A 2014 TRIBUTE TO MOM UNRUH for MOTHER'S DAY

on her wedding day, in pink

Mom was born Tina Martha Doerksen, the second of two children to Isaac and Marie Doerksen. Her brother Peter (Pete) was two years older. They were small children when 29-year-old Isaac died on their acreage in Montana, to which they had moved from Minnesota. For a reason unknown to descendants, Grandma Doerksen moved to Saskatchewan where she met and married Abram Willems, a recent widower with six children. My mom was now a stepchild to Mr. Willems. Marie bore five more children to Abram and her hands and her life was full of responsibility. The initial Willems six had loved their birth mom and it was difficult to acquire affection for this stand-in mom. At age 17 Pete, left the farm and travelled back to Minnesota and distant family. Losing him hurt mom deeply. This was post WW1 and Pre-WW2 Prairie life, lean, meager, subsistence living. Mom managed to stay in school until grade 9 when she had to go to work, gardening, housecleaning, anything for a tiny stipend. She was a baptized believer, a churchgoer, a choir member, a good lady, very attractive with long dark hair. There were early family incidents, secrets about which she never spoke.

Ed Unruh noticed her when she was 19 and she agreed to marry him when she was 22. He was 26, a very good man, but he also was not a Christian. In the Mennonite community of Hepburn Sk., that relationship was forbidden. She could not be married in the church, and she could not wear a white gown. Those were the graceless cultural rules. Had anyone asked Ed why he was not a child of faith, they would have learned that he didn’t understand mercy and forgiveness. His parents were god-fearing people, and he saw his mother go daily into the barn, bow on her knees in prayer, and he concluded that he did not qualify and could not live up to such devotion. He liked jazz and dance music and an occasional cigarette and a bottle of beer.

But Dad loved his country Canada, and when war broke out, he enlisted in the RCAF, another dissident act in a pacifist community. And Mom gave him up for those war years as she nursed me. I saw him occasionally. She and I travelled with him to Gananoque for one of his postings but then he was shipped to White Horse, Alaska and mom and I were back in Hepburn. In post war years, mom and dad ran their own coffee shop and gas station, made the decision to move to Ontario and dad began working in factories. Mom bore Murray, five years my junior and much later Neale, eleven years younger than I. During those early years, my mother contributed to the family income by sewing clothes for others, costumes for the Ice Skating company, some house cleaning for others, and cooking special meals when commissioned. She developed this into a remarkable home-based catering business and was in demand by wealthy families to serve up delicious custom ordered dinners for many people. Part of her Christian service was head chef at Fair Havens Conference Grounds for many summers. Eventually Mom landed a role with Ontario Paper Mill Head Office to prepare lunches and coffee break snacks. She assembled her recipes to produce a cookbook for which Neale and I provided graphics, and she printed 1000 copies, all of them gone quickly.

During her primary working years the 117 pound young women became a hefty 185 with arms like Hulk Hogan, and then in retirement and following a drastic emergency surgery, she became petite once again. For some early years she questioned herself because she had married a non-Christian, but Dad at age 37 put his trust in Christ. All three of her sons grew up to become involved in Christian work. Her supreme surprise and satisfaction came from recognition of her leadership skills by other women and their investment of confidence by electing her to President of a Christian women’s organization. For several years she wrote monthly articles and marvelled that a grade nine grad could have accomplished this.

She lived until November 2007 when she was 88 years of age, her last years being difficult until her mind could not recognize her predicament any longer. She is in paradise now, as surely as when Jesus spoke to a convicted felon impaled beside him, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” If true for him, then certainly for her.

Ronnie's Baby Years

Number one son. Well, at least I was firstborn of the three sons born to Edward and Tina Unruh. Home was the town of Hepburn, Saskatchewan. My two siblings stole the show when they finally arrived. Pictures reflect that life was simple. The homes were wood frame on the open prairies and before required insulation standards. These photos are part of the inheritance that comes to the sons when the parents are gone after eight or more decades of life. Octogenarians and ninety year olds have seen so much change during their lives and I thought my folks handled all of it well. Dad was in the Royal Canadian Air Force during the first years of my infancy and childhood. World War II waged overseas. I got a lot of attention from mom and from the extended family since I was the only little squirt around at the time. As lean as the economy may have been I had a great looking pram, a wash tub and a tricycle but not much understanding about where I should ride this three-wheeled machine. Here I am in the thick stuff which I have found a good deal of the time in my adult years when I golf. I love seeing my dark haired young mom in these early pictures. My brothers didn’t know her this way because she was prematurely grey by age 30. Yes I know what some might say, that it was me who did that to her during my first five years. The photo with the little dog was taken in Mountain Lake Minnesota during a trip my mother took to see her brother Pete. Her visit was taken during one of my father’s deployments with the RCAF. I had great natural curls didn’t I? For as long as we can remember, mom kept our pressed curls, all three of us, in separate paper envelopes in her dresser drawer.

ROD DOERKSEN - WE ARE MISSING HIM

A NEW LEARNING
Rod Doerksen was my cousin. March 21st is the anniversary of his death in 2003. As far as his wife and two adult daughters and his sister were concerned, he was far too young to die. He was only in his middle years. Dying when he did, he missed his eldest daughter’s wedding. He wasn’t here for his first grandson’s birth. Because he was known as a good man by everyone in his community and church and family, he would have been a wonderful grandfather. All of us miss him very much.

I met him when we were both children. His parents lived in Minnesota. In following years I lost contact with both Rod and his sister. He resided in California. Then in 1991 Christine and I moved to British Columbia and I reconnected with both Rod and his sister. Now he and I were both adults, married and with grown children of our own.

Both of my brothers had opportunity to visit with Rod as well when they travelled west and for the three of us, the reconnection with these two cousins was like finding a long absent brother and sister. Rod’s father and my mother were siblings, the two children of Montana settlers who had come from Minnesota. When my mother was two years of age and her brother was four, their dad died, and their mother was alone without government assistance or any other help. She was directed to Saskatchewan where she met a widower with six children. Then together this pioneering couple had five more children. My mom’s brother (Rod’s dad) left the family home in his early teens to return to Minnesota. There he married and farmed and had two children. He died at an early age of forty or so and from what I recollect his death may have resulted from factors connected with the same genetic disorder that complicated Rod’s life and compromised his health.

Rod was strikingly tall throughout his childhood and youth and as an adult his height compared to some of the tallest NBA basketball stars. He suffered from Marfan syndrome (or Marfan's syndrome) which is a genetic disorder of the connective tissue. It was so named after Antoine Marfan, the French pediatrician who first described the condition in 1896 after noticing striking features in a 5-year-old girl. The gene that makes the protein fibrilin, and gives skin and connective tissue its stretchy feel, is faulty. Because connective tissue is found throughout the body, Marfan syndrome can affect the skeleton, eyes, heart and blood vessels, nervous system, skin and lungs. People with Marfan's are typically tall, with long limbs and long thin fingers. The most serious complication is defects of the heart valves and aorta. It may also affect the lungs, eyes, the dural sac surrounding the spinal cord, skeleton and the hard palate. There is no cure for Marfan syndrome which does shorten life expectancy which has increased significantly over the last few decades. The syndrome is treated by addressing each issue as it arises, and Rod lived through many procedures and corrective surgeries.

Wonderful husband, father, brother, son, friend and a good, good person. Thank you Lord for allowing Rod Doerksen to touch our lives.

Saying No is a Valuable Life Skill

A NEW LEARNING
No is the new Yes. That’s the way I am interpreting it. ‘Yes’ has been my standard answer to everyone’s request of me. Pleasing people was my directive. If people of a certain age can wear purple, then I can say ‘No’. It may shock people. I suppose I should have started saying ‘No’ much sooner than I have. I am not being flippant about a ‘No’. I believe that a ‘No’, can be positive. There may even be power in a ‘No’. A positive ‘No’ may be one of the most valuable life skills I have picked up since retiring.

I raise this theme because I needed to say no to a great opportunity recently presented to me. My reasons were personal and legitimate. It would have required a considerable investment of myself and my time. I have other preferred personal projects on the go. Love that alliteration! As I considered the proposition I felt the pressure of meeting expectations. The “P’s” are dominating this paragraph. At other times in my life I may have said an immediate yes, or a reluctant yes which I might regret later. This time I felt justified in saying no. I feel good today that I did say no. It was a struggle for me.

Understand that I still have a high sense of responsibility to God in my life and I won’t say no to Him, so my ‘no’ was predicated upon a subjective inner peace that I am not being disobedient by declining a human invitation.

What this is pointing to is freedom. A free person has the power to make or to refuse social interaction with other willing people. This is freedom to say no, freedom to be independent of others’ expectations. I look back now on a life of service to others which I do not regret yet I am surmising that I should have said no more frequently for the sake of my children and my wife and maybe at times even for my own sake. No has the power to transform our lives by enabling us to say Yes to the things that truly count. It’s hard to say No when you don’t know where you are going and how you want to get there. To lose weight I have to say No to Krispy Kreme. To live within my retirement budget I must say No to iPhone. Maybe you don’t but my point is my success is based on my ability to say NO.

A book has been written entitled ‘The Power of a Positive No,’ offering advice for saying No in any situation. It emphasizes saying No without jeopardizing relationships by saying it clearly, respectfully and effectively but for the purpose of arriving at the right Yes. Saying No is a valuable tool for time management, avoiding overload, overtime and Stress with a capital ‘S’.
PS. Guys can do purple too apparently. There is a Purple Store Website.
Some sports teams do purple.