Happy Mother's Day: Memories of my Mom

Me with two incredible moms – my spouse Marcella Snell and my mom, Alice Vogt

It is hard to believe we gathered seven years ago today, in this very spot to say goodbye to my dad, Paul Vogt. That day, I walked hand in hand with my mom, Alice, to our seats in that pew. Today, we gather again to say goodbye to Mom.

How do you sum up a life? I guess you start at the beginning.

Mom was born on October 28, 1933, in Kalwarika, Poland, the first daughter of my Oma and Opa, Michael and Karoline Jetz. She was born after her brother Witold, and before brother Walter and sister Johanna.

Her earliest memory was running into a grain field, being chased by Opa. She said she thought adults could not run, but soon discovered they could, when he caught her. She said she must have done something to upset him, but could not remember what, because she was always a good girl. After all, Mom always tried to play by the book.

Soon, these light-hearted times turned dark, as Poland was invaded by Germany in 1939. My five-year-old Mom watched as the soldiers entered her village. As the days wore on, my family befriended those soldiers who were just German boys themselves. Mom still remembered their names 75 years later.

Eventually the family settled in West Germany. With Opa in the army, Mom and Uncle Witold, took on a greater role in the family. Uncle Witold became the head of the family doing everything he could. Mom did what she could to help her younger brother and sister. She took Aunt Johanna hand-in-hand to school to register her. She helped Uncle Walter in a different way. He was a promising student, and got a book he really liked but knew he had to return. Before he did, Mom stayed up all night to copy out the entire book for him.

As time went on, the war ended and Mom found work at various jobs, most notably at a Siemens plant assembling parts. Maybe that’s where she found her love of gadgets.

Looking for a new life, the family came to Canada in 1953, working in the sugar beet fields by Coaldale. Mom soon found herself in Calgary, living with her best friend Irma. There she would have jobs cooking and doing laundry.

Then, one fateful night in 1956, she was at the German-Canadian Club where she met a handsome farmer named Paul Vogt. They were married three years later, then lived on Dad’s family farm by Brooks. They started their family in 1959, when George was born then Barbara, came along in 1961.

My parents decided to strike out on their own, and Mom wanted to be closer to her family in Lethbridge too. So they moved to Coaldale, soon bought a farm, and in 1970 I came along.

Mom settled into life as a farm wife, meaning she was a Jill of all trades. She would get the kids ready for school then do laundry, clean the house, feed the chickens, tend to her garden, and repeat. You know, all the things we took for granted until we had to do them ourselves.

She would also help Dad with sugar beet harvest about this time of year actually, while cooking, cleaning, feeding the chickens, and tending to the garden.

Mom always worked so hard, and she always believed you did the work first before anything else. That’s why I often remember her dragging herself to the couch at seven o’clock or later, to watch TV.

Even then, she could not sit still, and would knit, crochet, rug hook, read, or do something while watching TV. Often, she did stretch out and got into a show only to fall asleep on the couch.

We spent a lot of breakfasts where I would fill her on how Dallas or Dynasty ended the night before.

Barb reminded us recently how Saturday was always for baking. Oh, Mom could bake. Streussel, cake, cookies, PfefferKuchen, so many good things. It was all preparation for Sunday, when family would come to visit.

Mom loved family, whether it was Opa and Oma, Aunt Johanna and Uncle Ed, or Uncle Witold and Tante Lotta coming to visit. They would have these great visits in the kitchen while we watched TV in the living room. But they would get louder and louder, so we’d turn up the TV but they’d just get louder. It was so funny – looking back now. Not so much when we were trying to hear “The Six Million Dollar Man”.

Eventually, Barb and George went off to college. George married Candius, and Mom just loved her so much right to the end of her life, I remember that so well.

Soon, the grandchildren started coming, staring with Jessica then James. Mom loved being a grandmother, playing with her grandkids, and having them on the farm.

Then Mom and Dad retired from the farm in 1991, and moved to Lethbridge.

She was sad when George and Candius and the kids moved further away to Nanaimo, but that meant yearly trips to the coast soon started. Mom loved watching Jessica and James playing baseball and basketball and soccer, but more than that she just loved being around them.

It was also about that time that Barb had Chelsea then Megan, so now there were four grandchildren. Mom loved them all so much. Mom and Dad would babysit the girls, take them to school, and never missed a recital, concert, graduation or anything else the girls got involved in.

I was never as settled as my brother and sister and, being nine years younger, I was lucky to have Mom to myself a lot. We spent a lot of winter nights on the farm watching TV, playing games, and just talking.

I liked sports, so she taught herself how to throw a football for me, throw a baseball, and ride a bike. She bought me my first basketball, and set up my first hoop on the side of the house. She also yelled until she was blue in the face when I broke my first window.

As I became a rebellious teenager who knew way more than anyone, our talks often turned into debates and out and out fights. But we always made up.

Mom always wanted to live in the city, so she blossomed once they moved to Lethbridge. She grew beautiful flowers, that strangers would stop and compliment her on. She grew gorgeous vegetables too. And she loved to read, and learn new things.

Being in the city also meant having more than three channels, which was a godsend for all of us. But for Mom, it meant watching documentaries and shows like “How it’s Made”. Whenever I saw her, she would share her latest discovery.

Sadly, Dad passed away seven years ago, and Mom entered the last phase of her life.

Barb went to visit every week, and George and Candius came out every year to see her. I had met Marcella and we spent more time with her, and she came to stay with us periodically in Claresholm, where our friends fell in love with her too.

Everybody just loved how curious she was about everything, how kind, and genuine she was. Many of them are here today.

When dementia set in, and we began to lose a little bit of Mom every day, Marcella always said, “Your Mom is still in there.”

Mom began to revert to German every so often, so one day I tried to talk to her in her native language.

Then I said, “Mom, my German isn’t very good.”

She took my hand, looked deep into my eyes, and said in the sweetest voice, “No, your German isn’t very good.”

She was still in there, right to the end.

So, How do you sum up a life.

My dear friend Chris Vining called Mom, “A force of nature.”

I am sure you all have your own memories.

How do I sum up her life?

Well lived and well loved.