house, she always had a hummingbird feeder hanging outside her kitchen window above her sink. I loved watching the hummingbirds get their snacks and zip and fight. I still do. The hummingbird season in Indiana is relatively short, and currently I have two feeders on my deck, and one of my favorite summertime activities is sitting on the deck and watching all of their antics. Watching the hummingbirds always reminds me of my grandma. This summer, as I knew that the end of my grandma's life was near, and I wished so much that I could be with her, the hummingbirds were a comfort to me and made me feel near her. This, I believe is one of those gifts that I was able to see in a time that I needed it.

Another one of those small miracles happened just a few days after grandma died. As you know by now, Grandma’s favorite color was purple, and she loved singing with her Choral Belles. I had a small project I was working on at home, to build “something” to cover a well pump in my front yard that was not an attractive feature. I created a planter, and then needed just the right plant for a very shady spot. I went to the local garden center, and one of the very first shade perennials that I saw was a plant called “Forever Purple Coral Bells.” It was pretty obvious that was the exact plant that I needed. Although now the pressure is on to keep that plant alive for the forever part.

But nothing can live forever. That is why we are given the gift of the special memories we make with our loved ones. I have so many great memories of times spent camping and backpacking with all of my family and often friends who were also family. My grandparents were a big part of making camping a part of my being. When we camped, evening campfire songs were always a big part of any family camping trip and we had a repertoire of songs we would sing. When Matthew, Evan and I were discussing this service Matthew asked, should we sing campfire songs? And as I pondered this question, I wondered “what song that we sang, truly captures the spirit of Grandma Cleo?” And then I knew. And we, as in all of us here, are going to sing a campfire song together. My grandpa Dick always led this song. And when we sang it, it often felt like he was singing it directly to my Grandma. I am going to attempt to lead it, and I hope you will all help me out.

The song is a repeat song. So I will sing a line, and you will repeat it back. And then at the end of each verse we will sing the whole verse together. I have copies of the lyrics that my helpers will pass out to you if you would like them. But it becomes pretty self-explanatory as we sing.

The prettiest girl (the prettiest girl)
I ever saw (I ever saw)
Was sippin' ci- (was sippin' ci-)
Der through a straw (der through a straw)
The prettiest girl I ever saw, was sippin' ci-der through a straw. (all together)

She said to me
Come take a sip
And we sipped our ci-
Der hip to hip
She said to me come take a sip, and we sipped our cider hip to hip

First cheek to cheek
Then jaw to jaw
We sipped our ci-
Der through a straw
First cheek to cheek then jaw to jaw, we sipped our cider through a straw


And now and then
That straw would slip
And we’d sip our ci-
Der lip to lip
And now and then that straw would slip and we’d sip our cider lip to lip

And now I have
A mother-in-law
And fourteen kids
Who call me "Pa"
And now I have a mother-in-law, and fourteen kids who call me "Pa"

The moral of
This little tale
Don't you sip ci-
Der you sip beer!
The moral of this little tale, don’t you sip cider you sip beer. Read less

Mom – life in Independence, California
Cleo and Dick Patterson married May 26, 1951. Dad was working for the Department of Water & Power for Los Angeles, at this time, and was working at their Independence, CA office. Mom & Dad lived in Independence, CA the first year of their marriage. Lyn mentioned she was conceived towards the end of their first year there, and they moved back to Southern CA, buying a house in Rosemead, CA on Wells St.
In 2010, I was able to take Mom & Dad for their last trip to Independence as we traveled for a camping trip up to Twin Lakes, just South of Bridgeport, CA. Some of you will be aware that Hwy 395 is the main route to Bridgeport and passes through Independence on the way North. We stopped in at my request and enjoyed a lovely day of reminiscing and viewing where they lived, worked, and played many years ago.
Some of the special parts of the visit were:
Toured the “Inyo County Court House”, where Mom had a secretarial job. We were able to go into... Read more the Court House and actually sat at the very workstation mom worked at back in 1951. One other amazing feature of the Court House is that their front door has a window for the top, approximately, ½ of the door. And that day we were able to witness what I’m sure Mom also saw as she walked out the door at the end of her working day. In bright, bold, beauty is Mount Whitney, the tallest mountain in California. And I’m sure there were times when she was able to see it completely covered with snow!
Visited where Dad’s DWP office was. On this day, it was a beautiful newish building that Dad recalled was being completely rebuilt when he was leaving there to return to the Los Angeles offices. It was close enough to their living quarters that Dad walked to work, about a 2-block walk, most of the days.
We also got to see the small Boy Scout building where Dad was the Scoutmaster for the time he lived there. I don’t recall what the Troop No. was, however, I believe that the Troop in Independence is no longer active. If you are driving North, just as you are leaving the city, on the left-hand side is a small, one room, building without any name or distinguishing marks, that was the Troop building back in 1951.
An even more special building was a smallish, white, 6-room, boarding house. This was Mom & Dad’s “home” for the short time they lived there for the first year of their married life. Prior to being married, Dad lived in a different, nearby home with roommates from work. What was special about this home was the Landlady. Both Mom & Dad remembered her as a very kind, loving, growing older, woman. This landlady had a special habit especially for Mom & Dad. There is a walkway down the full length of the house which the Landlady used frequently to get around the rooms and to her room at the West end of the building. She specifically would tap on Mom & Dad’s window as she walked by, especially in the evenings. They either learned this from the landlady or observed it through experience, that this was her way of suggesting that they quiet down and cease their activities, at least until she walked by and on to the other end of the building. You’ll recall that Lyn suggested she was conceived while Mom & Dad were living in Independence. Apparently, this was one of the times either when the Landlady did not walk by their back window or they ignored her.
And, of course, Mom & Dad were part of the culture of Independence. To this day, the city is known for its Western character, for the citizens loving the outdoors, especially fishing and hiking.
And hiking was a favorite pastime for both parents! They told me about a weekend when they both took off work on Friday and embarked on a hike into the Sierra Nevada mountains to the West of them. Dad showed me a map which clearly indicates that the town in which his cousins lived, Tulare, is almost due West, slightly to the South, from Independence. However, to reach Tulare they would need to, literally, hike over the mountain! And, off they went! Their story has some twists and turns once they get over to the city of Three Rivers. They didn’t have enough money to take a bus back home, so they went into a local bar, made friends with a fellow hiker, and borrowed $5. This allowed them to get a bus actually to Tulare where Dad’s cousins live, the Gists. From there they were given a ride back around the 250 miles of paved road to get home in time to go to work on Monday morning! Oh, to see the glow in both Mom & Dad’s eyes as they remembered that eventful weekend!! Read less

Mom – life in Independence, California
Cleo and Dick Patterson married May 26, 1951. Dad was working for the Department of Water & Power for Los Angeles, at this time, and was working at their Independence, CA office. Mom & Dad lived in Independence, CA the first year of their marriage. Lyn mentioned she was conceived towards the end of their first year there, and they moved back to Southern CA, buying a house in Rosemead, CA on Wells St.
In 2010, I was able to take Mom & Dad for their last trip... Read more to Independence as we traveled for a camping trip up to Twin Lakes, just South of Bridgeport, CA. Some of you will be aware that Hwy 395 is the main route to Bridgeport and passes through Independence on the way North. We stopped in at my request and enjoyed a lovely day of reminiscing and viewing where they lived, worked, and played many years ago.
Some of the special parts of the visit were:
Toured the “Inyo County Court House”, where Mom had a secretarial job. We were able to go into the Court House and actually sat at the very workstation mom worked at back in 1951. One other amazing feature of the Court House is that their front door has a window for the top, approximately, ½ of the door. And that day we were able to witness what I’m sure Mom also saw as she walked out the door at the end of her working day. In bright, bold, beauty is Mount Whitney, the tallest mountain in California. And I’m sure there were times when she was able to see it completely covered with snow!
Visited where Dad’s DWP office was. On this day, it was a beautiful newish building that Dad recalled was being completely rebuilt when he was leaving there to return to the Los Angeles offices. It was close enough to their living quarters that Dad walked to work, about a 2-block walk, most of the days.
We also got to see the small Boy Scout building where Dad was the Scoutmaster for the time he lived there. I don’t recall what the Troop No. was, however, I believe that the Troop in Independence is no longer active. If you are driving North, just as you are leaving the city, on the left-hand side is a small, one room, building without any name or distinguishing marks, that was the Troop building back in 1951.
An even more special building was a smallish, white, 6-room, boarding house. This was Mom & Dad’s “home” for the short time they lived there for the first year of their married life. Prior to being married, Dad lived in a different, nearby home with roommates from work. What was special about this home was the Landlady. Both Mom & Dad remembered her as a very kind, loving, growing older, woman. This landlady had a special habit especially for Mom & Dad. There is a walkway down the full length of the house which the Landlady used frequently to get around the rooms and to her room at the West end of the building. She specifically would tap on Mom & Dad’s window as she walked by, especially in the evenings. They either learned this from the landlady or observed it through experience, that this was her way of suggesting that they quiet down and cease their activities, at least until she walked by and on to the other end of the building. You’ll recall that Lyn suggested she was conceived while Mom & Dad were living in Independence. Apparently, this was one of the times either when the Landlady did not walk by their back window or they ignored her.
And, of course, Mom & Dad were part of the culture of Independence. To this day, the city is known for its Western character, for the citizens loving the outdoors, especially fishing and hiking.
And hiking was a favorite pastime for both parents! They told me about a weekend when they both took off work on Friday and embarked on a hike into the Sierra Nevada mountains to the West of them. Dad showed me a map which clearly indicates that the town in which his cousins lived, Tulare, is almost due West, slightly to the South, from Independence. However, to reach Tulare they would need to, literally, hike over the mountain! And, off they went! Their story has some twists and turns once they get over to the city of Three Rivers. They didn’t have enough money to take a bus back home, so they went into a local bar, made friends with a fellow hiker, and borrowed $5. This allowed them to get a bus actually to Tulare where Dad’s cousins live, the Gists. From there they were given a ride back around the 250 miles of paved road to get home in time to go to work on Monday morning! Oh, to see the glow in both Mom & Dad’s eyes as they remembered that eventful weekend!! Read less