The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.2004, Page 27

Vol. 59 #2
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
69
treats for the grandchildren. All summer
long, she would wear that hat outdoors and
retire it the following spring when it was
time for another trip to Portage. Long
before anyone had heard of the UV index,
Amma cautioned us to wear hats outdoors
as protection against the sun’s strong rays.
On summer evenings, we took turns
helping Amma get her free-range fowl back
into the hen house where they would be
safe from nighttime marauders. They were
pesky creatures to chase, harder even to
catch, and it was not one of our favourite
tasks.
In the winter, we used to come into her
kitchen to find a huge kettle of fish - usu-
ally suckers or jackfish - boiling away on
the wood stove. The boiled fish made good
chicken food, but the smell was nauseating.
Equally strong was the smell of her
homemade lye soap. We have a favourite
family story about the time our youngest
brother and sister - preschoolers at the
time - found Amma stirring up a batch in
the basement. They thought she was a
witch and could not get away fast enough.
I wonder if she ever knew.
Amma knew a lot of things, especially
when it came to raising children. A birth-
day in the family meant presents for every-
one, although the child celebrating the
birthday got the biggest parcel. Most often
her packages contained handkerchiefs and
socks from the Army and Navy catalogue.
As we grew older, our excitement over
these gifts diminished, but we never quite
got over the anticipation of a birthday in
the family.
Giving Amma presents posed a prob-
lem, however. We tried giving her clothes;
she packed them away until she “needed”
them. Amma never needed anything new as
long as what she had would stand one more
mending. What’s more, she was scandal-
ized at the cost of clothing. She remem-
bered a dress she ordered from Eaton’s
after her daughter was born in the early
1920s. It was a nice dress in a blue print
material, she said, and it cost 25 cents.
While she was still in her own home,
we gave her household articles. She put
them in a trunk and passed them along to
the next grandchild to get married.
When my husband and I opened our
wedding gifts after a weeklong honey-
moon, the parcel from Amma included a
decorative cushion from Malta, Montana -
a souvenir gift she received from my dad
and uncle after they spent several months
in the United States in the early 1950s. It
was an appropriate gift, since we ourselves
had been in Malta during our brief holiday.
My husband bought a denim jacket there.
There is no way Amma could have known
we would visit there. We had no scheduled
itinerary for our honeymoon; we just got
in the car and drove. But the coincidence
made the gift more special.
Amma spent eight years at Third
Crossing Manor in Gladstone. Until the
last year when a broken hip necessitated
the use of a walker and eventually a wheel
chair, she remained active and took pride in
being responsible for posting daily infor-
mation on the bulletin board. She contin-
ued to knit and read and she never forgot a
family birthday. She died just before
Christmas, 1988, following a massive
stroke. In less than three weeks, she would
have turned 98.
Amma lived a long and full life that
stretched from the days of oxen and open
campfires to the days of computers, space
travel and microwave ovens. It was an
impressive life span, but longevity alone
cannot account for the respect and love in
which we all held her.
Amma taught us about the importance
of family. By her example, we learned again
and again that hard work has its own
rewards, that a positive outlook can make
all things possible and that a mind that
remains open to the future can never grow
old. Those lessons have as much relevance
today as they did a century ago.
Some things never change.