A date I will always remember

Looking back with gratitude for a life well lived

Mom was one of five children on the farm when her father died, but a number of years later, her mother, Regina, met and eventually married a widower with seven children. And, surprise, surprise, together they had five more, bringing this truly blended family to 17 kids.

Today's the day, 16 years ago, that we all said goodbye to our mom.

It was a sad and difficult time, of course, but now my sisters and I and all of mom's grandchildren look back only with great joy and enormous gratitude that we had such a special person in our lives for so many years.

Dorothy Jean Wachsman was born on June 1, 1916 in the small town of Elgin, North Dakota, the county seat of Grant County in the southwestern part of a state known for its brutally cold winters, its homesteading heritage and its amber waves of grain.

The daughter of German immigrants, whose father died when she was only 7, Dorothy would always consider herself a North Dakotan, even though she spent the last 57 years of her life in Davis.

Her kids and grandkids loved her stories of growing up on a farm and playing girls basketball for the Leith High School Pirates. They especially liked the stories of how her brothers would take turns escorting her to school through the winter snow using actual horse power.

Mom was one of five children on the farm when her father died, but a number of years later, her mother, Regina, met and eventually married a widower with seven children. And, surprise, surprise, together they had five more, bringing this truly blended family to 17 kids.

To this day none of my sisters or I can name all 17, several of whom we never met.

A couple of weeks ago an NFL star gave a commencement address at a small college in Kansas during which, among other things, he basically disparaged women who work for a living instead of staying home.

I wish he had met Dorothy Wachsman.

As a young woman during the Depression, my mom left Leith for the big city of Bismarck, where she earned her nursing degree under the guidance of the nuns at St. Alexius Hospital. It was there where she became perhaps the most devout Catholic I ever met.

When we moved to Davis so dad could go back to college after serving in World War II, out of necessity mom would travel every night to a hospital in Woodland, where she would work the midnight shift as an R.N. while her five children slept at home under the watchful eyes of our dad.

She'd be back in time to make breakfast, pack our lunches and kiss us goodbye as we rode our bicycles to Central Davis School where the Farmers Market now stands.

Dorothy Dunning with four of her five children on Picnic Day 1954. On left:  Jo Jo and Bob; On right: Patsy and JJ.

She'd be there when we came back home in the afternoon, joining us all around the dinner table, helping us take a nightly bath, singing us songs and talking about our day before tucking us into bed, then leaving silently for work again.

As a five-year-old, I pretty much didn't even know she had a job.

Shortly after her 92nd birthday mom suffered a serious stroke and declined quickly. My oldest sister, Mary, herself a Nurse Practitioner, moved mom into her home in Vacaville so mom could spend her last days in comfort, surrounded by those she had loved for so long and so well.

No more than 60 seconds after mom drew her last breath, the doorbell rang.

On Mary's front porch were two kind, well-dressed young men from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, proving once again that God has an exquisite sense of timing and a subtle sense of humor.

After an awkward moment or two, they were welcomed into Mary's home and prayed with the family members present. Two devout Mormons praying with a family of devout Catholics. The Good Lord must have been pleased.

I'm sure it's a story that those young men share with their friends and family to this very day.

They say with God there are no coincidences.

This was clearly no coincidence.

You can reach me at bobdunning@thewaryone.com