Today marks one year to the day that I lost my mother, Veda Maxine Lowrey, June 20th 2019. It has been a turbulent year not just because I faced a future without her, but because of all the changes that have happened in the world. I can’t remember a year in my life that has been so full of worries and changes. I have never cried more in my life.
I wanted to take a moment to tell you about my mother, your Grandmother, and more about my childhood. My mother was born into a large farm family on the eastern side of the Colorado Rockies. In a small community on the edge of Boulder County, Co. called Hygiene in 1930. There were 6 living children and two that passed away before reaching adulthood. She was the youngest living child. They were not wealthy people but the family was close and loving. My mother attended school and graduated from Boulder High School in Boulder County Co. where she met my father. They first met at a school dance. He had moved to Boulder with his older brother to find a better life from the small town of Dalhart, TX. They married in 1948 and had 4 children. I am the youngest of the four and the one that gave her the most gray in her hair. I am 15 years younger then my next sibling.
Your GrandMother was a stay at mother until the unexpected death of my father in 1973. I was 5 years old and nothing can prepare you for the death of your father as a child. But my mother stood true through the storm that rocked our family. My brothers and sister were older attending High School and College when the even occurred and I am sure that they were more devastated then even I was at the time. The end result was that my mother, the heart and soul of my world, would have to leave her home to work to support me and my siblings. From somewhere down deep she was able to find the courage and support to move forward in her life. Your Grandmother did not drive when your Grandfather died. That all changed very quickly at the time. My Uncle Bob and Aunt Corky (Cordella her sister), supported her through the changes that would come. My uncle took my then 43- year old mother out on a dirt road, out past the Boulder Resivore, and taught her to drive. We had three cars at the time (one was an old Packard 4 door sedan, a Dodge van, and a Plymouth 4 door sedan) and she could not drive any of them; how frustrating that had to be. My Aunt helped her get her name on all the legal documents. Her name was not on our house or cars because she did not have an income… How times have changed. Today, it is expected that I’m on everything your father and I own, working of not! She was able to get a job at the same plant my Dad and Uncle worked at on the outskirts of Boulder.
Rocky Flats (later Dow Chemical) was a nuclear bomb parts plant creating plutonium triggers for nuclear warheads during the years of the Cold War. My father was a welder at the plant and my Uncle Bob was an inspector. My mother’s first adult job was a cook in the plant’s cafeteria. She would go on to work in the foodservice industry for the remainder of her life. At one point owning her own cafe in the chemical engineering building at the University of Colorado.
I spent many summers with her at the cafe stocking and cleaning. Spending other time roaming the campus alone. I remember her cooking meals and desserts at home so she could be home with me after school. She only worked from 6 am to 3 pm and headed home by 3:30 pm. I never remember missing dinner with her because of work. She made it a priority to work early mornings. She would often fall asleep in her beloved recliner at 4:30 after a long night and early morning at work. We would make 6 or 8 trays of brownies at least once a week, to sell to the professors on campus.
Sometimes I would help cook the main dishes for the next day’s special. I vividly remember making chicken enchiladas with her rolling the chicken and chilies into the very hot fried corn tortillas then watching her pour the red sauce over them and covering them with foil. The trays were loaded with 50 enchiladas that she would transport to the cafe’ the next day and heat in the oven.
She loved to travel to see her sister in Oregon, where we spent 4 or 5 summers. She loved to spend time near the ocean and reading in a camp chair on the campgrounds we stayed in. We had many fun times in the woods whether it was camping with my Aunt and Uncle, taking a picnic near a creek, or in a park. She loved to be outdoors but was not an outdoorswoman. (I totally feel the same way) We often took car trips to mountain towns like Ward, Central City, and Black Hawk before they were gambling towns. She loved to shop at the stores in Estas Park and we rode the train at George Town. You both now have ridden the train.
My time with my mom as a kid was mostly peaceful and quiet. She loved to read and listen to music. She did not seem to mind cooking at home and would often host the whole family to our home for holiday dinners. I remember having 10 and 12 people at a table for birthdays for her and her sisters.
Your Grandmother loved flowers and our yard always had something blooming. She had the most wonderful roses that bloomed all summer. Her favorite was a giant wild yellow rose bush that my father dug up along a road somewhere. The bush grew to well over 6 feet tall and 10 feet wide and was covered in thousands of thorns. She had to a velvety red rose that smelled so sweet. Mom would battle them every year pruning them into shape and enjoying the flowers on our dining table. She loved to take care of her yard and trees. It was something she got pride from, being alone in a house, in a good part of town, and taking care of it the best she could. I was proud of it too.
She loved her Broncos and along with my brothers was a life long fan. I remember the noise that she would make even alone in the living room stopping her feet, whooping, and hollering during the games. She rarely would cuss, but when one of the Broncos receivers missed a pass, it was not past her to say “SHIT” or “DAM” if the ball was dropped.
My brother Bill, once told me that my mother was a shy person, reserved and quiet, I had no idea. Because at home she was chatty and loved to talk to her sisters either by phone or in person. She had a few friends that she would see regularly and attend events at school like all parents. She was so open at home I would have never told a friend that she was shy.
As I grew up, Mom and I loved and hated each other equally. I was a terrible teenager and she was tired of raising kids. I often felt alone even with her in my life. She could not fill the loss that my father left in me and those feelings were compounded as my brother and sister married and moved away. I was an angry and lonely young woman. We fought and she was harsh and I was a “runner” and spent many years running away from home, staying with friends, or getting kicked out. She could be critical and judgmental and I was hurt often. It took effort for me and her to be close but we tried to find a middle ground. As you age you try to make friends with your parents and I did.
We would never see the world the same way but we could share in reading books, loving flowers, listening to all kinds of music and food! We always had food!
Your Grandmother once told me why she never remarried. She said,”It was because she never wanted to be told what to do ever again. She had one boss and that was enough for her.” I often think about her life and see that she never really needed a man. She was content with herself and her family. She was not worried about what other people thought or did. She had what made her happy and that was family and a big dinner table.
I often wonder what she would think if she could see us now? Would she laugh that I work in construction surrounded by men, working in dirty clothes, and being my own boss? I think she would!! I was always playing in the dirt with the boys and she called me bossy more than once. I don’t think she would understand my need for social life and my passion for community development. But, she would support me in taking on the problems in my community. She raised us kids to be strongly opinionated people just like her. To be true to what we thought was right and to work hard to succeed in finding peace in solitude and a loving family.
I miss her and often, wishing I could talk to her about the last book I read or how the kids are doing in school. I wish she could have been proud of you boys like I am and known that her love continues to grow in our family like that wild yellow rose bush that she loved.