It was April 1987. I had just turned 17. My parents were moving very far. I chose to stay behind. I was offered a home with Mike's Mom....Doni. I moved into a house, rather shuffled house. I cleaned, I decorated, I "tried" to cook. I did everything I could to make this house a home. For everyone. I was 17. I remember watering the dirt front yard, soon turning into grass, planting flowers in the beds...scrubbing the kitchen like no other....Making my presence appreciated. Mike's mom took me under her wing. She had always battled the demon of Alcohol. Each night was a different night. Each morning, of course was different too. She loved deeply. She loved her kids. She loved her dogs. She loved her cats. She loved me. She stepped up for me, the more she appreciated me, the more she fell in love with me. She was a second mom. A couple of years later, we welcomed her first "Grandson". Looking back, what was once frustrating, when she'd show up at the house, or early visit to the hospital hoping that day was her day to meet him. She was the only one that came to my rescue at 19, with a brand new baby....scared..ohhh so scared. She was there. She'd wrap him up, rock him for hours. She set up a crib in her room. She filled her house with all things "baby". She was stoked. Anytime I'd call for a sitter, she'd pace by the door until I pulled up. She called him her "Lamb Chop". He referred to her as "Bom"..I think because he heard us call her Mom....She soon moved to Arizona when he was 5. We missed her. We talked and shared stories about her often. She then moved up to the Visalia area a few years ago. Continuing her sad lonely issue with alcohol. Surrounded by sisters that loved her dearly. She fought it. She had her little place. Her cats. The horses she'd visit and find peace in. She had more life to give. But she just didn't want to go on. We found out yesterday afternoon, while Kris was in school, he got a call from his uncle Gregory, that "Bom" was found in her apartment. The part that breaks our hearts, she was in there since Monday. Apparently had fallen and hit her head right out of bed. She loved her time alone. She loved her cats. She loved her family. She's gone. But to leave that way......makes me weep inside. Trying to answer questions to the kids.....looking at my favorite pictures of her this morning. Wondering why. She knows.
She loved the wide open country. She loved country music. She loved many things....
Her cats became her solace. Rest in peace "Bom". Thank you for all you gave me, Mike and Kris. You will be missed. You definitely left your imprint on many. Some wild, some funny, some crazy. You gave your Grandkids....the loves of your life, patience, hugs, yummy lunches...and many giggles......Until we meet again....Love you Bom. Dona Ruth Powell....one crazy girl.
It was April 1987. I had just turned 17. My parents were moving very far. I chose to stay behind. I was offered a home with Mike's Mom....Doni. I moved into a house, rather shuffled house. I cleaned, I decorated, I "tried" to cook. I did everything I could to make this house a home. For everyone. I was 17. I remember watering the dirt front yard, soon turning into grass, planting flowers in the beds...scrubbing the kitchen like no other....Making my presence appreciated. Mike's mom took me under her wing. She had always battled the demon of Alcohol. Each night was a different night. Each morning, of course was different too. She loved deeply. She loved her kids. She loved her dogs. She loved her cats. She loved me. She stepped up for me, the more she appreciated me, the more she fell in love with me. She was a second mom. A couple of years later, we welcomed her first "Grandson". Looking back, what was once frustrating, when she'd show up at the house, or early visit to the hospital hoping that day was her day to meet him. She was the only one that came to my rescue at 19, with a brand new baby....scared..ohhh so scared. She was there. She'd wrap him up, rock him for hours. She set up a crib in her room. She filled her house with all things "baby". She was stoked. Anytime I'd call for a sitter, she'd pace by the door until I pulled up. She called him her "Lamb Chop". He referred to her as "Bom"..I think because he heard us call her Mom....She soon moved to Arizona when he was 5. We missed her. We talked and shared stories about her often. She then moved up to the Visalia area a few years ago. Continuing her sad lonely issue with alcohol. Surrounded by sisters that loved her dearly. She fought it. She had her little place. Her cats. The horses she'd visit and find peace in. She had more life to give. But she just didn't want to go on. We found out yesterday afternoon, while Kris was in school, he got a call from his uncle Gregory, that "Bom" was found in her apartment. The part that breaks our hearts, she was in there since Monday. Apparently had fallen and hit her head right out of bed. She loved her time alone. She loved her cats. She loved her family. She's gone. But to leave that way......makes me weep inside. Trying to answer questions to the kids.....looking at my favorite pictures of her this morning. Wondering why. She knows.
She loved the wide open country. She loved country music. She loved many things....
Her cats became her solace. Rest in peace "Bom". Thank you for all you gave me, Mike and Kris. You will be missed. You definitely left your imprint on many. Some wild, some funny, some crazy. You gave your Grandkids....the loves of your life, patience, hugs, yummy lunches...and many giggles......Until we meet again....Love you Bom. Dona Ruth Powell....one crazy girl.
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