Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Crying isn’t Just for Babies

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crying babies

I was raised in a hard-working farm family, and no crying was allowed. We were admonished to be tough and never look like sissies. That’s such bullshit.

There’s a powerful cleansing release that comes with tears. I am not embarrassed or ashamed when I cry, and the only reason I won’t speak at my mother’s funeral next week is because I don’t want the snot running down my chin to be a distraction.

We don’t need medical science to advocate reasons for crying, but it’s good to note that experts agree that stifling tears can be harmful. Sara Courter, a certified wellness counselor, recently wrote in the MindBodyGreen Newsletter:

  • Crying is cathartic. By shedding tears we are releasing toxins, pent-up emotions, and easing stress. Crying is an authentic and mortal means of helping ourselves to simply feel better.
  • Crying is natural. Some expressions of, say, anger are not natural. Feelings of anger can be manifested as violent actions, and this is not a wholesome way to experience emotions. Crying, on the other hand, is an organic expression of a wide range of emotions. It is the human body’s clever way of seeking release and comfort, naturally, as it always has been. One does not need to identify a particular “reason” for crying. So often we are asked, “Why are you crying?” Well, why not? It’s a natural human expression. It’s not as though you’re running naked down a busy street, crying is not an absurd thing to do so let’s refrain from treating it that way, or from allowing others to make us feel as though it’s absurd.

As a caveat, I don’t endorse endless sniveling. There is a time for a good cry, then a time to blow your nose, pull up your big-girl pants, and then go tackle whatever issues are interrupting your happiness. It doesn’t hurt to find something that makes you laugh: a book, movie, or silly friend. As the old Proverb says, laughter is the best medicine. As this middle-aged writer says, take several doses daily.

As do many teens, I had a contentious relationship with my parents. My father often threatened to send me away to boarding school. I always retorted, “Give me ten minutes to pack.” Now both my parents have passed away, and I wish I had one more chance to give the perfect response: “I don’t want to leave. I’d rather stay and find a reason to laugh with you. Okay?”

 

Don’t Lose the Body: Eight Tips to Plot a Funeral

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stone angel grave

I’ve helped organize weddings, including a few of my own, but planning a funeral is a different type of hectic, emotional activity with a demanding timeline. The details could leave you breathless. Oops, wrong word.

In a wedding, you have months to prepare. With a funeral, you have days and you’ll need to interrupt your own grieving to organize the deadly details. A few generations ago, the family would clean and dress the body, prop it on the dining table next to the potato salad, throw a party, and then bury the dearly departed in the family plot on a nearby hill. Now, there is a complicated checklist that rivals the NASA instructions for a lunar landing to make sure your loved one has a proper burial.

Because everyone eventually dies, someday you may need to organize a funeral. Here are some helpful tips:

  1. Don’t lose the body. My sweet mother recently passed away. I had arranged for a local funeral home to pick up the body and transport it to another funeral home 100 miles away to her hometown. Two days later, she still hadn’t arrived. After frantically calling and trying to use my inside voice, I received an email saying that the driver was in route and my mother was near Bliss. I responded, “Of course, she is.” (Bliss is the name of a village near her intended destination.) I have no idea where she went for the weekend, but I assume she had a good time and that, somewhere, my parents were laughing.
  2. Don’t allow details to be the death of you. Notify key family members, but tell them you don’t need any help because planning through a committee could be fatal. Open a bottle of wine, sit down with a notebook or computer, and begin to make decisions: choose pall bearers, write the obituary, approve the death certificate, notarize details for the IRS, finalize the funeral place and program, chose the music and performer, arrange for food and flowers, contact the cemetery, make decisions about embalming and donations, and decide what clothes the person will wear and who should do the hair. Do you want rings removed? Do you want the casket with the pretty roses or the sunset? And, don’t forget the musical video. Do all this in a few days while keeping a stiff upper lip. Sorry, wrong word again.
  3. Don’t present a stupid program. If you think Aunt Bernice will go to the podium and wail for 20 minutes, discreetly suggest she save her remarks for the reception, preferably after the first two rounds of drinks. If you want to include some literary orations, avoid Robert Service’s famous poem, “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” And, finally, if all your music sounds like the “The Funeral March of the Marionette” followed by a requiem, a dirge, and a lone bagpiper, expect some of your guests to fall onto the ground and beg to be the next to die.
  4. Don’t overwhelm the undertaker. I’m thankful I chose a reputable Funeral Director instead of Billy Bob’s Burial and Tire Changing Service. After my mother died, I had numerous questions. The Funeral Director patiently listened when I called in alarm and asked who would dig the grave. “We’ll handle everything, Ma’am,” he said. I was so relieved that I wouldn’t need to ask my son to bring a shovel and a backhoe.
  5. Don’t turn the funeral into a bazaar. I once attended a wedding where one of the guests brought along Cutco knives to sell to the attendees. This is not appropriate for weddings or funerals. Even though I’ll have a captive, emotional audience, I don’t plan on arranging a book signing event after my mother’s service. She always bragged to her friends that I wrote books, even though she never read any of them. I told her I wrote under the pen name of JK Rowling.
  6. Don’t allow expenses to haunt you. You may need to dig deep to unearth some money because the base cost for a funeral can range from $5,000 to $10,000. The choices vary from a pine box tossed into a swamp to an elaborate $25,000 casket carried by a procession of white limousines into a private plot. If you’re hosting a boisterous reception after the funeral, save enough money to buy some quality liquor because you care enough to say goodbye with a fine Scotch instead of cheap moonshine.
  7. Don’t forget the living. After the funeral is over, use your energy and emotions to appreciate and connect with those around you. There are still a lot of people who aren’t dead yet, and some of them need a friend.
  8. Don’t stop celebrating life. If anyone cares to organize a funeral for me (after I’m dead, or course), I want a full marching band to play John Philip Sousa marches and an open bar with plenty of exquisite Cabernet. And, I’m requesting lots of pie with ice cream because finally gaining weight will no longer be an issue.

Family Matters through Life and Death

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family mom wendell

Birth is a time of celebration when family and friends gather to welcome a new life, full of opportunities and potential. Death, also, can be a time to rejoice and reflect with loved ones, especially if the deceased person exceeded her potential on earth. Such is the case with my mother Leona Ambrose.

The top picture was taken in July as her grandchildren, their spouses, and their children joined my husband and me for a visit at her assisted living facility. The second two photo was taken October 10, just three weeks before her death. Again, family members gathered around even though she could not remember names or faces. We were limited without a better camera, but the cell phone captured images of loving people. I especially treasure the shot of my mother and my sweet granddaughter. They have always shared a special connection.

mom and 9 females

mom mirabel

 

Sometimes we don’t understand what goes on within families or why some people reject taking responsibilities for others. After next week’s funeral service, we can all reflect of things we should have done, actions we could have taken to lessen the heartache of those we love. I must apologize to my mother for not trying harder to communicate with her first-born son. In her honor, I will forgive him for not visiting her for 15 years. But, I do that only for her.

Thanks, Mom, for loving your family. We will strive to continue your legacy of keeping an attitude of gratitude, even when life kicks us in the gut. Oh, and we’ll also buy a new camera to record the next fabulous generation.

four generations

 

 

 

Obituary: Leona Ambrose

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mom flowers crop          leona 1946

Leona Ambrose, age 87, died November 1, 2014. Her beautiful and resilient spirit leaped from earthly restraints to soar with a choir of joyful angels into the light and love of her Savior, Jesus Christ.

She passed away peacefully in Boise with local family members able to say farewell. Funeral services and a celebration of her life will be Tuesday, November 11 at 11:00 am at the Living Waters Presbyterian Church in Wendell, Idaho. The service will be conducted by Pastor Phil Moran of Boise. Viewing will be at the Demaray Funeral Chapel in Wendell on Monday, November 10 from 6:00 – 8:00 pm.

Olive Leona Morrison was born on May 20, 1927 in Arbela, Missouri. She was the oldest of four children born to Emmett Gale Morrison and Olive Grace Curry Morrison. During the Great Depression, her father ventured to Idaho looking for work and then saved enough money to send for his wife and two daughters. At age three, Leona traveled on a train with her mother and baby sister to southern Idaho. Another sister and brother were later born in Idaho.

Leona’s childhood focused on hard work as she hand-milked cows before and after school, hitched and drove a team of horses to work long days in the hay fields, and picked onions to supplement the family income. By age 11, her father bragged that she could outwork any male farmhand. The family moved around southern Idaho as her father worked on farms and then settled in Buhl.

Her family moved to Wendell in 1945 and she was a junior at Wendell High School. She met a handsome young man named Neal Ambrose and the timid valedictorian married the gregarious student body president in 1948. They had three children, Tommy, Elaine, and George. A daughter Carol died at birth.

Leona and Neal created several successful businesses in southern Idaho. Neal capitalized on the opportunity to haul frozen TV dinners, a popular new product in the early 1960s, so he leased an 18-wheel truck and drove throughout the Northwest. Later he owned Montana Express, an interstate trucking company with 60 trucks and refrigerated trailers. To supplement the income while Neal was gone driving trucks, Leona babysat neighbor kids during the day and typed reports for Bradshaw’s Honey Plant at night after her children were asleep. She always took time to read to her children, and saved pennies to purchase a set of Childcraft Books. Now, these same books are read to her great-grandchildren.

Neal and Leona established Ambrose Farms and introduced sprinkler pipe irrigation to Gooding County, buying barren acres of sagebrush and converting them into fertile farm land. Soon they owned more than 30,000 acres of land, 1,000 head of cattle, and employed more than 200 people. In the late 1960s, Neal learned that JR Simplot was selling his hogs – the animals that got Simplot started in business. Neal bought the hogs and then had to decide where to put them. His loyal employees constructed sheds east of Wendell to hold thousands of hogs.

Leona kept records of births and sales of every pig. She helped with all the businesses by doing the bookkeeping without a calculator, climbing onto the potato harvesters every night to record the sales and deliveries, and working in the office. She was the consummate assistant to her husband, and he couldn’t have succeeded without her support. They were loyal residents of Wendell and donated land for a city park east of town. It was named McGinnis Park after one of their favorite high school teachers. Neal passed away in 1989.

Leona was active in the community and the Chamber of Commerce named her a Distinguished Citizen. She served on the school board, helped organize the election polling places, held offices in the PTA, served as a Cub Scout Den Mother, taught Sunday School, and served several terms as president of P.E.O. Chapter AZ. In her spare time, she made elaborate hooked rugs, canned hundreds of jars of grape jelly, and volunteered at the local Presbyterian Church. She commissioned and helped design a wall of stained glass windows for Living Waters Presbyterian Church. One of the highlights of her life was traveling for 12 days across Canada on a train with her daughter and granddaughter.

Education was important to her, and though she never had the opportunity to attend college, she endowed the Ambrose Family Scholarship at the University of Idaho to assist students from the Magic Valley area. She was a member of the first Parent’s Club at the University of Idaho and received recognition from the Foundation Board.

Leona owned Farmhouse Restaurant near Wendell when it was voted in a national poll of drivers as “Best Road Food” in the United States. The restaurant was featured on national news reports and the media referred to Leona as “jolly.”

Leona is survived by her three children, Tom (Leanne), Elaine (Ken), and George (Marti), three grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren. She enjoyed a close relationship with her grandchildren Emily Nielsen (John) and Adam Nielsen (Danielle) and their children. She also is survived by her sister Margaret Hawkins (Jesse) and a brother Emmett Morrison (Yvonne). She was preceded in death by her husband, her parents, an infant daughter, and a sister, Mariana Mink. Through the years, she maintained contact with several nieces, nephews, in-laws, extended family members, and dozens of good friends.

Leona Ambrose, her infectious smile and resilient spirit, made the world a better place. Her positive attitude and unwavering faith in God sustained her, and her many Bibles were worn with dog-eared pages and underlined passages.

The family would like to thank the gentle staff of Legacy Hospice Care of Meridian and the loving people at Spring Creek Manor in Boise. They exceeded their job titles and offered genuine love and compassion in Leona’s last days.

After the celebration on November 11, Leona will be interred at Wendell Cemetery. Funeral arrangements are under the direction of Demaray Funeral Services. Flowers are welcome at the service or memorial donations can be made to the Ambrose Family Scholarship Endowment, Office of Development, University of Idaho, Moscow, ID 83843.

 

 

Lessons I Learned from my Mother

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stained glass windows wendell

Several years ago, my mother commissioned and helped design a two-story wall of stained glass windows for the new Presbyterian Church in Wendell, Idaho. A prominent member of the church objected to the design because it included a rainbow and, as everyone knows, that could endorse the gay rights agenda. My mother remarked, “The rainbow was good enough for Noah, so it’s good enough for me.”

The rainbow design was enlarged and the magnificent windows were carefully installed in the sanctuary. On certain hours of the morning, the sun shines through so brilliantly that some people in the congregation need to wear sunglasses. The person who objected to the design has moved away, but I do hope someday she can witness a spectacular rainbow and be humbled and thankful. No agenda is necessary.

Mom didn’t want or need to support or condemn the gay lifestyle or any lifestyle, for that matter. Instead, she chose to follow the teaching of Jesus and endorsed his commandment to “Love one another.” Her worn-out Bibles were covered with underlined verses, mostly about love and grace. A favorite passage came from the book of Hebrews in the Old Testament: “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters.” She followed that advice, often to her own peril as people took advantage of her generosity.

Her funeral will be next Tuesday in the church, and I hope the sun shines through the stained glass and illuminates the place of worship that will be her final stop before the graveside service. If the sun doesn’t shine, maybe it will rain and then we’ll see a rainbow. Either way, we’ll know she helped design the day because she’s in good and powerful company.

 

My Mother’s Body Got Lost

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featured on bloghercasket

I’m trying to plan my mother’s funeral, but we have a problem. We can’t find her.

My mother passed away Saturday after a long illness. I had all the funeral arrangements planned months in advance, so I was prepared when the inevitable happened. After she died, I contacted the proper authorities to transport her body 100 miles to her hometown of Wendell, Idaho for the funeral and burial. Some things don’t always go as planned. Two days later, we know that the body is gone from her assisted living facility but it’s not in Wendell. This is a cause for concern.

During the past few years, my mother has been lost in dementia. Even after moving her to a secure nursing home in Boise, there were times when I visited and couldn’t find her. The staff and I would search the facility and find her in someone else’s room and the two residents would be talking about their old times that never happened. No harm was done, and we gently, lovingly participated in their storytelling. But, I always knew she was somewhere inside the building.

Today I called the funeral home in Wendell and they hadn’t received the body. How do you lose a casket? I thought I had completed all the necessary arrangements, but I wasn’t familiar with the procedures for this dilemma. I used my inside voice and calmly requested that somebody do something. I called back an hour later and needed to employ my outside, aggressive tone. This last resort has been known to get immediate results and leave people trembling. I’m not proud of this trait, but it works.

At last, I received a call from Wendell that they had found her body still in Boise and the transportation was being arranged. A few hours later, I received a call that said she was near Bliss, a tiny village along the route.

“Of course she is,” I responded.

I hope she had a nice weekend and enjoyed having the last word. But, Mom, now it’s time to go home. Please.

Planning a funeral is similar to planning a wedding. Family and friends come together, some cry, music plays, and people wave goodbye. Except, at a funeral, the goodbye lasts a long time. This last momentary interruption is my mother’s way of telling me I’m not always in charge of everything. Somewhere, my parents are laughing.