Agnes Ardella Voss was born Feb. 18, 1926 in Grand Meadow, Minn. to parents Carl Bernard Voss and Agnes Ellen Allaway. She was #9 of 14 children. I don’t know a lot about my mom’s childhood. She was born with scoliosis which curved her spine and caused both of her hips to come out of socket. When she was about 4 or 5, the family lived in the Toppenish area and Agnes had to have corrective surgery in Seattle to enable her to walk. She remembered that her mother couldn’t go, so she had to ride the train from Yakima to Seattle with a nurse. She didn’t remember the details of the surgery, just the train…and not having her mom with her.
After the surgery, she had casts on both legs that ran from her feet to her waist. Mom remembered that when she was about 5, the casts came off and she basically had to learn to walk again. Her mom (my Grandma Voss) sent the other kids away for the day and told little Agnes: ““Now you need to walk.” And by the time her brothers and sisters got home, she could walk…kind of. She would walk the rest of her life with a bit of limp. She told me one time that she could never really run like the other kids did and she never rode a bike. Because of her physical challenges, she learned to express herself in other ways. She loved music, loved dancing, and for a while she played the piano. She took violin lessons for a short time. In her childhood, she also became very skilled at knitting and crochet and sewing.
Sometime in the spring of 1946, Mom met a strapping young man named Russ Turner. They met on a blind date set up by her friend Dolly Cornwell. Cupid’s arrows certainly must have sharp that day because it wasn’t long before they were head over heels in love. Much to the delight of all of us kids and grandkids in the later years when we found out about it, Russ and Aggie eloped to Anaconda, MT after a whirlwind 3-month romance and were married June 15th, 1946. When Mom recounted this story to me a few years ago when I was preparing Dad’s eulogy, I teasingly scolded her and said, “Mother! I’m shocked!” She smiled and said, “Well, look how long it lasted.” Look how long it lasted—54 years in this life and all the years of eternity in the life to come.
The newlyweds set up their home in the Yakima Valley. Mom told us that one of the first places she and Dad lived in was a little 2-room dwelling that was a converted chicken house. My guess is Dad worked on that house and got it almost finished and Mom made it a home. They always made sure that we had a safe, warm place to live and food to eat. We never lived in a palace and rarely dined on steak, but we always had a safe house, a warm bed, and food to eat (beans and cornbread, goulash, mac & cheese with the white cheese sauce, red velvet cake). Tondi remembers Grandma’s fried eggs for breakfast, the good kind cooked in the bacon grease.
Those are some of the facts of my Mom’s life, but our lives are made up of more than facts. It’s an old cliché but I think it’s true. When we die our headstone has two dates separated by a dash. What’s important isn’t the day we’re born or the day we die, it’s all the days that are rolled up into that little dash on our headstone, in Mom’s case, a little more than 29,000 days. Mom had some great days—some challenging days too, like we all do, but some great days. And if you could ask my mom, she’d tell you that her greatest days were usually centered around us, her kids and grandkids. Family was the most important thing to Mom. Her greatest joys as well as her deepest sorrows had to do with her family. I don’t think Mom would have wanted it any other way.
My brothers and sisters and I at Mom's funeralThe night before the funeral, my brothers and sisters were all at my house. It was a wonderful night. It was the first time we’ve all been together since Dad died in 2001. Who knows when we’ll all be together again? That night we were all swapping Mom stories and my brother Russ told us one I’d never heard before.
It was his first night home from Viet Nam. He was in the Navy, but attached to a Marine unit, so he spent all of his time in Viet Nam on land. He’d seen some pretty horrible stuff. I know it was horrible because he never talks about it…ever. Mom and Dad had moved from Colorado to Washington while Russ was in the Navy, so when he came home, he didn’t have a bedroom. Mom made him a bed on the couch in the living room.
The whole family went to bed but Russ couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was anxiety, fear, excitement, anger, or terror. He couldn’t relax. Mom either heard him stirring or sensed it and came out to see what was wrong. “I can’t sleep,” Russ told her. Those three words spoke volumes that only a mother could understand. She pulled the chair over to the couch and told him, “You just lay here and I’ll hold your hand until you fall asleep.” She held his hand, and stroked his head, and stayed there until he fell asleep.
That’s the kind of mom she was.
Since she passed away, I’ve had lots people talk to me, either in person or on the phone. They’ve all been very kind, and many of them have expressed their sorrow and have offered words of comfort. I’ve had a few people tell me that they know I must be very sad. When someone we love dies, of course we feel a loss. There is a quote I heard once about the death of a loved one that says: I know she's not really gone, but the world still feels smaller to me today. I think that’s how I feel. Heaven let us borrow an angel for 80 years. My faith in God the Eternal Father and in His Son Jesus Christ teaches me that our souls or spirits are eternal children of God. If you can look at it from an eternal perspective, we are not just human beings, toiling through this life searching for spiritual experiences. We are spiritual beings having an earthly experience.
I heard a talk once that compared our eternal life to a 3-act play. If you believe that our soul or our spirit is eternal, that we are spiritual children of a Heavenly Father, then that time before we are born into this world is like Act One of the play. When we are born into this world and our spirit receives a physical body, that begins Act Two. For a lot of people, they think Act Two is all there is. Any English teacher will tell you that in a 3-act play, most of the conflict and drama that the main character experiences takes place in Act Two. Act One kind of sets the stage and introduces the characters; Act Two is where the action is. So it’s natural to think that Act Two is the whole story. But I’m going to let you in on a little storytelling technique—nothing gets resolved in Act Two. In fact, often Act Two ends on a cliffhanger. The resolution of all the conflict and the eventual triumph of the main character happens in Act Three. So when we leave this mortal existence, our spirit is still alive. That’s the beginning of Act Three.
Preparing to conduct Mom's funeral1 Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.
2 In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
4 And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.
5 Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?
6 Jesus saith unto him, I am the away, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
8 Philip saith unto him, Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us.
9 Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father;
16 And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
17 Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.
18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
26 And the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
What is this peace the Savior spoke of? Is it worldly peace? This peace is the knowledge and assurance we have of eternal life. It’s the comfort and security we feel in knowing that families can be together forever.
Tom and I after the graveside service
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