Whew-
It's been a long time since I've posted. So much to say, so little motivation... I hate bloviating, but
since it's the occasion of the 13th anniversary of my dear mother, Helen's passing, I thought I would compile a little tribute to her.
To say that God broke the mold when He made her would be the understatement of the year. She was certainly a trailblazing woman of the 20th century. But she had faults aplenty.
Here is a tribute I put together of her today that includes some sweet poems she had written for family and friends. Love you, mom!
A tribute to
Helen Southard Johnson
June 5, 1914 - July
25, 2000
Helen, the oldest of 10 in a poor Irish Catholic family skipped the 2nd
grade (she was a bright one) and most of 4th when she and her 3
younger brothers were quarantined with Diphtheria and Scarlet Fever for four
straight months in the late 1920s (her poor mother!)
After graduating high school early at age 16, she wanted to
enter nurses’ training, and tried to pass herself off as 17 to the nuns who ran
Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh. When
they suspected that she wasn’t being truthful, and they told her, “go home to
your mother, dear,” she spent the next year working on a river boat with the
cook, her aunt Kate Sweeney, on the Ohio river between Pittsburgh and
Louisville. She did enter nurses
training at 17 at Johnstown Mercy Hospital. Helen graduated 2nd in her class, after some
memorable times, like when she defiantly dared one of the nuns (who had falsely accused her ) to punch
her. After graduating in
’35, in the middle of the Great Depression, she went to work for $ 1 a day,
doing twelve hour shifts at the Benson Sanitarium, a private hospital in
Philipsburg, PA. Her first paycheck
went to buy shoes for her younger siblings.
She met Burt Johnson when he was a patient of hers in the
‘San’, as she called it. He had been admitted with appendicitis, but, at home,
his young wife, Louise, mother of two teenagers, was dying of a brain
tumor. Mom fell in love with him, a married man, but said
nothing. A year later, Burt, a recent widower, came
looking for her. When he couldn’t locate her in any of the bars in town, he
found her walking out of church.
They were married 3 weeks after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He was 13 years older than she. At age 27, Helen became a stepmother to
two teenagers, and 10 months later, the mother of a newborn – and one year to
the day after that, a second son.
In less than two years of marriage, she was a mother of 4! Five years after that, another son was born another, and five years later, I came along.
Now, those of us who knew Helen well also knew all her
shortcomings. She was probably a
much more compassionate nurse than a mother, and we wear the scars. But there were a lot of mitigating
circumstances to consider, too.
I’ve heard her described by one of her children as being lazy. I doubt he knew that she’d had serious
problems with anemia all her life, and had to take B 12 shots regularly, as
well having suffered debilitating migraines, which took her to John’s Hopkins
hospital in Baltimore for answers.
Anyone who was ever critical of her wanting to retire when she became a
widow at 54 didn’t know the history.
But retiring didn’t exactly mean sitting in a rocker. Mom was a good neighbor, always gave generously to the poor and had a very big
heart. I remember her going to deliver the babies of our neighbors (who lived
in squalor) and their knocking on the door at night. Mom discovered during one of the deliveries that the baby
was actually twins- which she delivered with no help - and one was breech! She also took three little
children and their mother into her home for several months who had been left to
freeze in their house in the middle of the winter by angry relatives.
In her retirement, she tried acting at age 55. She was fearless and quite a
natural. She also began to
volunteer teaching reading. One of
her students was the daughter of a friend who had been a Special Ed teacher,
but who’d never been able to teach her Down Syndrome daughter to read. Mom succeeded, and that was a source of
great pride in her life. In her later years, she was a daily mass goer and
lector. Mom was well aware of her faults and spent
a lot of time asking forgiveness and
trying to make amends.
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading a bit about her legacy. Today is the 13th
anniversary of her passing. Below
are some of the poems she had written to grandchildren, other family members and friends.
If you’ve enjoyed this short tribute, lease pass the link to anyone who you think might be interested.
And I'd love to hear your memories of Helen!
Thanks!
Julie (Johnson) Linn
Morning
The sun is shining~
It’s almost blinding!
But oh so warm and lovely.
Let’s hope the clouds and rain nearby
Stay well above-ly.
‘Tis the Night Before Easter
‘Tis the night before Easter
And all over the house
My family is sleeping
On beds, floor and couch.
Bright eggs have been hidden
For children to find,
And I go to bed with
An easier mind.
They’ve gotten here safely
From journeys so long.
Thanks, God, all my worries
Have been proven wrong!
A Prayer
Bless us, O Lord
And the things that we do.
Let all of our actions
Show true love for You.
Bless, too, Lord those who aren’t
With us today
And those who have, over the years,
Gone astray.
Through your mercy and grace
As we love them and pray,
Let their hearts turn again
To your Son’s perfect Way.
A Diary
A gift to Kelley
Johnson
Write all your secrets and dreams
In me.
I’ll never tell, and you have
The key.
Frustrations and anger and
Happiness, too,
Can all go in here, but known only
To you.
When we’ve gotten old, and you have
Turned gray,
You can read me again, and I know you
Will say,
“Dear diary, thanks!”
Then put me away.
(I
love you. Gram)
To Christy
Ten
I can’t believe you’re 10 years old.
Are you quite sure of this?
Did you have ten candles on your cake,
Blow them out and make a wish?
Your mother and father surely know
And have the papers to prove it’s so.
I know I’m getting old and slow,
But how could you grow-
So fast, so tall?
You used
To be
so
small.
On the back of that paper, she had written this: (a daily
puzzle/hobby)
Moribund
Morbid Morn Mound Mind Round
Rind Bound Bond Bind Bund
Burn Born Undo Drum
Dorm Dour Dumb Drub (18)
(I think she made some of these up ;)
A Wedding Prayer
For a friend’s daughter
My prayer for you
My dear young friends
Asks God to bless you
Through the years.
He gives the grace,
If you ask for it,
To share your happiness
And tears.
His love is great
It’s always there
And when you call on Him
He hears!
Valentines
(for her grandkids )
Thank you for the Valentines,
Thank you for the notes,
And thank you for the picture
Of four kids on whom I dote.
I took pictures of my pictures
(there are ten of you,
you see)
If they are good, I’ll send you one
And they are bound to be!
Each subject is so sweet and dear
And bright and kind and free.
Every one who looks at them
Says they ‘take after’ me! J
On Your Retirement
To her sister,
Virginia,
on her retirement from
Honeywell
The ‘poems’ I write
Are short and trite
And this one’s no exception.
I have for my sister, Mary V.
A very great affection.
We have lived together
For more than a year
And I’ll say she’s a pretty
Good sport!
A suggestion was made
That I should give
A sort of progress report.
Well…
She finished school in ‘41
And went to work for
Mother Bell
She traveled east and south and west
Then ended here at Honeywell
.
(cont’d.)
Her years with you
I’m sure you know
Were good and quite enjoyable
But she’s not old enough
To hang it up
So, she’s once more
Employable!
Prednisone
I’m chasing after 82
And believe you me,
I know it.
If I just make it to June the 5th
In case I don’t and blow it…
I’m up to 140 lbs
Through no fault of my own
All I am and expect to be
I owe to this bitter
Prednisone.
College Degree Time
To Trish Santoro-
fellow thespian
At last, at last, you have done it!
You’ve gotten your lovely
degree!
You deserve every one of your credits,
And who should know better than we?
We have hoped for you, prayed for you, sweat for you,
As you rode along on the bus.
And your acting for Pennhurst Players
Has been a great asset to us.
So, good luck and best wishes, Patricia
In everything more that you do.
Wherever you go, just remember
We’ll be clapping and cheering for you!
To Clarabelle Bock, a
friend
Happy Anniversary!
Since you’ve been married all these years,
There isn’t much to say.
I know you’ve shared both tears and laughter
All along the way.
There isn’t much in the way of advice-
What you should or shouldn’t do,
That I, a wrinkled old friend of yours
Can prudently offer you.
You watch your grandchildren growing up,
You see your hair turn gray.
Let’s face it, you two ‘old darlings,’
The age is here to stay!
I pray God gives you much more time
To live and love and grow together,
With a sense of humor to pep it up
And very few aches and pains to weather.
Love,
Helen