Bernice Anderson Randa
Bernice Anderson Randa
By Elinor Wright
Bernice Anderson Randa of Max, Minnesota, is my sister. She has been part of my life all my life. At this writing she is 87 years old, has been a life-long Lutheran, a devoted wife for 28 years until her husband Charlie Randa died of a heart attack in 1969. She has one son Steven who lives in Washburn, Wisconsin, with his wife Rebecca and two daughters, Sarah, 23, and Molly, 19. Son Charles died in 1994. He was 51 years old. Another son, Hal, died at the age of 15 in 1962. A daughter, Susan died in 1953. She was 2 1/2 years old. Her losses have been overwhelming. Her spiritual life, her remaining family and her friends have sustained her. Her grandson Zack hovers and checks, a daily “Hi, Gram, how’s it going?” blessing in macho disguise.
In all those years – 81 years, I’ve reckoned with her quiet and not-so-quiet counsel. Mostly, I’ve witnessed a principled life in action. She has proved to be a fine mentor.
My sister taught me:
• That it’s important to pay your bills on time.
• That you can’t make judgments until you hear the whole story (you never know the whole story).
• That family is the most important part of living. That, and God.
• That God stays put when everyone else moves on.
• That sometimes a blessing is sinking into a deep chair.
• That medicines are not necessarily miracles.
• That pain of loss is the most painful of pains
• That TV news is not news unless it’s bad news.
• That one cannot be happy at someone else’s expense.
• That “Days of Our Lives” has nothing to do with life in Max.
• That patriotism used to mean feeling good about your country’s decisions.
• That sometimes your bed is your best friend.
• That the U.S. Forest Service was a great employer.
• That Swedish hymns sing to the soul.
• That to live in a house by the side of the road is to be connected with life even as it rushes on to another place.
• That the U.S. Forest Service attracts employees who care about nature and the nation.
• That Billy Graham speaks Christian.
• That Ladies Aid aids ------- everybody!
• That hymns hum long after church is over.
• That having been a telephone operator connects you to people ever after.
• That losing a 15 year old son leaves scars that are wedged open by his friends. They are 50. He is 15. He is always 15.
• That foods signal seasons – new potatoes and peas – corn on the cob and fried parsnips – potato sausage and lutefisk.
• That wars change us.
• That it’s getting more difficult to hear people because of modern mumbling and soft voices.
• That the best thing to do with advice is to pass it along to someone else (who really needs it).
• That a catchy sermon is one that touches your own life, is brief, and is one that you can hear.
• That waltzing in Texas to “Waltz Across Texas” is a sublime thing – especially when you win the grand prize of the ballroom competition.
• That romantic movies used to be romantic without embarrassing us.
• That backs arch, then ache, or visa-versa
• That having a car in the garage doesn’t necessarily mean you’re planning a trip.
• That all the magazines have recently changed over to fine print and fuzzy pictures.
• That reconciling a bank balance is a testament to “alive and well and living at home.”
• That saying “no” can be a positive thing.
• That to feed the hungry (birds, animals, people) is to nourish yourself.
• That “leave me alone” does not apply to family or friends or neighbors.
• That St. Urho never had a clue he would be remembered in Squaw Lake, Minnesota in 2006.
• That the reason it is difficult to accept death in this north country is that everything and everyone around here wants to live - works hard to live.
• That sometimes people, without knowing it, make you feel not there.
• That friends are God’s gift to the lonely, the sole souls.
That the Chippewa Forest is, after all, a sacred place, a legacy, pleading with us to live another way.
• That an arm is ever so much stronger than a cane.
• That singing around a piano is a way to love everybody.
• That old songs say it best :
• ”Am I Blue?”
• ”Memories”
• That ”A Mighty Fortress” is a fortress.
• That being a chaplain for the VFW for thirty-five years makes you see white crosses with red blood pulsing through the wood and the paint.
• That credit cards are sinister gangsters that deceive and captivate.
• That when you’re young, you admire people who are witty and well-to-do, but as older people you admire most - people who are kind and gentle.
• That it is civilized to write letters, to answer the telephone when it rings, to send messages of celebration, condolence, and caring to those you love.
• That there is always time for the important things.
• That a geranium in the window box announces all is well in the house.
• That the ice candles in the cemetery on Christmas Eve are our way of remembering the gifts of these people’s lives to us. They are crystals of light on the irregular snow mounds that tell us we are not alone here. Only the snow buntings know the language the dead sing when their souls are rising.
She has been part of my life...
all my life.
“SOME THINGS
MY SISTER
TAUGHT ME”
Top R-L: Sister Ethel, Elenor Wright
Bottom R-L: Bernie Troje, Wilbur Wright, Bernice Randa
Bernice Anderson Radna and Sister Ethel Radhke