When I think about your mother, how would I describe her?

I have written enough about my siblings for a while, so I'm going to skip to this question about your mother.
   It would be easy to define Mom in terms of her disabilities, but that does not give a very accurate picture.
   Your mother is a very headstrong individual.  She isn't easily intimidated or swayed when in an argument.  She does not accept my opinion on things just because I know a thing or two.
   I realized early that this was a blessing.  I know that I would not have cared, for very long, to be with someone who had no back bone.  It has meant that I have to explain, present evidence, argue, etc.  Often I have used my angry or impatient voice when in these discussions.
   "How long have you known me?  How often do I do the cooking?  How often have I messed up a dish I was cooking?  Then why won't you believe me when I tell you...blah, blah, blah."
   So, we have had these little arguments often.  I wouldn't have your mother give in just because I think I know everything.  These little rough spots in marriage usually smooth out over time.  Couples that fit together perfectly are not ever found randomly.  But over time the rough spots wear each other smooth, and the result for the couple who love each other and are dedicated to the proposition that marriage is the supreme or highest form of humanity--the result for such a couple is that they come to fit each other perfectly as the work together over time.
   Mother is a woman who accomplishes things.  She is conscious of time and pushes to be ready on time, whether we are leaving for a vacation or leaving for church.  As a Relief Society president she took visiting teaching out of the cellar and into the stars.  She did this by shear effort and attention.  Your mother is ten times more dedicated to her callings than I have ever been.  For her it is a badge of honor to get things done.
   Mother does not hold grudges.  She does not hang on to old mistakes and bludgeon me with them when we argue.  She hasn't been dedicated to the old saying, "Never let the sun go down on thy wrath."  When she reaches a point in an argument from which there is no moving forward, she usually goes to bed, sleeps on it, and wakes in the morning forgetting the issue.  I don't mean forgetting in the sense of not being able to remember, but that she lets it go.  This has been hard form me, because I am a "Don't let the sun go down on your wrath" kind of guy.  And, I usually want to end arguments with mother admitting that I was right and asking me to forgiver her.  Well, that's never happened.  Well, maybe it did once, but your mother has always defended her own honor and dignity.  I've learned to live with that.  Mostly it has taught me to be a better man and to never challenge her honor and dignity by forcing my will in an argument.
   Because Mother doesn't hold grudges long or continue arguments past a day our marriage has been one of bliss and happiness.  I have had to learn to try and be the same.
   Mother has always loved to read.  In the early years she read romance novels by Barbara Cartland.  I teased her about these.  She gave them up.  With her children she has read the likes of Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings.  Now she reads YA fiction and keeps her Audible account busy buying and exchanging books.
   Mother has always been a hard worker.  While I was working on my Bachelors Degree and doing my student teaching mother worked at the Pleasant Grove nursing home, at the elementary school's lunch room, and as a cashier at the grocery store.  We sorely needed the money.  Before Jacob was born Mother worked as a para-educator at Scott Community High School.  After Jacob was born mother went to work on her Associates Degree and now uses that degree as a substitute teacher.  The sub directors love her because she is very flexible, willing to sub in any class at any age.
   A year ago I had a group of boys who made it their business to try and disrupt my class.  Their antics didn't bother me much, but when Mother subbed for me, they taunted her and bullied her to the point of tears.  It was then that I realized that I couldn't let the students deal with me the way that I had, or they would treat my subs that way.  So, I began cracking down on them and over the past year has set records in sending boys to the office.  I have high hopes that next year's students will adopt the new culture of "We respect the teacher or the sub."
   When Mother and I made the decision to move to Missouri, she never once complained; instead she has been 100% supporting and enthusiastic.  I feel terrible about moving the daughter of wealthy parents into a shed, but she has never felt that way.  Our first summer here I spent in professional development for Monett high school.  Mom spent the summer scrubbing out the shed to kill the black mold which was everywhere.  Mother has never complained about living in poverty.  She has never said, "I'm sick of living like this," or "Why can't you be a better provider." She truly lives the old wedding covenant, "for richer or for poorer."
   Mom has shown incredible strength facing my cancer.  She cried when we first found out, but since has been the greatest support to me.  She has truly lived the covenant, "in sickness and in health."
   Mother doesn't like to cook.  (Don't tell her that I said that.)  And she's too distracted by other things that she would rather do.  Cooking requires tender loving care.  You can't do that out of a book.  So, I have often offered to do the cooking so that I could eat my cooking instead of hers.  There are some things that Mother is very good at.  She wanted to learn how to make bread like my mother and I taught her.  She never gave up when she produced a wheaten brick (which didn't happen often).  But she was determined and learned and became very good at it.  These days she doesn't bake much anymore because she is avoiding carbs.
   Mother has never "let herself go."  Aunt Lee commented to Uncle Joe when Mom and I were first married something to the effect that, "She's good looking now, but wait until she's had a few kids."  And later she was surprised to see that Mother kept her self in good shape.  This was never a worry for me, and it isn't something that I would ever have pestered her about.  (Given my weight, I never would have been in a position to do so.)  Mother takes care of herself.  On the other side of that coin, Mother has never scolded me for being out of shape.  She has never tried to slap a donut out of my hand.  Hahaha.
   Mother is dedicated to the gospel.  This was the thing that persuaded me to pop the question.  Mother was attractive physically, but her speech was slow due to the train accident.  But she did have a great faith in the Savior.  She sometimes worried about the strength of her faith--why wasn't she immediately and completely healed from her accident?  But, in fact she has incredible faith and has overcome the effects of her accident, raised five children, served in the Church in many callings at all levels.  Over time her speech has improved.  Her walking has improved.  Her cognitive abilities have grown.  She has progressed in every way.  All of this has come about gradually, but through her great faith and the promises of the priesthood. I can't say that I could see that Mother would progress so far.  The doctors told me that she wouldn't progress any further than she was at the time I met her.  I married Mother because of her faith and because the Spirit guided me and directed me.
   Mother is constantly encouraging.  All the time she tells me that she is lucky, meaning lucky to have me.  That show of appreciation feeds my soul.  Of course, I tell her that I am the lucky one.  When I think of the guys who could have had her, but rejected her because of the changes brought on by the train accident, I feel like the King of Burgundy in Shakespeare's King Lear who marries Lear's banished daughter, Cordelia, saying that he takes up the gem which others have cast away.  

Jonny

Jonny was born on the 18th of December, the same day that President Joseph Fielding Smith died.  I was at a youth Christmas dance at the 22nd Ward building when the announcement was made.  I was about 15 or 16 years old.  I am least acquainted with Jonny out of all my siblings.
   He was about three years old when I went on my mission, just barely able to call me a missionary.  I wasn't spending many waking hours at home during those years.  I was busy with school, work, and basic teenagering.  (If adulting can be a term then so can that.)  Anyway, Jonny was still toddlering when I left for Finland.
  Jonny had a bit of a difficulty pronouncing his r's as a young boy, so Mother had him learn a little song.  "Choo choo, the big train is coming down the track now.  Stop, look, and listen.  Stop, look, and listen."  He pronounced it mostly with w's in place of the r's.  "The big twain is coming down the twack now."
   When I returned home from Finland I also spent very little time at home, so I missed out on much of Jonny's childhood.  The little burro I had brought home from the Grand Canyon before my mission was the family pet.  My father build a pony cart that Jenny would pull around the neighborhood.  This was great for Jonny and Lucy.  Howard also loved the little donkey.  At some point boys in the neighborhood, perhaps out of envy, began teasing the kids and the donkey until she nipped at one of them.  Dad was not willing to risk a law suit and decided that the donkey would have to go.  Howard's heart was completely broken.
   Jonny was a typical youngest child.  Spoiled a little.  But also he developed some annoying ways that his older siblings went out of their way to correct.  I never felt good about that.
   So, I got involved in college and marrying your mother and starting our family and so had even less to do with Jonny.  And shortly after we started our family my parents moved to Missouri and took my younger siblings along.  I lost complete contact with Jonny at this point.
   Jonny served his mission in Colombia.  When Jonny was born he had very dark hair and dark eyes. (It's supposed to be impossible for a son of blue eyed parents to have dark eyes, but Jonny did--proving that genetics alone do not determine who we are.)  Anyway, my father was teaching in BYU's Lamanite program--designed to help Native American students gain what they needed to succeed in the university.  He was inspired to say that Jonny would be a missionary to the Lamanites and named him Jonathan Ammon after the Book of Mormon son of Mosiah who converted Lamoni.
   Jonny has never had much positive to say about his mission, not that positive things didn't happen, but when he has spoken with me it has been about things like terribly awful things cooked on a grill, little children in the church who had American fathers (previous missionaries).  Jonny picked up an ameba while on his mission--a little microscopic organism that lives in the gut and wreck havoc on one's health.  Anyway, I'm sure that there were positive points on Jonny's mission, and he's never spoken of it in a way that would indicate he was sorry to have served.
   I remember Jonny's wedding to Clara.  This was dad's last child to marry off, so while we had a luncheon at The Olive Garden, Dad went on, and on, and on telling the jokes and stories that all of us (with the exception of Clara's family) had heard a thousand times.  It's as if Dad sensed that this would be his last chance to monopolize a wedding luncheon and he was loath to be done with it.  Hahaha.
   Jonny has certified as an educator and is doing a great job as a high school Spanish teacher.  He and Sam have a very close relationship and spend considerable time sharing their craft.  As an avocation Jonny has started forging knives out of discarded pieces of steel.  He often posts he projects on Facebook.  These are amazing products that sell at very high price.
     

Lucy

Lucy was born while my mother was working on her Bachelor's degree in Elementary Education.  I remember vaguely the times that mother would talk about he college classes as we sat around the dinner table.  It was an inspiration to have an educated mother.
    Lucy was the sweetest little thing ever.  Always cheerful, always happy.  At least that's how I remember her.  On one occasion she was playing pirates in the basement with Howard and Sam.  She came dashing up the stairs and announced, "I love playing with those boys.  They're so gross!" and promptly dashed back down the stairs.
    My mother had decided (out of financial necessity) to do he own appliance repairs rather than to pay a repairman.  She was working on the clothes washer one day and needed some muscle to loosen a bolt.  I provided the muscle and mother went on with her repair job.  She would check out from the library the a book about the particular repair, find the trouble, remove the offending part, and replace it.  My own propensity to do the same was learned from her.  And she did it in the pre-YouTube, pre-Google days.  After I helped Mother with the repair, I started up the basement stairs.  Lucy, who was Mother's shadow in everything, came running up after me, gave me a hug, and said she loved me for having repaired the washer.  Of course, I had done very little in the process, but it felt great to have the admiration of such a sweet little girl.
   In elementary school, Lucy and Jonny took Spanish Emersion.  Mom and Dad fiddled with Spanish a little in those days as well.  Lucy and Jonny also got into the business of making suckers and selling them at school.  They had a set of sucker molds (the round suckers), and a variety of colors and flavors.  Lucy to this day, still makes wonderful treats in her kitchen to raise money for her family.
   I did not get to know Lucy as well as my older sisters, mostly because I didn't spend a lot of time at home after my mission.  Soon your mother and I married, and shortly after that my parents moved to Missouri.
   Lucy tells me of the struggles she had with reading and with bullying in the public schools.  The scars are deep.  I didn't witness any of this, so I can only go on what little I have heard from Lucy herself.  This is an unfortunate thing, because Lucy is very intelligent and could have picked up reading sooner than she did, and with less pain.  On the other hand, I witness first hand what happens when the education system leaves poor, poverty stricken schools to suffer on starvation budgets and the materials are not available and the professional development is out of reach, and the technology is sub par, and the books are is sorry condition, and the buildings as well.  But, Lucy had a mother that read to her.
   In her teen years Lucy gave my parents a scare with some cowboy she dated.  They were worried sick.  Everyone was happy when Lucy converted Brian Byrd and started her family.  Brian is very quiet around me and other members of the family as well.  I can only suppose it has to do with difference of opinion on political matters, but it doesn't matter.  Brian chooses to avoid me, and I choose to let him.
    When Dad died the family (mostly Howard) worked out a plan to take care of Mother.  Howard build an add on to Lucy's home where Mother would live out her days in close company of her daughter and grandchildren.  Lucy's own home was partially renovated in the process.  In exchange, Lucy would care for Mother, 24/7 if necessary, so that Mother wouldn't have to go to a nursing home.  This was at great financial cost to Howard, and great personal cost to Lucy.  She earned everything she got in the deal.
   Mother was not hard to care for until the last several months, but Lucy had to take Mother to her blood and other treatments and to advocate for Mother when the doctors weren't doing their jobs.  On one occasion mother was on an imaging table. Lucy in the other room could hear her crying.  The Dragon Lady came out and gave the doctor what for.  I know from personal experience that those imaging sessions are not always very pleasant.
    Just after Mother's passing, Lucy had her last daughter whom she has named Nora.  She is as sweet and wonderful as I remember Lucy being all those years ago.  My father used to say that the grandmother's bring the babies, and Dad named Lucy after his mother because he felt her presence at the birth.  So, little Nora was brought my her grandmother.  And I suppose Nora will be blessing to Lucy to the end of her days.  It's a pretty romantic story, really.