She was a helping hand to her husband, Don and family. Worked beside him on their farm for years, and then in town when Don purchased the local Mobile Gas Station. I had known them from the time I was just able to walk clear on through the almost sixty-three years of my life.
Mama played piano in the band with Marge and their "gang." Only, Marge was able to make that wonderful music for 54 years, mama only lasted about 15 before leaving this earth to join heaven's musical troop. But those days are permanently embedded in my heart. My best childhood memories are wrapped up in the times that Marge and their crew of musicians and friends would gather together. It was just about an every week occasion. There'd be potlucks and barbeques, corn on the cob and homemade pies. The kids would ride the pigs at Fairchild's farm and chase chickens. And then there were the days that the group would play at the Ogden City Hall dances. I would often climb atop the chair trolley piled high with coats and fall fast asleep while the band played on, tired from all the running and chasing each other and shenanigans with the other kids there. I would often be found standing on my dads shoes while he held my hands tight and danced me around the room to the tunes. To my knowledge, there was never a charge to attend the dances, never a fight, and parents never had to worry about their kids who were there. It was "that special time" that today's world will probably never have the pleasure of knowing. Unlocked doors, smiles that would greet you on the street and people actually talking together as they physically gathered together regularly in each others homes.
When mama and Marge and the gang weren't playing music together, they'd play cards, or go watch whatever events were going on at the park or just wherever.
Putting Marge to rest was difficult. It brought all those "good time" memories flooding back to me. I have those flash backs once in awhile and the result is always the same...tears. And then the whole "I know things would have been different, if only"... thoughts. If only mom would have been here to play those 54 years along with the band. Gotten to meet my husband and her two grandchildren. Shoot! She probably would even have had them both inducted into the band long ago!
Marvelous Marge. Aunt Modge, to me. She and Unca Don served as pivotal role models in my life. Of good, kind, warm and loving people. Of what "good people" are all about in life. I miss them. And I will miss just knowing that she's around. But I know good and well that she's joined mama, Fred, Chet and so many others gone on, as part of heavens band now. I know too, that on some days...especially when I'm feeling a little lonely or down, if I listen really hard...I will hear a few of those heavenly strains just when I need them most.
This is my "Thank you" to Marge for all that she was (and is yet) in my memory. Cherished memories of another place and time, another world. One that helped sustain me through a long spell w/o those I loved the most closest to me. I drew strength from them. And everyone who ever knew Marge these many years past, could in deed draw strength by her exemplary life.
Good bye dear, Marge. Tell my mom I'll be there when the final sun sets for me. And I'll know just where to go when I get there when I hear the music playing.
Post Script:
Life changed dramatically for me at about age 12 when mama was diagnosed with cancer. I saw very little of her around the house, or dad. They were always having to go to Iowa City or some such other medical facility and or hospital. Our dear old sweet neighbors, Clyde and Daisy Hall looked after me some. She fixed great lunches for me every day when mom was gone. Not sure, as my memories of those days is so fuzzy, really where I spent the nights or even how I got to school most days. I think I went on my own for the most part. When mama died I had just barely turned 15 the month (almost to the exact day) before. Just when I needed her the most. Dad didn't seem to want me around anymore and I was left to fend for myself until my oldest sister-eighteen years my senior, (who I barely knew) took me into her home.
Marge represented the end of a great era in my life. She represented all that was good that I possessed from a vague and all too brief childhood. Her passing brought it all back to me and has probably affected me more than I can even realize. I do know one thing, even though we don't always see those who are special to us daily, or maybe not very often at all in our busy day to day routines, just knowing that they're gone can do a number on us. Unique and special people being gone from us, never to be replaced, can poke a right big hole in our hearts from time to time. And filling that empty place with just a bit of the essence they've left us as their legacy can help.
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