MOM’s Legacy  

From your beloved daughter, DeAnn. I love you MOM!

What is a legacy? I looked it up and my loose translation is “something left to you from another when they depart from you.” For me, the legacy mom left is both direct and indirect, what to do and what not to do. She would want me to take the best of the best and learn from the rest:

What is mom’s greatest legacy… her strength, family, relationship, traditions, stories, and most importantly her faith (God’s miracles in her life).

I’m not going to paint this picture of this larger than life character because she really did live an average life… or so it would appear, until you spent time with her and heard some of the stories about how God answered her prayers or how she got herself into shenanigans, seemingly all the time.

Mom’s legacy of strength- My first real memory or impression of my mom is her strength as a young single mom. It was the three of us against the world and mom believed she could do anything she put her mind to… and she did. It has always been special to me this belief led her to landing a job at the Space Needle. Six years at the top in Seattle, literally.

Mom’s legacy of Family- if you were family… you were in. It didn’t matter if you were immediate blood or if you were once or twice removed. If you were part of her family lineage you were accepted with open arms, celebrated, and loved fiercely. Because of this Barrett and I grew up with a great appreciation of our family and our large extended family. That has been a gift I am very grateful for.

Mom’s legacy of Relationship- Mom has been a loyal and faithful friend. She has had amazing relationships over the years… especially the friendships she had with her mother, her Aunt Dewey, her sister, her brothers, her sisters-in-law, cousins, 3 close lifelong sisters from other mothers, and so many others. She loved to laugh and share life’s enjoyable moments together. She was also fiercely loyal and supportive. When she became a Christian she also felt a strong sense of responsibility to make sure those she loved (and humanity in general) knew the love of God and the relationship they could have with Jesus. She really didn’t want any to perish but all to come to know the Lord as their Savior.

Mom’s legacy of Traditions- Her never-ending celebrations of life from hosting holiday events at the house to creating amazing luncheons for Christian Women’s Clubs. The many times she loaded Barrett and I into the car and hauled us (and maybe a couple of our friends) from Kent all the way to White Center to play at the playground Astroland, just because we loved it... to all the Mariners games, roller skating events, our childhood activities (baseball, soccer, dance, piano, etc.), drive-in movies, little family weekend vacations, and the list goes on.

Mom’s legacy of Stories- Mom was a master storyteller (a gift she got from her dad and Barrett got from her).

like the many times Barrett and I woke up before her in the morning and got into mischief, for instance the time there was flour spread all over the house with little white feet prints everywhere and flour on the eyelashes of the little boy who denied any involvement (probably the instigator)… so she finally had to put a lock on our bedroom door

or the many stories of her childhood, her standoff with a moose as a young girl, steam shooting out it’s nostrils with every breath while standing there chewing it’s cud as tears froze to her face… until she got the moment to jump on her sled and make her escape, to the time uncle David was born on Christmas day after grandma fell off a chair trying to put the star on the tree and landed on the baby in her tummy, to the time that same adorable little boy was “shirun!”

Then there were the Space Needle stories… the King of Norway, the Duke himself John Wayne, Joanne Worley, the fun story of a childhood friend Rudy (No, No, Nannette), and so many more (LARGER THAN LIFE)

I loved listening to every story… over and over. I remember saying, “Mom, tell the one about…”

Mom’s legacy of faith in God and His miracles in her life- when mom accepted Jesus as her Savior at 30-yrs-old she was all in from day one. A new creature in Christ. As she loved to repeat the quote from her sister, “Saved to the Bone!” She dove into Church, Bible studies, and ministry. She didn’t go out for a meal without leaving a tract for the waitress or take a ride on a plane without sharing her faith with the person seated next to her. Every encounter was a “divine appointment” and she was going to share her Jesus, if given the opportunity.

Her best stories were the miracle stories, whether it was something God did for her directly, how He used her to bless others, or just telling about the blessings He provided to those she loved. The story of how she remembers running circles around Grandma Smith while playing as a small child while grandma would kneel and pray for this entire family, all who are now Christians (What an amazing Legacy!). Or how God provided an entire holiday meal with a few “baked potatoes” is a favorite of mine. Or how, when I lived in Kansas City for a year God gave me a plane ticket to go see my brother in Texas for Christmas so I wouldn’t have to be alone in (as Barrett calls it, misery) by bumping mom to the next flight… I remember she didn’t want to leave me and go to Seattle for the holiday and then I got that call from a pay phone in the airport, “DeAnn, God provided your plane ticket!” So many amazing stories. If she knew you, she was either praying for you or had at some time. Toward the end she spent her days listening to sermons, taking notes, studying God’s Word and praying for her loved ones. I often called her for an encouraging word or just to ask her to pray over me in that moment. Mom was a strong Woman of Faith and she wanted everyone to have the free gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ, God’s Son (John 3:16).

Mom proudly carried on the legacy of the strong, amazing women that came before her, giving herself to society through her ministry, working for the salvation of the lives she touched and forging the lasting connections that improve family ties for generations

I'd like to close with the nonsensical, whimsical poem she used to recite to me and Barrett when we were little:

Two Dead Boys by Chalsey Wilder

Ladies and gentleman skinny and scout

I'll tell you a tale I know nothing about

The admission is free so pay at the door

Now pull out a chair and sit on the floor.

On one bright day in the middle of the night

Two dead boys got up to fight

Back to back they faced each other

Drew their swords and shot each other.

The blind man came to see fair play

The mute man came to shout hooray

The deaf policeman heard the noise

And came to stop those two dead boys.

He lived on the corner in the middle of the block

In a two story house on a vacant lot

A man with no legs came walking by

And kicked the lawman in his thigh.

He crashed through a wall without making a sound

Into a dry creek bed and suddenly drowned

A long black hearse came to cart him away

But he ran for his life and is still gone today.

I watched from the corner of the table

The only eyewitness to facts of my fable

If you doubt my lies are true

Just ask the blind man, he saw it too.

Treasured Memories of Donna Jon

It was Mother’s Day 1983 (?) when we first had opportunity to spend time with Donna Jon. We all (our family of husband Doug, Travis – then 7, Joy – then 4 ½, Krista – then 2, and myself Barbara) with DeAnn and Donna Jon attended Woods Chapel Baptist Church in Blue Springs, Missouri. We all invited them to come home with us for lunch. This began our family’s journey with Donna Jon.

A couple of things stood out to us as being so important to Donna Jon – her children and her ministry. At that time she was involved with Stonecroft Ministries in Kansas City. She often told us of opportunities she had to give someone one of the Stonecroft-published booklets.

Donna Jon was a story teller. We learned about a bear in her mother’s yard, many stories of parents and how the Lord helped them, life in Alaska as a child, and Stonecroft experiences, like the time she roused suddenly from a lunchtime nap. She saw she was late getting back to work and rushed out of her living quarters, not realizing she had forgotten to put her skirt back on. She was escorted back to her place in her slip to retrieve her skirt.

Doug was transferred to Illinois after having been in Blue Springs for three years. Donna Jon came to visit. Taking a drive through the country to show her the area where we now lived, we saw fields with “cow plops”, and every Christmas after that she sent us a box of Milk Duds (which resemble cow plops).

Donna Jon always had a sense of when we needed a visit from her. I would tell her that she was our shot in the arm. One of those visits came when I had severe pain in my spinal cord and had no clue what was going on (turned out to be demyelination of the spinal cord due to multiple sclerosis). Donna Jon provided encouragement and physical and emotional comfort.

Donna Jon was our first guest in our unfinished home in Idaho. It was Christmas time, and we went into the woods to find a tall tree – our ceilings were 18 feet tall. To decorate the top part of the tree we had to scoot it over to an upstairs hallway open to the living room below. Then we scooted the tree back to the spot we had picked out and decorated the bottom part of the tree. Also in the unfinished house was pink insulation covered by clear plastic where windows would be. Donna Jon made improvements by drawing on the clear plastic.

Among other memories of Donna Jon is the book she wrote. Pointing the reader to the Lord, the humorous stories describe her adventures with her children and others. Other memories are hearing how love won over a difficult fellow employee at Donna Jon’s first job at a camp in the Seattle area; picnicking at parks; hiking in flip-flops; ministering to people in the home church we attended for several years; sorting through recipes; snuggling with our grandson Sam.

Donna Jon continued to visit us until her health deteriorated. And we went to see her a couple of times in Federal Way.

I will miss writing to Donna Jon every month. I often asked her to pray for someone/something. And I knew she would pray. And I knew the Lord listened to her prayers.

Donna Jon was a woman not only of faith, but also of faithfulness. And she was one of the most expressive people I ever have known of her love for the Lord. Heaven is rejoicing over their new resident. And I look forward, as said recently, to sitting together with her at the feet of Jesus.