by Shelley Bennett
Growing up in a small town means that you have many “other mothers”. The other mothers make sure that you have a ride to dance, a snack after school, and a place to sleep over on Friday nights. They make popcorn with butter for movie nights and drive you in their station wagon to the skating rink.
They don’t care if you host an impromptu 8th grade cheerleading camp in your backyard or shoot BB guns in the meadow after school.
They host birthday parties, teach crafts at Campfire Girls, and sew the elastic on your ballet shoe when it breaks at rehearsal. They welcome you into their home (and heart) like you are one of their own and continue to watch over you as you grow up.
I was fortunate to have a few other mothers who left a deep impression on me and my life. While I could write forever about Beth Bennett, Cheryl Watters, and Diane Gustafson, I feel compelled to focus on two who recently passed away: Karen Sherve and Sedelia Casillas, the women whose actions I listed above.
Karen’s daughter Kirsten and Sedelia’s daughter Andrea were two of my very best friends. We went to McKinley school, took dance, became Bluebirds, then Campfire Girls, and grew up together in our small town.
Sedelia and Karen, with help from my mom Rhonda, kept us going in all sorts of directions, each one picking up the slack when the others couldn’t be there.
When you are a close enough friend, you get to experience both sides of the other mother. The side that sighs in disappointment and shakes their head no to answer your question. And the side that smiles deeply and looks on with pride when they witness the good stuff.
I can still hear the tone of Sedelia’s voice when her daughter Andrea would request something a little outrageous. Once, when I was visiting their new home in Elk Grove, we begged and pleaded to go the mall. “It is only a few miles away…”
We were both 16, Andrea was a new driver, and “a few miles away’ included driving from the then country roads of Elk Grove to the big city of Sacramento.
Sedelia took the time to talk with Andrea about driving on the freeway, which exits to take, and how to merge on and off the ramps. It seemed an impossible ask, but it became an afternoon of shopping, Taco Bell, and ice cream.
An afternoon I never forgot because it was more than just a trip to the mall. It was an exercise in earning trust, adding responsibility, letting go, and having faith.
I grew to know Karen better as an adult. She was always the consummate teacher and had a wealth of knowledge and experience to share with me. Karen was always interested in what my students were doing, especially which books we were reading in class.
When our first born was a redhead, he immediately became an honorary member of the Sherve clan. Sometimes Karen would sub or volunteer at Meadowview or McKinley and she would keep an eye on Jacob, always reporting back to Kirsten’s twin Karl.
Over the years, to return the favor, Leo kept an eye on Mrs. Sherve. He always reported back to Karl too.
Thank you to Kirsten, Karl, Jon, and Carolyn, Andrea and Nick for sharing your beautiful and generous moms with me. I share your sadness and feel the weight of your grief, but most of all I will never forget their kindness.
Remember when news was ‘newsy’? When you read about weddings, family events and engagement announcements in the newspaper? If you have something that might be newsworthy, please submit it to [email protected] and I’ll do my best to include it here in “The Good Stuff.”
