Elizabeth – I’m not sure where to start. As my older sister, there were many things I idolized about her. She was  smart, talented and often seemed fearless.

From Penrose. She was assigned to clean my little bedroom as part of her Saturday chores. She thought I was kind of messy and wasn’t real happy at the prospect. However, she seemed to find a way to make it work by hiding the book she was currently reading in one of the shelves, and when she thought she wouldn’t get caught, she would read a page or two, all the while claiming that my room was such a mess.

She could play the piano – really play the piano. However, Mother was always encouraging her to sit up straight. I then took on the role of enforcer, although not by assignment. I loved to walk up behind her and poke her in the middle of her back and tell her to sit up straight. So annoying.

When I was in the first grade, riding the school bus was scary so Elizabeth would let me sit with her. She was my protector.

Elizabeth’s art work was beautiful. She took a high school art class from Mr. Baron and her assignment was to paint a picture of the mountains. Her mountains had a purple/blueish tint to them and he informed her that mountains never looked like that. In the kitchen that night there was quite a discussion about the color of mountains. Even today, when I see the mountains with a purple/blueish tint to them I think of Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth came home from her first year of college she brought a turquoise colored stuffed poodle to sit on the bed, and a few things she had learned outside the classroom, to share. One was the story of Miz Melda, that she told with her top lip folded in over her top teeth that drove Dad absolutely crazy, and another was a song that she taught us as we worked in the strawberry patch. That one drove Mother crazy. And how we laughed about it all.

When she was living in Riverton, I went to stay and take care of Brig when Pat was born. The things I remember most are first, we drank Kool Aid every night with dinner. When I asked her why, she said that growing up we could each only have one glass of Kool Aid (because that was all there was) and we only had it on really hot days after working outside. She decided then and there that when she grew up she was going to have Kool Aid whenever she wanted it. Next was instant chocolate pudding with Dream Whip on it. At the time, that was one of the best things I had ever tasted.

There were times when she came to Utah and stayed in our home. We would talk and laugh in an effort to catch up on our latest sewing projects, or just life in general. One time, the movie “Jaws” had just come out and Paul couldn’t talk me into going with him. However, he found a willing partner in Elizabeth. I couldn’t believe that she would go.

After she came home from Germany, she was living in the Sorensen home in Lovell until she found something in Powell. Paul and I decided we were going to go visit Mother and Dad in Tumwater. At the last minute I got the “bright” idea that we needed to go to Tumwater by way of Lovell and pick up Elizabeth and family. She was excited to see Mother and Dad, Judy and Bob, so she was a willing participant. We didn’t give any thought as to what Mother and Dad would do with all of us at the same time. We had a van that seated 14 people, and so off we went. We laughed about having the van full of 10 kids, 2 women and 1 man in a van with a Utah license plate. Hmmm. That was a fun adventure.

I don’t remember her complaining about life when things were hard. I do remember her always looking for a new project, something to make, something to grow.

There are several projects that I have sitting on a shelf waiting to be made. Elizabeth’s influence was definitely behind the purchase of some of them.

A few years ago I had the “bright” idea about how to collect wool fabric for some of the applique projects I wanted to do. So, one day when we were talking on the phone, which we did quite frequently, I told her about my trips to D.I. to buy clothes made of 100% wool. Then I was deconstructing them, washing the wool in hot water and creating a nice supply of felted wool fabrics. She immediately caught the vision and joined in the project. On one of her trips to Orem, when Ron came with her so he could attend the Wood Turners’ Conference, we went to DI. Then we sat and with our trusty seam rippers, took apart items of wool clothing so we could share. Her collection far outweighed mine.

She loved fabric with strawberries or flowers like violets on them and every now and again she would tuck a little piece in an envelope and send it to me. Such a treat!

Elizabeth was the family genealogy memory bank. When I would run across the name of someone I didn’t recognize, I would call her and she could trace the family line to where that person fit in. After a while I would just say something like “really” or “ok” because she would have lost me about four generations ago. Wish I had her memory.

When I would call she would say “Hello Sunshine”. It always made me smile.

My last visit to Preston was very sweet. She talked about how her life was changing and how she didn’t really have the passion for so many of the things she had loved to do. She was missing Ron terribly and wished her family lived closer. We went through her books and found books that I already owned. Her frustration with trying to learn how to use her new sewing machine had taken the fun out of sewing, and she didn’t have any interest in finishing her projects. We laughed about the different block of the month projects she had signed up for and then forgotten about until little packages began coming in the mail.

What I will always remember about Elizabeth is she was an amazing friend. We didn’t always agree on things, but that didn’t matter. She overlooked my faults and loved me and I loved her, no matter what.