In Memorium

Ian's mother died a couple days ago, in Glasgow, Scotland. She would have been 88 this August. Mum was an especially dear, exceptional woman. She raised 15 kids in not the best circumstances, yet never lost her sense of humor. Mum was the best mother-in-law I could ever have hoped for. First, she raised Ian for me. Well, she got him just so far, then handed the job to me. I remember asking her once when do men grow up, and, typical of her humor, she said they never do.

The first time I met Mum in person, Yvonne was just a couple months old, and I was quite nervous to meet Ian's family. I remember her going out of her way to make me comfortable and feel at home. One time I was cutting the cores out of tomatoes to slice them when it was either Ian's sister Yvonne or Isobel who said they don't do it that way. Mum cut right in and said it was perfectly alright for me to cut the tomatoes like that. I also remember the time when Ian's younger brothers doused her with water from the upstairs bedroom window when she went out the back door. I was expecting a huge row, maybe a whipping or two (that's what would have happened in my family), but she just shook her finger at them and said, "You'll get yours!" Sure enough, it wasn't too long before she was calling them from that same upstairs window, they went running out the back door, having let down their guard, and she poured a bucket of cold water right on top of them. I thought it was hilarious and such a great response. During that same visit, Yvonne wouldn't get to sleep one night, so Mum took her upstairs. It wasn't too long before she came back down with Yvonne sound alseep in her arms. I was surprised and asked how she did it. "Rub a wee bit of scotch on her gums," she said. Alright, I must admit I wasn't too amused at the time, but Ian assured me for years that that was a common remedy in Scotland.

The first time we spent New Years Eve with Ian's family, I dreaded their tradition of sitting in a circle and every person having to entertain with a song, a joke, a story, etc. I was mortified, as I was quite shy at the time and couldn't imagine entertaining that big brood all by myself. Mum must have seen it in my face, as when it came my turn, she said I didn't have to do it. Ian's brothers said that wasn't fair and kidded me about it, but she told them to be quiet and went on to the next person. Oh, I was so grateful for her empathy then! I felt like she had saved me from the lions.

For years I'd spelled her name with an "h" at the end. While in Turkey I had a bracelet made for her with her name on it, again spelled with the "h." It was only a few years ago that I learned she never spelled her name with the "h" on it, and that I was the only one who ever referred to her as Sarah, rather than Sadie. Rather than correct me all those many times I'd misspelled her name, she saved face for me, took it in stride and even said she thought it was prettier spelled with an "h" on the end, and even though she used to never like the name Sarah, she always thought the way I pronounced it was very pretty. Now, how can you get any more humble, accepting and loving than that?

Over the years, Mum came to my rescue time and time again. I always felt she was on my side and she always reminded Ian that he'd better treat me right! She needn't have worried, though, as she'd taught him well. I had worried for years that she would hold it against me that Ian married an American and never moved back to Scotland, and I finally got the nerve to ask her about that. She said no, that moving to America was the best thing for Ian to do at the time, there was nothing for him in Scotland, and that he and I getting together was the best thing he ever did. She always assured me that I was a good wife and a good mother. Mum was truly the ideal mother-in-law. She was my hero, my mentor, and I've always strived to be as much like her as possible.

I can't imagine being responsible for 15 children, yet Mum did it successfully and gracefully. No one is the perfect parent, as the kids don't come with instructions and you can't get the experience before they come along, but some have a knack for doing it better than others. Some parents who have every advantage imaginable produce children who are addicts, belong in mental institutions, end up in jail, abuse their families. Some parents who have nothing but their own perseverance, patience and limitless love manage to produce children who contribute to the good of society and make their parents proud. I know Mum loved all her children and was extremely proud of all of them.

Mum loved to travel and we were so happy to have her visit us in the U.S. and Turkey. She was always up for adventure. Once when she was in Turkey, we took her to a ski slope where Scot would be snow-boarding all day. Mum was content to sit in the restaurant, watching her grandson speed down the slope, then ride the tram back up the mountain, over and over again. She loved Istanbul, all the hustle and bustle, the clash of cultures, and having a McDonald's hamburger in the midst of it all. In Seattle, Mum stepped out onto the deck surrounding the top of the Space Needle and walked around it to get the 360 of Seattle.

When we were stationed in England we got to spend a lot of time in Scotland, and I got to know my mother-in-law very well. I saw how she was kind, thoughtful and loving to all her daughters-in-law. I admired that she could overlook our immaturities, our finding fault with her sons, our mistakes in raising her grandchildren. She loved each and every one of us. I also was in awe of her unconditional love for her children. I never saw judgment of them, only pride in all of them. It seemed that she thought she just got lucky, but I knew better. It takes more than luck to have that many kids and have them all make you proud.

Mum cooked some great dishes that I could never master. Whenever she visited us, I asked her to make mince, a dish of boiled hamburger with carrots, onions, and spices. It was so delicious I could not get enough of it. She never used a recipe, but just seemed to know how much to put in and when it all looked just right. I tried to make it several times, but finally gave up. It was inedible when we'd been spoiled by the best. She made the best lentil soup ever. Ian is a great soup maker, but his lentil soup will still take some time to match hers. Mum's tater scones were the first I ever tasted, and I'm sure I'll never taste as good scones as hers again. I do make them for Ian often, and he's satisfied with them, but I know they'll never measure up to Mums. Her meat pies - she made it seem so easy to make them, but I know better. I'll probably never even try those, as I'm sure they would go the way of my mince. On the other hand, Mum loved my cakes and cookies. At least, she acted like she'd never had anything so good. She was a joy to cook for, as she showed such appreciation.

Just a few years ago I asked Mum if she knew how many grandchildren she had, and she surprised me by naming them off, one by one, on her fingers. She missed none. If I remember right, there was something like 17 or 19 at the time. Then she went on to count her great-grandchildren. They counted around 37, I think. By now, who knows what the numbers are. I just hope that they all got to know Mum, Granny, Great Granny as well as I and my kids did. She was a wonderful grandmother, even from a distance. Yvonne and Scot always knew she loved them, could laugh with her on the phone, and felt a great affection for her. She passed along her pride of being Scottish to not only her children, but her grandchildren, too.

Sarah Steenson was a tough Scottish woman. She was proud of being Scottish. She was a smiling, laughing, tough, proud Scots woman. She was my mother-in-law. My husband's mother. My childrens' grandmother. She was many things to many people, but I only know first hand what she was to me. Mum was someone for me to look up to, to experience that unconditional love that we all need, to watch and listen to in order to be a better wife, mother and grandmother myself. She will not be forgotten, as she touched my life and so many others. She was the matriarch of the Steenson family, and the Steenson family was blessed to have had her at the helm for so long. God bless her soul, as He blessed us with her.