Gratitude #3

Last updated on: November 4, 2015 at 9:40 am by Margaret Blair Young

Gratitude #3 2015-11-04T09:40:50-07:00 Margaret Blair Young

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The young Blair family

In this third gratitude essay, I focus on my dad. I have written many essays about him and his influence in my life, which you can find by simply googling his name—Robert Wallace Blair. Or look here.

I am grateful that Dad’s heart was always good, that his fidelity was constant. He has expressed regret that he wasn’t fully present for us kids as we were growing up, though I remember him as very much a presence. Perhaps as he settled into his professorship, he spent too many hours away. I grew up while he was still finishing his education and have sweet memories of playing checkers and watching Ed Sullivan with him.

He has told us that he never got the balance right between work and family. That may be, but in these dialysis years, he has been given a second chance to fully connect with his children, and we have all been privileged to be with him and hear stories about his growing up which we had never heard.

When Mom got ill three weeks ago, Dad said, “Maybe my life has been preserved so that I can care for Mom.” That is indeed a blessing and a privilege which all of us are enjoying. We have had those last talks—the “I love you” and the “forgive me” ones, and now simply celebrate every moment we are given to honor our family theme of service.

I am grateful to be the daughter of Robert Wallace Blair, who wrote this letter in 1995:

To my dear mother, Gladys Marguerite Green Blair:

It was twenty-one years ago that your mortal life ended in Utah Valley Hospital, solving for you the mystery of death and what follows. There you are now in that post-mortal life that we all wonder about and before liong shall ourselves experience. You spent a good part of your life—about twenty years—as a widow. Dad’s hundredth birthday will be this December. Carolyn’s 66th this October. And your 98th this November. I’ll turn 65 this September. What a blessing life on earth has been for us all. Thanks to you and Dad for giving me and Carolyn life and education.

As the saying goes, “a lot of water has gone under the bridge.” In these past years, I’ve often thought of you and felt that you are cognizant of my doings. To the extent that you have looked in on us, I suppose you have at times wept and at times rejoiced. No doubt you know that Julia and I have eight wonderful children—all grown up now, of course. I wish you could know them and they you. I know you’re proud to see we are serving a mission in the Baltics. Our lives have been incredibly blessed. We keep learning lessons about life and about ourselves and our relationships. It’s not always easy, but we welcome the chance to learn.

Mom, it seems natural to tell you that I have some regrets. One is that I failed to care for you as I should have through the years, particularly in your final illness. I don’t know how to make up for that neglect and the many other times I neglected to fill a good son’s role now that the opportunity is past. There are other things I deeply regret and feel I failed you and Dad. I think God for the principle of repentance.

Let me reminisce on your life for a moment. You were born on November 8, 1897 in Hyrum, Utah, the eldest child of Charles Sergeant Green and Caroline Matilda Larsen. Your sister Genevieve and your brother Charles complemented your life there, along with loving parents, grandparents, and relatives—three aunts in particular that I know of: Doris, Annie and Vida. I remember the special love you had for your kinfolk there and for the treasure of sweet memories of your growing up. You went to high school in Pocatello, living at 815 North Garfield, where Grandpa had something to do with music. I’m not sure what. And Grandma kept the house spic and span.

Wallace and Marguerite Green Blair

I guess around 1920 you went off to UC-Berkeley where you took your B.A. in Spanish, and then moved to Santa Barbara to take a job at SB Junior High teaching Spanish. I suppose that was around 1924. Before then you had take na memorable summer trip to Mexico. Dad came along about then, working for Standard Oil of California, and you were married August 18, 1926 in the Salt Lake Temple. I remember how diligent you were in your profession, grading papers, preparing for a new school year, guiding the Spanish Club, etc. But you were always first a mom to Carolyn and me. You were a wonderful mother.

I remember family friends and music in our Mission Canyon home, popcorn roasted in the fireplace, Christmas Eves together, parties on the veranda, barbeques church activities, missionaries over for dinner.

You also had quite an impact on civic activities in SB: Old Spanish Days, Youtheater and the opera company (“Janie” and “The Chocolate Soldier” at the Lobero theater. I could go on and on with the precious memories I have of growing up. I couldn’t have picked a better family, Mom. Thanks for inviting me and giving me a good start on life and support in so many ways. Thanks for all the lessons taught, and apologies for things I learned poorly or not at all.

I love you, Mother. I understand much better now some things that I failed to learn or appreciate earlier. I yearn to see you again, and Dad and Carolyn. Thanks for watching over me.

Your son

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Gratitude

Marguerite Green Blair

Robert W. Blair

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