Thoughts About My Mother and Her Dying

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Thoughts About My Mother and Her Dying
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I didn't cry much when Dad died in October of this year (2021). I was half-mad, but I didn't cry. Half-mad, because I couldn't get him to accept the care he needed until it was too late. If I could've gotten him into Hamilton Pointe when I wanted to earlier this year, he might still be with us. So yeah, half-mad, but I didn't cry. Just a few days before his death, we were able to get an emergency admission into Newburgh Healthcare, thanks to the amazing caregivers at Heart to Heart Hospice and, of course, the staff of Newburgh Healthcare. But Dad rarely listened to me or sought my counsel.

Mom stopped eating after Dad died, but that also wasn't a surprise. My mother was the Queen of No. No to me having Power of Attorney. Thankfully, the social worker at Newburgh Healthcare talked her out of saying no to that. No to needing to eat. No to the Covid booster. No to getting her diabetes finger prick, and no to insulin. And, the last time I saw my mother lucid, it was no to the brownie that was on her plate. As my daughter, Stephanie, recalls, "She chucked that brownie across the table. It's now my favorite memory." And then, the other resident sitting at the table with us said, "I want my brownie, though. Can you push it closer to me?" Which the answer was, Absolutely!

Dad could always talk Mom out of saying "no." Always. Every time. One of the workers told me that once when Dad came in to pick up Mom for church on a Sunday morning, he was upset that Mom wasn't dressed and ready to go. The worker told him that she had refused to get up that morning. Dad went into the room, she said, and he came out a few minutes later and said, "She's ready now." Dad would've been able to talk Mom into eating, or into taking the Covid booster, or anything else she needed to be talked into. As with my Dad, I never had that power with my Mom. To be fair, I'm pretty stubborn myself.

The day before Mom died, 19 Dec 2021, hospice called to say she had gone down hill very quickly that Sunday. The next morning, while in the bath, the nurse at Newburgh Healthcare called to say that she wasn't expected to make it. Well, I've heard that one before. There were quite a few times the last 20 years when I have seen Mom so ill that I didn't expect her to make it. One of those times was when she was admitted to Newburgh Healthcare in 2014. I didn't think she'd be in there for more than a couple of days. She stayed 7 years.

So I was in the bath, and they called and wanted me to come in as quickly as I could. I kind of thought that maybe this was going to be it. But, I didn't expect it to be that very day. I got to the nursing home before the hour was up, met with the hospice nurse and the facility nurse, and then the chaplain came in. Mom was on morphine and comfortable. Remembering how I lost all my pictures because I was complacent in getting them out of my dad's house, I picked up a few things I knew I wanted from my mother. Memories. Two pieces of the last nativity set that she didn't finish. (She handmade many nativity sets in her lifetime.) Her Bible. A couple of photo albums she had that was of her McLean family. And then, I rushed out, heading to go to work, leaving her behind with the chaplain. Click on photos to enlarge

 As I was leaving, the business personnel, who were having lunch together in the break room, asked me if she had passed. I said, "no, not yet." But I had to go to work. I had piano lessons scheduled for Monday and Tuesday of that week, having then the rest of the year to myself. I would be back tomorrow, I reasoned, and this is what I told the workers. And I would be off after that to give Mom all the time in the world.

I got the call while I was teaching that afternoon, and since I didn't answer, Stephanie was the second person they called to tell her Mom had passed. I still didn't cry. Stephanie did.

I didn't cry as we were cleaning out her room at Newburgh Healthcare. I didn't cry when talking with the pastor who was to give her eulogy. I didn't cry at the visitation. I didn't cry during her eulogy. Death is so natural to me. As a pastor's daughter, I grew up with death. My first marriage, which lasted 29 years, was to a man who worked maintenance at a funeral home and whose best friends were funeral directors. We hung out a lot at the funeral home. I saw a lot of death. And, I have been a church musician practically my whole life and have played countless funerals. Death doesn't bother me.

After the funeral service, Kenny drove Stephanie and I in our Jeep Compass behind the hearse all the way from Washington Avenue in Evansville, Indiana, to Yankeetown, Indiana, if not on the grounds of Alcoa, pretty close, to Bates Hill Cemetery. We had just been there a few months ago for my father's burial, and Stephanie and I had visited later for a picture of the stone for Find-A-Grave. It was familiar.

Pastor said a few words and had a prayer. And then that was it. It was time to go. But... but... I couldn't leave her here. Everyone had started walking to their cars. I grabbed Stephanie's hand to try to stop myself from crying. We can't leave her here, I thought. Are we just going to leave her here? I decided I wouldn't leave. I'd sit there forever, fighting back tears. I didn't care how long it would take; I was just going to sit there and wait. I could see in the corner of my eye that Pastor was waiting for me to be okay enough to get up from the chair I was sitting in. Stephanie coaxed me up. I knew I had to leave. I knew I couldn't sit there, but why couldn't I? We can't just leave her here!

My mother and I. We never were close. We never really saw anything eye-to-eye. And we were never going to no matter what either one of us did. But, in that moment, I understood that this was my mom and that she was gone. She didn't visit me after her death like my father did, but this was still my mom, and she still was gone.

But she's not really gone, is she? She's in her heavenly home with her sister, her mom, and my dad. When she and her sister put their heads together, there was no one else. Betty has been gone 9 long years now. And now, they're with each other again, with their heads together, no doubt, scheming their next project.

Mom with her younger sister, Betty
They were always close
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Uncle Rufus Jr., Mom, Uncle Eddie, Aunt Betty, Uncle Owen
Only the youngest, Owen, is left
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

 

Stephanie walked with me back to the car, but I asked my husband permission - who knows why in that moment - but I asked permission to go see my Aunt Robbin one last time before they drove back to their home near Indianapolis. Everyone else were in their cars, ready to go, but no one could leave until we did, because we had them blocked in. So Stephanie walked me down the procession of cars. I didn't know what vehicle they were in, but it didn't matter. Aunt Robbin jumped out of the vehicle, and we hugged one last time. I don't think Aunt Robbin really understood how much I have always loved her until after my parents died. She asked me to come see her soon, and I said, "I want to." And I do. And hopefully that's in the cards for 2022 - which I think is going to be a great year, by the way.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Edythe Louise "Edie" Marquess Miller (1911-1988)

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Edythe Louise Marquess Miller (1911-1988)
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

Listen... I'll be honest. I didn't like Edie Miller. Maybe I should say I was jealous. I felt growing up that she and my father spent way too much time together. What were they talking about together at the church all the time? I don't know. In hindsight, I'm sorry I didn't like her. I realize now that she was a fine, fine person. Still, my dad rarely was at home, and I hold that in my heart still to this day. Click on photos to enlarge

Edie Miller's college yearbook photo
Courtesy Ancestry
Fair Use

Dad tried to establish family night at one point, but I was a teenager by that time, and it was too late. I said no, and he threw his hands up immediately and said "okay." And then he tricked me by starting a youth group instead. Joke was on me.

Our first youth group in Monticello
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

When I was just 15 years old, for whatever reason, I decided to throw my parents a surprise 25th wedding anniversary party at the church. I recruited the church's secretary to help me plan the event. I did not, however, recruit Edie Miller. But there she was with her hands in the midst of it. In retrospect, she was the best person for the job!

My parents at their 25th party
Edie Miller in the background
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Edie Miller was born Edythe Louis Marquess in Crawfordsville, Indiana, to Frank Marquess and Florence Green. She attended Butler University in Indianapolis for at least a year. She married Myron Miller in 1937 in Indianapolis, and they later moved to Monticello, Indiana.

Myron was a pharmacist, and he is the one who filled the "diet pill" prescription my mother had become addicted to. My mother was an enigma. If Mr. Miller questioned the validity of whatever these amphetamines were, this prescription was for Mrs. Howard, the wife of Rev. Howard. That meant it was perfectly fine. After we moved to Evansville, the pharmacist here said "no" when she presented her prescription to him.

I can't gain access to the Monticello, Indiana, newspapers, which would be so helpful. Mr. Miller worked at one of the pharmacies in downtown Monticello. After school, my friends and I would sometimes stop into the soda fountain at the pharmacy for a Coca-Cola. I still remember the wood floors in those old buildings, and how they creaked when someone walked on them. Mr. Miller always was cordial, not overly friendly, but nice. I also remember my friend, Kathy Olson, telling me to try a cherry coke. I was not a fan.

The reason to honor this woman, however, was that she honored me as a teenager, and I'll forever be grateful to her for this. In 1974, Monticello endured an F4 tornado that, according to Wikipedia, "produced the longest damage path recorded during the 1974 Super Outbreak." The destruction of this tornado was great. The area in which we lived including the parsonage, the church, and Loucille Cole's home, were fairly undamaged in comparison. We lived in a sort of valley with the Tippecanoe River being just a block further downhill. A ridge rose on the opposite side of the river where a "National Homes" subdivision was located. It was destroyed, and its numerous belongings were blown down into our large yard.

After the tornado, my mother was inconsolable, begging Dad to move to Newburgh, Indiana, so she could be with her family. She was yelling at my father, through her tears, to move. This was a mistake, because only a few years later, we moved to Evansville, Indiana, close to Newburgh. My mother never got over the move from Monticello.

Back to the tornado and its aftermath... My father, Rev. Howard, decided that he needed to be there for his parishioners. That's fair. And we had lost power to the house, and I believe it got pretty cold outside afterward. I don't know where my mother went, but they shipped me off to someone who worked at the church's day care. I became very sick that evening, so I caused a lot of trouble to this person. Once to this person's home, I started throwing up at one end with diarrhea on the other. She had to clean up one mess of body fluids after another. And, to top it off, I wet the bed that night. This person threw me into her car the next morning and took me back to 407 Beach Drive and washed her hands of me. I never saw her or her family again after that.

Myron and Edie Miller
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

After that, I was shipped to.... Edie Miller. I don't think Mrs. Miller knew my feelings for her. Perhaps she felt like I was struggling after seeing my hometown destroyed. She would have been right. I was devastated after the tornado. We all were. She told me I was suffering from malnutrition, and she made me dry toast and poached eggs for dinner. I ate them. She really tried to take care of me that night. She brought out board games for us to play together. I don't think I was rude, and I hope I wasn't. But she is the one who saved me. I was healthy and well when I left her care.

It was two years later that I planned that surprise 25th wedding anniversary for my parents. Thankfully, Mrs. Miller stepped in to help. I could not have pulled it off without her.

Ruth Kretchmar, Sharon Tolley, Edie Miller
1976 surprise party for my parents
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Dr. Minnie Hayden Howard (1872-1965) Frontier Doctor of the West

 Johann Gottfried Hauer (John Godfrey Howard) Family Line

Dr. Minnie Hayden Howard (1872-1965) Frontier Doctor of the West
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

Dr. Minnie Howard may not be related to me through blood, but I'm still incredibly proud to have her same last name, Howard. Dr. Minnie was the wife of my third cousin, twice removed. Click on photos to enlarge

Dr. Minnie Howard

Dr. Minnie was born Minnie Hayden in Memphis, Missouri, to a farmer and his wife, Jacob and Carina (Carrie). When she was 14, she moved with her parents and siblings to Larned, Kansas. The reason for the move may have been the call of the west, which was strong at that time. It might be that opportunities were better for their children in Larned. This would be information that perhaps an extended study would find.

Dr. Minnie attended Central Normal College in Great Bend, Kansas, before embarking on a career in teaching in rural Kansas.

Five of Dr. Minnie's letters to her then future husband, which can be found on-line through Idaho State University, show that Dr. Minnie was well-educated and highly regarded. In the letters, she called her future husband, William Forrest Howard, her "esteemed friend." She also, in these few letters, outlines her brother, Will's, carriage accident, in 1890. Will fractured his skull and almost died. He did recover from his injuries, and, in his adult life, he was a pharmacist. I'm wondering if his accident was something that caused Minnie to consider becoming a doctor. According to Idaho's Remarkable Women by Lynn Bragg, her husband talked her into getting a medical education, so that she would understand the lifestyle. Her mother, Carrie, died in 1892, another factor that may have caused Dr. Minnie to make a decision on becoming a doctor.

Minnie's brother, Will

Dr. Minnie's husband, William Forrest Howard, also graduated from Central Normal College. After their marriage on 23 Aug 1894, in Larned, Kansas, at the home of the bride, they both taught school. William and Dr. Minnie graduated from the University of Kansas Medical School, Minnie in 1899. Upon their graduation, the couple practiced for a few years in Cuba, Kansas. In 1902, however, they moved their practice to Pocatello, Idaho.

Pocatello, Idaho circa 1890
Public Domain via Wikipedia

I have no insight, again, as to why they moved to Pocatello, but, my goodness, it was so gorgeous. Situated all throughout the Pocatello, Idaho region are many summits and mountain ranges.

Mountain scape of Pocatello

The Howards did a lot of good in Pocatello, so much so that in 1983, a mountain range was named after them: Howard Mountain!

Minnie herself did much philanthropic work in Pocatello, for example, heading the committee to get a grant from Andrew Carnegie for the Carnegie Library that still serves the community to this day.

Modern day Pocatello Library
Tricia Simpson via Wikimedia Commons

Most of the biographies I have read about Dr. Minnie states she gave up her medical practice after the birth of their second or third son. depending on the source. I don't think this is true. Sure, in essence, she gave up her practice, but she continued to use her medical knowledge for the good of her family and those around her, particularly the Native Americans who lived nearby in the Fort Hall Reservation. The reservation was originally founded in 1868 and was home to the Shoshone and Bannock tribe. Indeed, Pocatello was named for Chief Pocatello (1815-1884).

Tribute to Chief Pocatello
Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

The consumption of alcohol at this time in United States history was a serious problem. Although we know now that temperance was a terrible idea, many people then saw no other way to reign in America's drinking problem. Dr. Minnie was no exception. She held offices with the Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) and affiliated herself with the Prohibition National Party. 

It is a myth that Native Americans have a predisposition to alcoholism, but during Dr. Minnie's lifetime, it was widely accepted as the truth, unfortunately. Because of this, Dr. Minnie worked tirelessly to keep alcohol out of the hands of the Shoshoni and Bannock tribes. She is said to have been a friend of Chief Pocatello's daughter, though, so her work with the tribes would have been sincere. She offered them medical care as well as food.

Another reason to believe in Dr. Minnie's sincerity is her interest in, not only local history, but her attempts to locate the original Old Fort Hall, considered by some to be the most important location on the Oregon Trail. Along with a few others and her husband, the location was discovered, although "experts" disputed it. An archaeological excavation in 1993 proved Dr. Minnie and her crew's findings correct. The site is now the home of The Fort Hall Replica and Museum, 3000 Avenue of the Chiefs in Pocatello.

3000 Avenue of the Chiefs
Google Maps
Proper Attribution Given

Courtyard of the Replica of Fort Hall
Jeffrey G. Backes via Wikimedia Commons

The first marker at Fort Hall in 1916
Public Domain via Wikipedia

The Discovery of Old Fort Hall
Public Domain via Ancestry

Dr. Minnie was an avid history buff, particularly of Old Fort Hall. She wrote several articles for the newspaper concerning Fort Hall as well as the history of Pocatello. According to Idaho State University's web site, she was a member of the Library Committee, Art & Travel Club, Music Club, and Southern Idaho Historical Society. She was also on the City and County Welfare Board and was Bannock County Historian from 1931 to about 1956.

For his part, Dr. William Forrest Howard, who also was with the group to place the first marker at Fort Hall, was active in the community. According to the Idaho State University web site, he served as coroner and city physician. He was active with the Masons, Shriners, and the Kiwanis Club. According to Idaho's Remarkable Women by Lynn Bragg, Dr. Howard and his wife helped to found Pocatello General Hospital in 1905.

This blog posting merely scratches the surface on the life of Dr. Minnie Howard. It would be an amazing feat to write an entire book about her. Unfortunately, that would include an extended stay in Idaho for study. While that would be a great time, and I would love it, it's just not feasible. It is my hope that this blog posting will honor her memory.

Dr. Minnie and her husband had four sons. They all grew up to be physicians.

The Howard Sons
Public Domain via Ancestry

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I'm not sure how my mother decided which myriad of older church members I was going to stay with on their date nights, but fortunately, Mary Dean was one of those church members. She lived very close to our house on Beach Drive on Pine Lane in Monticello, Indiana. Her house was newer than ours, ranch style. And I loved her bathroom! She had a shower in tub with glass shower doors that I thought were beautiful. This is probably why when I moved into my first home, I had my first husband install them. MISTAKE! Do not put glass shower doors on your tub! They are so difficult to clean. Also in her bathroom was a vanity chair. It was all so fancy.

I'm not sure how much I stayed with her, but I remember sitting on her living room floor, playing pick-up sticks with her or typing on her typewriter. I've always loved typing. We didn't watch TV. In hindsight, she may have sat at her kitchen table grading papers. I didn't realize she was a schoolteacher at the elementary school where I attended. She retired in 1968 after the death of her husband, Glen, who was also a schoolteacher. I was 7. Apparently, according to my childhood friend, Linda, Mary continued to substitute teach in the same school system.

She was always kind to me, and she was always gracious when I stayed with her. She had a guest bedroom that was reserved just for me. Outside of the bedroom window, I could see the Burger King lighted sign. I would watch out that window, waiting for the light to switch off. That's how I knew it was 10 pm, which meant it was time to go to sleep. I never had trouble sleeping at her house. I don't remember what it was like to wake up at her house, though. I can imagine that she welcomed the new day and me, perhaps having breakfast ready? I just can't remember.

Once when we were together on a Friday night, we went to a restaurant that had all you can eat fried chicken. I ate all that I could eat and then some. She never shamed me for being too heavy or for eating too much. When we got into her car, I told her I could go back in now and eat some more. She told me that she could, too! I also remember eating with her at a nice restaurant with tables and tablecloths. It may have been Angler's Restaurant.

Mary Dean was born Mary Ann Poore in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were Frank and Anna Poore, and she was born in 1902! When I think of the people in my young life being born over 100 years ago is a bit lifechanging! Also thinking of all those wonderful people in my young life, I am finding a gratitude for those women that I've never felt before. When you're young, that's just your normal, right? How I wish I could go back and hug all those wonderful women! I will hug them for sure when we all get to heaven.

Reaching out on Facebook, hoping to find a few pictures since my father threw all my Monticello pictures away, in his dementia. God bless him. I didn't find any pictures, but I did find some comments. She apparently was a stern schoolteacher. She also - I had forgotten - had a birthmark that covered half of face. This was off-putting to some, unfortunately. How brave she must have been.

After remembering the birthmark, I wondered how much it affected her life. I did find at least one picture. Her senior picture. It is heartbreaking. The name of "Poore" at the bottom of her picture indicates her maiden name. Click on photos to enlarge

Mary Ann Dean nee Poore attended Ball State Teachers College and graduated from there with a master's degree in elementary education. Her husband, Glen, also graduated from there. I imagine this is where they met. They settled in Kokomo, Indiana, where they both taught public school. I don't know why they moved to Monticello, but I would think it was because they were offered good jobs there. They lived a modest life, to be sure, but it doesn't seem they wanted for anything. They attended church faithfully.

Death doesn't bother me. It never has. And I wonder if it's because I grew up with it. We had many funerals at the church growing up, and the bodies would be delivered sometimes the day before. And I was there with the bodies, and it was the normal. To that end, when Mrs. Dean's husband, Glen, died in 1968, his embalmed body was delivered to the church. The next day, at the funeral, the only thing I remember was watching Mrs. Dean walk up the church sidewalk to the doors. She was stoic. And it left me wandering, how was she feeling right then?

After Mr. Dean died, Mrs. Dean and my father put their heads together, brainstorming of what to do with the church building during the week. Dad didn't think the church building should ever be empty, except maybe at night - maybe. They settled on starting a day care center. Mrs. Dean volunteered her time every day, every week, and worked to build the day care center. The endeavor was successful, and the day care center served many children over the years. 

You know what makes me so angry at myself is not keeping in touch with these wonderful people. And I'm angry that I didn't rescue my pictures. I thought they were safe in my father's care. When I realized he had thrown the pictures of the day care center away, I became a little more intentional on getting whatever pictures he had left into my possession. I didn't want to upset him by taking what he perceived to be his things.

I did also find a small box of slides that I was able to make into jpegs. In this picture, Mary Dean may be the woman on the right, but I can't blow the photo up close enough to see if that's her birthmark or a blemish in the picture. Many of the slides were in such bad shape with many blemishes.

After the day care was up and running successfully by itself, Mrs. Dean retired and moved back to Kokomo. At the end, she was with her son, David, in Brazos County, Texas.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC