Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Our House

The like-titled 80s hit by the English band Madness has been going through my mind since receiving some disturbing news last Tuesday night. A former schoolmate visiting her parents emailed a message informing me my old childhood home was on fire! After my father and mother both died almost a year ago, the house had been unoccupied and was slated for demolition. Still, the fire department put out the flames and later determined it was caused by an arsonist.

I have many memories growing up at 722 5th Street South in Moorhead, Minnesota. Originally built in 1902, this two-story house was bought by my parents in 1970 after renting various places during the early years of their marriage. One exciting thing for me as a six-year-old was having my own room. My little sister and I no longer had to share one. My second-floor bedroom was connected to a sun porch where I often played with my toys. Sometimes I’d open up a glass door and put on puppet shows while neighborhood kids watched from the backyard. Other times I went down to the basement and listened to records, played foosball, pool or ping-pong.

Of course, a bigger house meant more chores needed to be done. Among my assigned duties were vacuuming, mowing the lawn, weeding the garden, and picking up poop in the dog pen (which I hated the most). I also made coffee for my parents but wouldn’t drink the stuff myself until years later.

Our family’s move to the corner of 5th Street and 8th Avenue initially caused a rift with the Moorhead school system. Our previous home was closer to Riverside Elementary. The new house was still close enough for me to walk to Riverside for first grade. Officials repeatedly told my parents I had to go to Park School because of a zoning ordinance. I ended up going to Park from second to fifth grade. Then I returned to Riverside for sixth grade. Declining enrollment resulted in Park closing down (though it was later resurrected as a private Christian school).

Our house was also close to Concordia College. As a boy, I often rode my bicycle around the campus. Following my high school graduation, I enrolled at Moorhead State University because their tuition was less expensive. Fortunately, that was also within walking distance.

Meanwhile, my parents decided to build a spacious addition in place of the original garage. Construction of that began in the mid-1970s but wasn’t completed until a decade later. While the addition was in a half-finished state, I made use of the vacant space by having rummage sales. Dad contributed items such as used furniture and paid me a commission. When the addition was finally done, a large family room was used for celebrations, meals, and watching TV.

In 1985, I enlisted in the Army National Guard and then moved to Minneapolis. For a while, I’d come home about four times a year. My visits became less frequent after becoming a Christian in 1991. Mom and Dad were initially uncomfortable with my newfound faith. God later provided alternative places for me to stay in the Fargo-Moorhead area. It’s just as well since I didn’t like being around my mother’s smoking.

After Mom had a stroke and moved to an assisted living facility, Dad was okay with me staying at the house again for short visits. By this time, the bedrooms upstairs were mostly used for storage. So I slept on a couch in the family room. I didn’t mind that except when the dogs woke me up with their barking.

For years, I speculated of someday inheriting the house even though I didn’t want to settle in Moorhead again. That was never an option. Due to financial issues, Dad sold the house to Concordia College but continued renting it from them. The college had already torn down neighboring houses to provide extra parking space for students. There was recurring talk of our house coming down as well but wouldn’t happen during my parents’ lifetime. 

While it would still be nice having my own house someday, I have a more glorious home waiting in heaven. Jesus promised me a mansion in John 14:2. The house fire is a reminder never to be consumed with temporal things that won’t last forever.

“But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in which the heavens will pass away with a great noise, and the elements will melt with fervent heat; both the earth and the works that are in it will be burned up.” - 2 Peter 3:10

Sunday, May 8, 2016

M. O. M. (Memories of Mother)

 Thanksgiving 2008
In these last days, Satan is trying to pervert gender distinctions. Currently the media is flooded with reports of men “identifying as women” fighting for the right to use women’s bathrooms (and vice versa). For the past ten years, Spain has issued birth certificates replacing “Father” and “Mother” with “Progenitor A” and “Progenitor B.” No matter how the world tries to redefine the family unit, children cannot be born without a mother. 

On this Mother’s Day, I want to honor the woman who brought me into this world 52 years ago in Fargo, North Dakota. Growing up in the bordering city of Moorhead, Minnesota, I wasn’t fond of the traditional church we attended as a family. Still my mother made sure my sister and I said our prayers before going to sleep. If there was a thunderstorm outside, Mom told us God’s angels were bowling (the loudest claps of thunder meant they got a strike). She happened to be an avid bowler.

Football is another sport my mother enjoys. We've spent many Sundays watching the Minnesota Vikings on TV. Mom often got more emotional about the games than I did. She would jump off the couch and yell at the players while nearly knocking me over in the process. 

Back in the day my mother was a homemaker and often cooked meals for us. As my sister and I got older, Mom worked outside the house more. One of her jobs was a sales representative for a major candy company. As a result we got to enjoy a lot of free samples.

Another thing I appreciate about my mother is her sense of humor. Whenever my sister and I did something naughty but wouldn’t fess up, Mom sarcastically declared, “Ol’ Tom is at it again!” (Tom was my imaginary twin brother.) A few years ago while finishing a phone conversation, I told Mom I would “keep her posted” on my happenings. She replied, “Don’t take our name in vain.”

Even if your mother hasn’t exactly been a Proverbs 31 woman, I exhort you to be a blessing to her. Proverbs 23:22 says, “…do not despise your mother when she is old.” If she’s still living but you cannot see her in person today, how about giving her a call to let her know how much she is loved? I’m sure she would appreciate that.

“Honor your father and mother,” which is the first commandment with promise: “that it may be well with you and you may live long on the earth.” - Ephesians 6:2-3