Picture if you will, a little dark-haired girl, smart and serious and only 5 years old. Her daddy had been hurt and now he’s in heaven and her young mama is very very sad. At that time in 1940, Marian Frances Tauber had to grow-up a lot quicker than most other little girls. Her mama and her 2 year-old sister, Judy, needed her and she would be there for them. The sudden and unexpected death of her father was an event that shaped her life and her character is many ways, large and small.
Fran, her mother, (and mine as well, although I wouldn't arrive for another 10 years) had been a farm wife, living with her in-laws, but they too were gone and she had limited financial resources to fall back on; but she did have an extensive family and so for the next 8 years, the three of them would live either in the grandparent’s home or with aunt Marge and cousin Donna in rooms over businesses in Alexandria, MN.
Marian would be her mother’s confidante and willing helper, taking charge of the household and of her little sister, much to Judy’s chagrin. Marian’s high expectations for behavior and her low tolerance for transgressions had an early start.
When Mom married my dad, Hjalmer Soderholm, in 1948, Marian found herself living on a small and rustic farm in Millerville, MN. At age 13 she took on the role of farmhand as well, working very hard fitting in chores and housework around attending high school in Brandon. She never let her schoolwork suffer, however, graduating as salutatorian of her class in 1953.
She enrolled at St. Cloud State Teachers College in the fall. There was still no money in the family, so she took on a care-taking job that would provide room and board and took classes through the summer, earning a three-year teacher’s license in only two years. As a 4 year old, I always anticipated her letters home. She always wrote a special section to me, filled with rebus drawings. Making connections through the mail would be something she practiced her whole life. If you’ve gotten birthday cards from her, you know what I mean. Maybe the only card in your mailbox on your exact date, your address written neatly in her teacher script, the back of the envelope beautifully decorated with stickers applied by John.
A job teaching 6th grade in Renville, MN was offered to her in 1955. She took pride in her teaching and the years of dealing with an unruly little sister had given her the confidence and the discipline skills to turn 12 year olds into scholars. After 2 years in Renville, she accepted a position teaching 6th graders in Mora, MN.
There hadn’t been a lot of time in her life for fun and dating, and her friend and teaching colleague, Diane Stonestrom, thought that should change. In fact, she knew just the person that could put a little joy into Marian’s life; her cousin, Larry Wendberg. She arranged a blind date. I’m not sure if Marian was reluctant to go on that first date. I do know that she was willing to go on a second and a third and a fourth date with this tall, funny and gentle man. In fact, when he asked her to marry him, she said yes and they set a date: August 16, 1958.
They moved into a house that had previously belonged to Larry’s aunt right on highway 47, the main street of Dalbo. (please note— for you out-of-towners, Dalbo does not have any other streets) This same house would later be home to my parents, and also to my husband, Rod, and me when we moved home from Australia and finally to daughter Ann and her husband, Doug.
The family connections ran deep in Dalbo, with Wendbergs and Stonestroms and Rudquists everywhere you turned. Larry’s parents, Blanche and Robert owned the creamery and cheese factory that were the lifeblood of the town and lived on the family farm (within the city limits), brother Joey and his wife Jan were on the adjoining property to the new home that Marian and Larry would build in 1966. I remember the fun that Marian had planning the built-in bookshelves, desks and dressers and the custom designs for her bathrooms, dressing room, pantry and sewing room. That move would be the last that she would make. She would remain in that house for the rest of her life.
The move from Aunt Aggie’s house to the new home was a short one, but not necessarily easy. By 1966 there were six people to move and 4 of them were six years old or less.
The fun-loving couple who used to tool around in a cool two-tone red and white 1958 Olds 88 were now parents to four daughters who were sometimes known as DeeDee and the Rhythm girls. Marian, the good Catholic girl that she was, practiced a birth control method that had a lot of room for improvement, but provided them with a lovely family in short order!
Deanne Dawn was born in April, 1960; Ann Marie, 17 months later; Linda Lou, only 51 weeks later and Beth Michele in May, 1964. Diapers, bottles and busy toddlers dominated their lives; but there were challenges beyond the usual. Linda was born with a congenital hip condition and she spent long stretches at Gillette Children’s hospital and had a brace which widely separated her feet when she might have been crawling. Later on she would have kidney problems that resulted in several surgeries, first an attempt to repair the kidney and then later to remove it. During this time, Beth had surgery as well, for a lazy eye, our mother was hospitalized and Larry had severe back problems and depression.
The care-taking skills she’d developed as a little child and honed as a student and a teacher were called upon in a big way. People depended on her and she came through once again. She may not always have been tactful; she didn’t have time for that, but she was a tiger mother, before that was “a thing”. She did not suffer fools gladly, if they got in the way of her family.
In the early 70’s, Larry and Marian shifted their focus from the creamery where they had both worked, to the farm. “Pigs and Tings” was born. The raised and sold pigs and developed a butchery business. As the girls grew older, they had a bigger role in the business—they developed chops at slicing and packaging chops (pork chops, that is).
By the end of the 70’s and the early 80’s the girls were leaving home for school and marriage. DeeDee and Randy Johnson married in 1981; Ann and Doug Peterson, Linda and Bruce Ellingson, and Beth and Craig Erickson all married in 1983, what a year! The girls whose first initials had spelled out the name of the town—except for the “O” which was supplied by Oscar, the dog, now supplied their parents with some “sons”. DALBO and Sons.
When life should have been getting easier, there were complications. Our mother had memory issues and needed to move to assisted living and Larry had severe pancreatitis that required a long hospital stay. Marian was the steady force that kept everything going. Because of Larry’s health issues they pulled back from business, but kept traveling, making a number of trips to Mexico and Central and South America, often driving an old yellow ambulance with a big Pigs and Tings emblem on the side. Once when stopping for a visit at the Alamo, their battery was stolen. However, among the treasures packed in the back for their friends in the south was a spare battery. Larry installed it and they kept on going.
Larry’s health problems also kept going, but in the wrong direction. He had anemia that required frequent blood transfusions. Anemia became leukemia and the trip he made to the hospital shortly after the family quilting party held on their 37th anniversary would be his last trip. Marian was faithfully at his side for the last two months until his death at 59 in 1992.
She was a widow at 57. By this time, she was grandmother of ten, all living close by. She wasn’t alone, but she was often lonely and would be so for the next 12 years. She kept busy, certainly, with plastic canvas creations, family and church activities and travels with her friend Wilma.
Sept 11th, 2001 was a dark day for America and seemed to kick off dark days for Marian and her family. Shortly after she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It didn’t stop there; our sister was diagnosed with lung cancer, her son-in-law Randy had lymphoma and sadly, her grandson Alan had brain cancer. Other relatives too had serious illnesses.
It was hard to be strong; it was time for a white knight to arrive and so John Wurm came into her life. They started dating in the fall of 2003 and married on May 15, 2004. Now she was mother of 4 and stepmother to 6. A lesser woman would lose track, but not Marian—just more cards to send!
They traveled together to the east coast to meet her new family and took other trips. They shared a strong faith and a love of family. It was wonderful to have a partner as age gave them a few more ailments, including more cancer, nasty lung cancer this time, diabetes and heart disease. Despite the severity of her illnesses she seemed to conquer everything and keep a youthful attitude. It was very evident at the big birthday bash we had for her on her eightieth
birthday. There was a wonderful picture of her in our slideshow last night wearing a lei and sporting an impish grin. I’m going to keep that image in my mind; that after a life of challenges she could still find such joy. If there is a heaven, and I know she believed there is, she is finding lots of joy, reunited with family in the light of the Lord. She was taken from us too soon…as John said, “We only had 13 years together; I barely got to know her.”
But now she has a journey to take and she must take it by herself. I’d like to leave you with these words from Jan Richardson, author, artist and minister:
“If you could see the journey whole, you might never undertake it; might never dare the first step that propels you from the place you have known toward the place you know not. There are vows that only you will know; the secret promises for your particular path and the new ones you will need to make when the road is revealed by turns you could not have foreseen. Keep them, break them, make them again: each promise becomes part of the path; each choice creates the road that will take you to the place where at last you will kneel to offer the gift most needed—the gift that only you can give—before turning to go home by another way.”
Dear sister, you have left us with a wealth of memories and a legacy of love and loyalty…I love you Marian, my one-of-a-kind sister, rest in peace.
