Judy, Judy, Judy…
Did you know that Cary Grant never uttered those words in a movie?
But then, he never met our Judy, that special woman that we honor and remember today?
Our sister, mother, grandmother, partner, aunt, cousin, our friend?
Judith Carol Tauber was born on December 3, 1937 in Alexandria, MN just as the nation was limping out a depression and into a world war. There may have been plenty of tough times for people, but on that little farm near Evansville, life was pretty good. There was grandpa and grandma Tauber, father Francis (with an i) known as Frank, and mother Frances (with an e) known as Fran or Frannie and big sister Marian.
If “the deepest definition of youth,” as Alfred North Whitehead has said, “is life as yet untouched by tragedy,” then Judy’s youth was short, for when she was only two, her father died tragically and her mother (my mother, too) was deeply depressed by the loss.
When Judy was 10 Mom married my father, Hjalmer Soderholm, and the family moved to a farm near Millerville. The accommodations were far from luxurious, no indoor plumbing, only a space heater in the living room to warm the house, and a sometimes icy attic room to sleep in. Judy loved Dad, but, rest his soul, he was seldom outwardly loving to his stepchildren and was a tough and rigid taskmaster. She learned to work hard on that farm, and hard work became one of the cornerstones of her life. I’m not sure when she took on the nickname, “The Workhorse”, but it was long established and well earned.
In 1955 she was valedictorian of her class at Brandon High and she moved to the big city to make her own way. A year later, she married Lee Freske in Urbank. I was 6 years old and dressed in white too like my big sister. It was the longest, but most glorious day of my life to that point. The ceremony was at 10:00 am, followed by a wedding lunch and later, a wedding supper and then a night filled with waltzes, polkas and schottisches.
Lots of food and lots of fun…two more cornerstones of her life.
The suburbs were growing in these postwar years and Lee and Judy joined the exodus from the city to a clean and tidy rambler with a detached garage on Violet Avenue in Brooklyn Center. They contributed to the baby boom with three little girls; Sheila in 1960, Sandy in 1962, and Susie in 1964.
Judy had begun building a career as a legal secretary, making herself invaluable to her bosses through her work ethic, lively personality and flying fingers on a keyboard or a steno pad. I’m amazed at how she could pack so much into her days, for the demands on this young mother were more than I would ever face with my own three children. You see, her precious first-born, Sheila, was handicapped from birth and a bout of encephalitis in her first few months made her handicaps profound. She was blind, and would never be able to dance or sing. Sandy and Susie were bright and creative and pure joy to their mother, but caring for Sheila truly brought out Judy’s huge capacity for love and compassion. Sheila was cared for at home for as long as possible, but eventually went to live in a hospital. She went to join the angels in 1971 at the age of 11.
I’m not sure if Judy ever fully confided to anyone the extent of the impact of Sheila’s death—the sorrow, and the sadness of a mother who could not save her child. I think from then on, she sought out and recognized Sheila in all those she met and she did whatever she could to help us when we could not see clearly, all she could to help us walk tall, sing our own songs and dance lightly in this world. Despite our admiration and appreciation I think she never felt like she could do enough, but darn it, she was going to keep trying, to the last breath in her body.
I don’t know as much as I should about those days and years after Sheila died. I was in college and I soon married, moved to Australia, saw the world and moved back home to begin my own family. I was busy with my own life.
Judy and Lee moved to Brooklyn Park in 1978 to a larger, more comfortable home, but not a more comfortable life together and they divorced a few years later, after 23 years of marriage. But look, 23 years later, they were back together again for mutual aid when ill health affected first Lee, then Judy. They remained supportive companions to this day. Lee’s loss is as deep as anyone’s could be.
That’s unconventional, but not unexpected from Judy. Expansiveness was another cornerstone. Her openness, warmth and affection were abundant and could encompass the world. Ah, the world…she saw a lot of the world with her traveling companion, David Fjoslien, whom she’d known back at Brandon High. Together they visited Russia, jumped out of planes over China, walked through the townships of South Africa and even saw the penguins of Antarctica. They were always off on a cruise, or an adventure to Kodiak Island in Alaska. Together they got to 6 continents, but not Australia.
Her favorite traveling companions though were of a different sort, her grandson, Mike, Mikey who she loved so much and was so proud of, and Merry, the high-flying schnauzer. Mike and grandma had an adventurous trip together to Padre Island, Texas—ask him about it, if you dare and Merry was a constant companion and a faithful friend where ever Judy went.
Perhaps the travel she enjoyed the most were the recent annual trips to Mexico with her girls, Susie, Sandy and Katie. Many of pictures in the slideshow last night displayed their raucous fun together in the sun. The last trip was a hard one, but a treasure to hold on to.
Judy worked as hard as ever as the girls grew up and moved away. She contributed to her profession, serving as president of a legal secretary’s association and was named as “Legal Secretary of the Year.” It was one of many recognitions she received, but that we seldom heard about. She went on to other jobs that used her business, legal and personal skills. As a mortgage lender at President Homes, she found the satisfaction and challenge of putting people into new homes. She found a calling in real estate and pursued that until it became too difficult this year to pound that “Sold” sign into the front yard. Chances are, many here today came to know Judy first as clients and left with the perfect home and a new friend.
Judy, too, went in search of the perfect home and found it here in Mora, at the Hersey House. She’d had a hankering over that house for a long time, and it finally became hers in 2001. It wasn’t the showplace it is today, but it had good bones and Judy set about making it a reflection of herself. It wasn’t long after she came to town that cancer came too. Mean, nasty, aggressive lung cancer. Surgery and chemo were rough. Somehow, she still found a career in real estate and a niche in your community. There was healing therapy in refurbishing the rooms of her future bed and breakfast. It had to look good for the celebrations to come…first, a wellness party in November 2002, when the scans were clean. That was a memorable day.
Later, Hersey House visitors from all over would see the Vasaloppet from her door, the Historical Society that she was deeply involved in would have tours there…hundreds of trick or treaters would get their bags filled with candy, and family; always family.
Her table was gathering spot for the Schoenack girl cousins for a weekend of stories and laughter and…of course, lots of food and drink. The weekend would include a trip to Mora Unclaimed Freight. We could spend $2 and try to bring back the best treasure…the story was the thing. Last year, 10 of the 11 girls were there…amazing, only Nadine from Germany was missing. Perhaps you saw the dignified group portrait last night. Oops, was that Judy flashing us?
There are great stories to tell, and perhaps the best stories are the one that only you know. Hold them in your heart but share them with her family. You, the people of Mora, she loved you and she loved your community; you, her family and friends she listened to you and encouraged you and held you up in times of trouble. She’s not here anymore to love and guide and work till the job was done. Now it’s up to us…let’s make her proud, lets make the way we live our lives a real memorial to her.
Today you saw Judy dressed in red and black and looking fine. She has a bottle of champagne and a fishing hat and other treasures to take with her and today she also has her red cowboy boots. Last night, I was talking to Rose, a coworker at Northern Lights, someone that Judy had mentored and encouraged, and Rose asked whether Judy was wearing those boots. No, I didn’t think so. “Well,” Rose said, “she told me she was going to be buried in those boots. Don’t you want to pass them on to some aspiring young woman?” “Hell, no,” Judy said, “let them get their own!”
The last few months have been painful ones for Judy. Those who loved her were grateful that her last day was comfortable and that she was surrounded by loved ones, her precious and devoted Katie nearest to her when her last breath came. The ten who had sat vigil were distracted for the first time all day when she exited gracefully and with class as always.
Katie had spent all her weekends and when college was done for the year, all her nights as well caring for grandma. She asked Judy that when the time came to come to her in her dreams. On Sunday night she felt a weight and a pressure on her chest…a last hug from Grandma. Judy believed in angels, and now she is one.
I think she visited me as well. On Saturday I had told Judy that I was planting sweet corn in the morning…she loved corn on the cob… When I came home tired and grieving on Sunday and went to have some toast I found a little pile of dirt on the counter. Strange, I thought as I brushed it off. There was another little pile on my desk. On Monday I returned to the garden, a place of comfort for me, but cleaned up to get ready to drive to Mora to help with arranged. I had sat down at my computer to gather music and when I got up there was a 3rd little pile under my elbow. Judy, I said, are you playing a “dirty trick” on me? That just the kind of mischief she would do.
We can believe that all is well with our Judy and now she is hostess at an eternal table with mother, father and our aunts and uncles and all our dearly departed in the nicest little piece of real estate in heaven. God love you Judy, You know I do.
No comments:
Post a Comment