Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Focus on mental health: A Minnesotan writes about her depression May 20, 2021

ARE YOU STRUGGLING with everyday tasks? Unable to get out of bed? Feeling hopeless? Overwhelmed?

You are not alone. I think all of us have struggled during this past pandemic year. Maybe not to the extent of the challenges listed, but in other ways. It’s been a lot. I’m thankful that, if anything good comes from this pandemic, it’s an increased awareness of mental health issues.

I am grateful for writers like K.J. (Kristine) Joseph for opening up about her clinical depression in her powerful memoir, Simply Because We Are Human. The Minnesota author reveals her life-long struggles with an incurable disease caused by a chemical imbalance in her brain. And that’s important to note—that depression like hers has a physical cause that can be treated, not cured. Clinical depression is much deeper than the typical I’m-feeling-kind-of-down today.

“If only my pain and illness were visible to the world…then people would understand,” Joseph writes. She’s right. Mental illness needs to be viewed through the same lens as any other illness. Except we know it all too often isn’t. The stigma remains. The lack of understanding remains. The misinformation remains. Too many still think you can will yourself, or snap yourself, out of depression or other mental illness. That doesn’t work.

That’s why books like this are so important in changing perceptions, in educating, and in building empathy and understanding.

For Joseph, her first memory of the darkness which would enter her life occurred at age eight. At age 13, feelings of emptiness, non-stop crying, sadness and, for the first time, suicidal thoughts developed. In her 20s, she would once again contemplate suicide as she stood in her kitchen, knife in hand.

It was the death of a 17-year-old friend in high school that propelled Joseph to open up about her depression. I especially appreciate Joseph’s assessment of Matt’s depression-caused suicide: “Matt took his own life because he was sick, and that was how I saw it.” By writing that, she helps ease blame and guilt which often follow a suicide.

In telling her story, Joseph also writes about ways in which she manages her clinical depression. And that is via medication, hard work and taking care of herself. She is a runner, a life-long interest/activity tracing back to childhood. In high school, she ran on the track team, even competed in the state meet. Running helps manage her depression, putting her in a calm, meditative state.

Therein lie the additional strengths of Joseph’s memoir. She offers hope. She reveals how she navigates her depression, what works for her, including taking medication. She acknowledges the reality of her mental illness. And she is open about her struggles. I applaud Joseph for writing about her clinical depression, for her raw honesty, for sharing her stories. For it is through personal stories that we most connect. And begin to understand.

TO PURCHASE Simply Because We Are Human, click here.

FYI: If you or someone you care about is struggling with mental health, please seek help. You are not alone. Here are some resources:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 800-273-8255 (free, confidential and available 24/7).

National Alliance on Mental Illness

May marks Mental Health Awareness Month. I pledge to continue my efforts to raise awareness and to reduce the stigma of mental illness. Please read previous reviews I’ve written on books about mental illnesses by clicking here, then here, next, here, and, finally, here.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating treasures, farm-sourced & local May 19, 2021

Shopping at the flea market by the Rice County Historical Society’s historic church and school. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

YOU DON’T NEED THAT, I remind myself as I covet the vintage mixing bowls, the floral apron, the whatever. I’m at that point in life when I feel the need to declutter, to downsize, to let go. Not acquire more stuff.

So many treasures… Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

But that doesn’t stop me from looking. And look I did on Saturday at the Rice County Historical Society’s Spring Flea Market. For anyone who loves antiques, collectibles and waiting-to-be-discovered treasures, this proved the place to shop. An estimated 75 vendors peddled their goods to a large crowd gathered at the fairgrounds for the flea market and also the Cannon Valley Farmers’ Market and Fair Food Truck Days.

Loved the vintage City of Faribault signage on this vendor’s vintage truck. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
These flea market vintage lawn chairs almost called for sitting down to visit, except for the rust. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
The Rice County Steam & Gas Engine folks were selling raffle tickets for this tractor. The organization hosts its annual swap meet/flea market on Saturday, May 29, and Sunday, May 30, just south of Northfield, in rural Dundas. Click here for details. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

While I wandered among tables, pausing to chat with friends I haven’t seen in more than a year, I delighted in the beautiful spring day and the opportunity to be out and about among others.

Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

With camera in hand, I documented some of the merchandise. I recognize that memories and personal interest draw me to certain items. Like the bag of Red Owl charcoal, a reminder of my brief cashier’s job at that grocery chain. Red Owl was also the “go to” grocery store when I was growing up.

Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

An autograph book from the 1890s also drew me to flip through the pages, to read the messages written to Mary. I have an autograph book stashed in a closet somewhere. I ought to find it.

I especially like the art in this “Reddy, the Proud Rooster” story. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
This reminds me of my grandma’s garden. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
Some people find clowns to be creepy. I don’t. Found at the flea market. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Print items and art and oddities focused my interest, too.

Hanging baskets, tomatoes and other plants were available for purchase at the Cannon Valley Farmers’ Market. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

There was so much to take in at the flea market, before I moved on to the farmers’ market.

On display (and for sale), farm fresh eggs from Graise Farm. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Given my farming roots, I admire and appreciate those who gather eggs, spin yarn, grow plants, harvest honey, cook jams and jellies, bake sweet treats and more for sale at farmers’ markets. Theirs is a labor of love. To share the bounty, the works of their hands, truly is a gift.

Blackberry jam. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
Offerings from Medford Creek Natural Apiaries. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

When I peruse market offerings, I also view products from a photographic, artistic and poetic perspective. The dark jewel tone of blackberry jam. The golden hue of honey. Both are beautiful to behold.

The Local Plate serves up meals created from local food sources. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

My final stop took me to the food vendors and the decision to purchase The Buffaloed Turkey Plate to share with Randy. Other food offerings were standard fair food. I appreciated the opportunity to order more creative, locally-sourced food from The Local Plate.

Saturday’s event drew a large crowd. Here is a small portion of the flea market in the RCHS museum parking lot. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

I love local events like this. They build community. And this year, more than ever, I appreciate local. And I appreciate community.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reconnecting at the flea market, farmers’ market & food fair May 18, 2021

The scene in the Rice County Historical Society parking lot Saturday morning as vendors sold wares at the spring flea market. The market extended behind the building and onto the fairgrounds with an estimated 75 sellers. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

MORE THAN A YEAR into the pandemic and we all needed this—an outdoor event to bring us together, to reclaim our collective sense of community, to reconnect with friends we haven’t seen in way too long.

One of my favorite discoveries at the flea market was the chicken art created by J & M Crafted Creations of Prior Lake. That would be wood artist Jim and painter Mary Jo. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
At the market, cheese from Shepherd’s Way Farms, rural Nerstrand. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
The Local Plate proved a popular dining option. The truck sources locally to create its menu offerings. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

The combo Rice County Historical Society’s Spring Flea Market, Cannon Valley Farmers’ Market and Fair Food Truck Days accomplished all of those objectives in one place, the Rice County Fairgrounds, on one day, Saturday.

Vendors spread across the museum grounds/fairgrounds, including outside the historic school and church. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
This dad’s smile says it all. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
The event drew a diverse crowd. People seemed happy just to be out. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

This event marked our re-entry into community life, now that Randy and I are fully vaccine-protected. It felt good, oh, so good, to experience a sense of normalcy again. And even though crowds were large and most attendees were unmasked, we felt comfortable given our vaccination status and the outdoor setting.

Among the flea market treasures, Pyrex. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
After photographing this yarn, I asked for a business card. Noting the name, Dresow Family Farm, I inquired. Turns out the husband half of this farm team hails from my home area and graduated from Wabasso High School, my alma mater. Even though I’ve never met Kevin “Silo” Dresow, we reminisced and even broke into the school song, “On Wabasso…” To meet a fellow Rabbit (our school mascot) made my day. I graduated with Silo’s brother Keith. Small world. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
Fair food aplenty… Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

For a May day in Minnesota, the weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Sunshine. Blue skies. Warmth. Absolutely ideal for outdoor vending of treasures, selling of locally-grown/raised/made goods and indulging in fair food.

Even this vendor’s dog looks happy. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
A pick-up bed of treasures. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
From First Draft Farms, what happy hues. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

What made this gathering unique, though, was the overwhelming feeling of optimism. I sensed it. Felt it. Experienced it. An undercurrent of joyfulness.

Parking was at a premium. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

I know events like this don’t happen without a lot of behind-the-scenes effort and hard work. So to all the volunteers, vendors, farmers and others who planned, showed up, set up, sold, engaged in conversation, welcomed us back to experience community, thank you. I needed this day. We needed this day. Saturday’s event reaffirmed for me just how much I value interacting with others. And just how much I’ve missed those connections.

Please check back for more photos from this event.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating Faribault’s riverside beauty May 17, 2021

A view of the still Cannon River, looking toward North Alexander Park, and near the dam. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

THE RIVER RUNS through, spilling over duo dams by the historic Faribault Woolen Mill and also by North Alexander Park and the Rice County Fairgrounds.

A section of the Northern Link Trail. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

I love walking here in the evening, when the sun begins its golden descent. A paved path curves along the bank of the Cannon River.

A lopped evergreen along the trail. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

I appreciate the gracefulness of the Northern Link Trail, how it winds around trees rather than tracing a straight line.

The Cannon River roars over the dam. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

And I appreciate the power of the river roaring over the dam, over rocks. There’s something about churning water that mesmerizes me. The sound. The sight. The reminder that water, harnessed or unharnessed, is a powerful thing. It’s a bit terrifying.

A section of the dam walls the river. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Standing on the narrow dam walkway widens my perspective to include fishermen/women/children angling from the shoreline. This is a popular fishing spot, any time of year.

On the other side of the bridge and about a block away, the Cannon and Straight Rivers merge. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

And then, if I look directly before me, I see the river flowing under the Second Avenue bridge. A short distance later the Cannon joins the Straight River at Twin Rivers Park.

I never tire of watching, and listening to, the river churn. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

I feel grateful to live in Faribault, a community with incredible, easily accessible natural beauty. Two rivers. Woods. A beautiful nature center (River Bend). Parks galore. Trails aplenty.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Wedding memories after 39 years May 14, 2021

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Wedding guests toss rice at Randy and me as we exit St. John’s Lutheran Church following our May 15, 1982, wedding. Photo by Williams Studio, Redwood Falls, Minnesota.

THIRTY-NINE YEARS AGO on May 15, Randy and I were married at St. John’s Lutheran Church in my hometown of Vesta. The church sits about a half-mile north of the crop and dairy farm where I grew up. Since few people have a clue as to my hometown’s location, here are general directions: Go west of Mankato, west of New Ulm, west of Redwood Falls and follow Minnesota State Highway 19 half-way to Marshall. Vesta is a short distance from the first curve curving south.

When I reflect on that Saturday in 1982, I remember how the morning began with light rain, how I worried about my $82 wedding dress from Maurice’s getting dirty on the gravel farm driveway. Photos from that day show the sidewalk to the church dampened by rain before the 2 pm ceremony and after, when guests lined the walkway to toss rice.

That exit photo is perhaps my favorite from our wedding day. The joy on our faces and that of our guests is in-the-moment natural. Journalistic style. Slice-of-life. While I value the posed professional portraits, I especially value this celebratory image. When I study it, I see loved ones who are no longer living. My Grandma Kletscher back in the corner, daisy corsage pinned to her dress, snow white hair spilling from her red scarf. My bachelor uncle, Mike, dressed to the nines in a suit and tie and smiling broadly. And then my Aunt Sue, the beautiful and classy aunt of Italian descent, fashionably dressed, clutching rice, smiling. I miss all of them.

The Vesta Hall, a community gathering place in my hometown. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo.

Detailed memories fade after nearly 40 years. But the highlights of that day remain. The joy in marrying the man I loved, and still love. The congregation singing my favorite hymn, “Beautiful Savior,” during the ceremony. The joy of celebrating with all those friends and family, including two of Randy’s soon-to-give-birth sisters. The joy of dancing across the old wooden floor inside the Vesta Community Hall. And, if Randy, could insert his memory here, he would remind me of the awful green hue of the punch my mom made. It was tasty; but he’s right about the color.

Our colors were green and yellow. Not John Deere green and yellow. Just green and yellow, my favorite colors. Randy didn’t care much about color choices, as I recall. I even stitched aprons for our waitresses from green and yellow gingham. Oh, how I’d love to have one of those ruffled aprons my younger cousins wore as they waited on tables.

The Vesta Municipal Liquor Store (no longer a municipal liquor store). Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2011.

I appreciate that we were married during a time when weddings were simple. Simple as in twisted crepe paper streamers running the length of bare wooden banquet tables. Tables where locals piled corn kernels to mark BINGO cards once a year during BINGO Night. Tables that were pushed aside to open dance floor space for the Bunny Hop and the Chicken Dance and modern dancing. Dances, too, with the bride and with the groom. Randy would insert his memory here of dancing with a cousin who asked if he was sure he really wanted to get married. We still laugh about that question. But then the liquor store was just a half-block away.

Audrey and Randy, May 15, 1982. Photo by Williams Studio.

May 15 is certainly a day of reflection. But more important, it is a day of honoring our vows to one another. Of pledging to be there for one another. Always. Through the good times and the challenging times. And we’ve had plenty of both. It is a day also of celebrating what brought us together—love.

To my dear husband, Randy, thank you for loving me and for always being here for me and for our family. I appreciate you, cherish you, love you. In 40 years of knowing you and in 39 years of marriage, those feelings have only deepened. Happy anniversary! And I’m sorry about that green punch.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From Faribault: Food, fair food & flea market finds May 13, 2021

Vintage fans and a thermos for sale at a past flea market. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2018.

FROM A FLEA MARKET to food trucks to a farmers’ market, the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault will be abuzz with activity on Saturday. And I can’t wait. After a year of mostly social isolation, Randy and I are finally vaccine-protected and ready to enjoy local events.

A scene from the May 2018 RCHS Spring Flea Market. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2018,

The May 15 trio of activities begins at 8 a.m. with the Rice County Historical Society’s Spring Flea Market. Rain or shine, the outdoor market runs until 2 p.m. in the RCHS museum parking lot and grounds. I’ve attended this event in the past. It’s fun to look through the assortment of merchandise from antiques and collectibles to crafts and much more. One person’s “junk” truly is another person’s treasure.

Tiffany Tripp of Graise Farm co-coordinates the Cannon Valley Farmers’ Market and sells her farm fresh eggs and more at the market. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

In the heart of the fairgrounds, farmers, producers, bakers, crafters and others will vend their products at the Cannon Valley Farmers’ Market from 10 a.m. – 2 p.m. The locally-grown, homemade goods come from small-scale farmers and producers in Minnesota’s Cannon River Valley. The Cannon River runs just across the road from the fairgrounds. Twenty-plus vendors will sell everything from beef to eggs to chocolate treats, bread, jelly, honey, cheese, homemade soap, plants and much more.

Photographed on August 29 in the Ace Hardware store parking lot, Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2020.

Also starting at 10 a.m. is Fair Food Truck Days with eight trucks open for food sales: Cavemen Grilling, Delicious Potatoes, El Rey Del Taco, Lopez Concessions, Pretzel Wiz, Schroder Concessions, Temple Concessions and The Local Plate. Food sales will run until 4 p.m. and then repeat on Sunday at the same time. This will jumpstart the season of community festivals and fairs after a year without.

That said, we are still in a pandemic. If you attend, please follow all COVID safety guidelines (ie. wearing face masks and social distancing) as set by the state and hosting parties. We owe it to our friends, neighbors and strangers, especially unvaccinated kids, to keep them safe.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A pause & a follow-up May 12, 2021

Graffiti on the Teepee Tonka Tunnel. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2021.

SIX DAYS AGO I PUBLISHED a post, “From Faribault: When Graffiti Overtakes Nature & History,” which generated intense local interest. A Facebook group for people who grew up in Faribault linked to my post. And, no, this is not my hometown and I’m not on Facebook. But I have lived here for 39 years.

I appreciate the more than 1,500 views of that May 6 post. But I don’t appreciate some of the comments that followed. Let me explain.

The entry to the tunnel now covered with graffiti. Several years ago, the city installed lights inside the tunnel and painted over the graffiti. But the “art” is back. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2021.

Initially, comments on my story about graffiti along the Teepee Tonka Trail leading into River Bend Nature Center, specifically inside an historic tunnel and on a footbridge over the Straight River, came from regular Minnesota Prairie Roots readers. They have no connection to my community. But I have an already established relationship with those readers, who comment often. So I approved their comments. Yes, I moderate replies to my posts.

Graffiti mars this footbridge across the Straight River along Teepee Tonka Trail. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2021.

PUSHING PAUSE ON COMMENTS

When comments began rolling in from those who followed the Facebook link, I pushed pause. I didn’t like much of what I was reading. The first comment, in fact, was threatening. I won’t give voice to those words here. But suffice to say that I felt uncomfortable with the message written by this anonymous individual.

Other writers used derogatory words to describe Faribault and the individuals creating graffiti. I may not like what these taggers are doing, but I also don’t like name-calling.

And I don’t like the negativity that all too often prevails about Faribault. Yes, people are entitled to their opinions. But it does no good to continually criticize. Every single community faces issues. Amplifying the negative rather than working toward improvement and resolution only perpetuates problems, or perceived problems.

The Straight River, as photographed from the footbridge along Teepee Tonka Trail. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2021.

THE POSITIVES OF FARIBAULT

Faribault is a place of incredible natural beauty from our many parks to the two rivers that run through to, yes, even that trail tracing to the tagged tunnel.

Faribault is a place where history matters, as evidenced in our downtown historic district, historic homes scattered throughout the city, aged churches, Shattuck-St. Mary’s School, Buckham Memorial Library and many more buildings. Even our viaduct. And the Central Park Bandshell. And the historic Faribault Woolen Mill. And, yes, even the 1937 Teepee Tonka Tunnel, hand dug by Works Progress Administration workers as a root cellar for the Minnesota School and Colony.

Faribault is a place of diversity. I welcome our immigrants, who often fled horrendous situations in their native countries. I value opportunities to learn more about their cultures and have always appreciated the work of The Faribault Diversity Coalition.

Faribault is a place of family and community connections. Although I am not rooted here by birth or upbringing, I see generations of families who have called Faribault home. And I wonder sometimes if that’s partially why negativity rises. Sometimes it takes leaving a place, and then returning, to appreciate its good qualities.

Faribault is a place of art. From the many downtown murals to the Tiffany stained glass windows in some historic buildings, to the Paradise Center for the Arts and more, we are a community filled with art and creatives. And, yes, that includes the graffiti artists. When I viewed their art, I couldn’t help but appreciate their talent. Not the content (especially the profanity) or the location of their art, but their skills as artists. If only their art could be channeled into something positive. Yes, perhaps that is a Pollyanna perspective.

An especially bright spot in the heart of downtown Faribault is the Second Street Garden, a pocket garden with positive messages like this one. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2019.

BEYOND WORDS

Some who commented on my initial blog post called for painting over the tunnel graffiti and one (a professional painter) offered to take on that task. That seems a good start, or restart as it’s been done before. Of course, that requires time, money (perhaps via a Community Pride Grant from the Faribault Foundation), effort and tenacity. But, as one individual commented, “This town could use a lot of TLC everywhere.” I don’t disagree.

It’s up to each of us to make that happen. To care. To act. To love. To go beyond words typed on a keyboard.

Note: I moderate all comments on my blog. Because this is my personal blog, I decide whether or not to publish comments.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Make way for goslings (and ducklings) May 11, 2021

Goslings huddle near pond’s edge at the River Bend Nature Center in Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

EVERY SPRING, I FIND myself drawn to pond or river’s edge to watch the goslings, the newborn offspring of Canadian geese navigating the shoreline and water.

Geese are fierce protectors of their young. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

They are just so darned cute. Downy yellow. Sometimes huddling in a circle of sibling closeness.

Swimming into the pond at River Bend. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Still in the protective care of their parents. And, yes, geese can prove fierce when safeguarding their young. I steer clear of these young families, preferring to frame family photos from afar.

Prairie Pond at River Bend. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
I love how the goslings are bookended in a protective line. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.
A goose is barely visible in the dried grasses of Prairie Pond. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

The ponds of River Bend Nature Center (especially the one along Rustad Road) are good spots to spot geese and ducks. When I see young waterfowl, I am reminded of Robert McCloskey’s children’s picture book, Make Way for Ducklings. It won the 1942 Caldecott Medal for most distinguished American picture book and tells the story of a duck family in Boston.

A duck pair in Prairie Pond. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

While River Bend lies a long ways from McCloskey’s Boston Public Gardens pond setting, the universal appeal of ducklings spans the miles between Massachusetts and Minnesota.

A duck emerges among the grasses in Prairie Pond. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Whether in a city, rural area or nature center, downy babies in the care of their parents create, at least for me, a sense that all is well in the world. That no matter the worldwide challenges—especially during a pandemic—no matter the community and personal challenges, the cycle of life continues.

Geese nesting at River Bend. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

Every spring I make way for ducklings and goslings, celebrating their arrival by documenting their arrival. With my camera. But even more, by framing them in my memory during this season of spring.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Focus on mental health: The family living along Hidden Valley Road May 10, 2021

…I THOUGHT I WAS such a good mother. I baked a cake and a pie every night. Or at least had Jell-O with whipped cream.

That quote from Mimi Galvin, mother of 12, struck me as particularly personal and profound in a 377-page book focusing on one family’s experiences with schizophrenia. Six of Mimi and Don Galvin’s children developed schizophrenia, labeled by author Robert Kolker as “humanity’s most perplexing disease.”

Kolker’s Hidden Valley Road—Inside the Mind of an American Family rates as a difficult read. But this 2020 Oprah’s Book Club pick is something every single person should read to understand the depths and intricacies of a biologically-based brain disorder like schizophrenia. And how it affected one Colorado family with children born between 1945-1965.

But back to that quote and the context thereof. Doctors and others blamed Mimi for her sons’ mental illnesses. Their criticism left her crushed, traumatized, paralyzed, ashamed. Feeling all alone and guilty, as if she wasn’t a “good mother.” Such was the accusatory thinking of medical professionals. Mothers, especially, were targeted and even labeled as “schizophrenogenic mothers.” Can you imagine? Movies like Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (released in 1960) reinforced that theory with Norman Bates’ mother blamed for his delusional homicidal mania.

This was also the era of shock therapy and restraints and so much misunderstanding and horror. Even unafflicted Galvin siblings wondered why their brothers couldn’t simply snap out of it. That thought pattern seems almost laughable, even absurd, to me. Yet, too many people still think that. Why can’t someone simply shut out delusional thoughts and paranoia, stop talking gibberish, separate perception from reality, silence the voices in their head, go to sleep rather than stay awake all night…? And more, much more, detailed with heartbreaking truth in this story of the Galvin family.

This family experienced heartbreak almost beyond belief. Tragedy. Abuse. Violence. Disconnect. Feelings of abandonment. So. Much. Trauma.

If I ended this review now, you would likely feel incredibly disheartened, wondering why you would even want to read such a book. And you would be justified in thinking that. But this story of an American family in the thick of schizophrenia is also inspiring. Hopeful. The Galvins allowed researchers to study their DNA, to learn more about “humanity’s most perplexing disease.” A disease centered in the brain. A disease with genetic markers. Mutations. A spectrum illness. No more mother/parent blaming.

I won’t attempt to further explain those scientific findings. I’m not, as I term myself, a medical person. I had to read and reread the medical parts of this book. But I grasp the basics. That researchers, although too often hindered by lack of funding (including from pharmaceutical companies), continue to work on researching and understanding schizophrenia, on finding better medications to treat symptoms and, ultimately, to prevent the onset of this horrible disease.

I encourage you to read Hidden Valley Road. You may struggle to get through this story. But press on. And then, when you’ve finished, vow to love, support and encourage anyone dealing with mental health issues. And their families.

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FYI: May is Mental Health Awareness Month. If you or someone you love is struggling with mental health, seek help. The National Alliance on Mental Illness, which originated in Minnesota, is a good place to start. I will continue to do what I can to advocate, educate and increase awareness.

I invite you to read three previous reviews I’ve written on books that focus on mental health:

Fix What You Can—Schizophrenia and a Lawmaker’s Fight for Her Son by Mindy Greiling

Behind the Wall—The True Story of Mental Illness as Told by Parents by Mary Widdifield and Elin Widdifield

The Crusade for Forgotten Souls—Reforming Minnesota’s Mental Institutions, 1946-1954 by Susan Bartlett Foote

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reflections on motherhood May 7, 2021

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My mom saved everything, including this Mother’s Day card I made for her in elementary school. I cut a flower from a seed catalog to create the front of this card. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

IT’S EASY TO IDEALIZE motherhood. To paint a portrait of an infinitely loving and nurturing mother. Always calm. Always kind. Always putting her children first.

But the reality is that being a mom does not mean being perfect. No one is. Perfect, that is.

So this Mother’s Day, I honor all those women who are moms. Not some idealistic version of a perfect mother. But rather a mother who does her best to embrace motherhood and love those entrusted to her care.

My granddaughter. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo April 2019.

As the mother of three now grown adult children and two beautiful grandchildren, I have a little experience in the mothering department. That doesn’t make me an expert. It just lends more authenticity to my words, to my efforts to give my children roots and wings.

I love my three. Two daughters born 21 months apart. And then the son born seven years and 364 days after my eldest. Yes, she celebrated her birthday in the hospital with her newborn brother.

As a stay-at-home mom, I found raising kids both challenging and rewarding. I expect most moms would say that. Tantrums and sibling rivalry and strong-willed children can test any mother’s patience. But then there were the moments of children snuggled next to me or on my lap while I read books. First, simple Little Golden Book storybooks. Then the Little House series. The Betsy-Tacy series. And more.

Busted in October of 1988 sneaking cookies and “hiding” in the corner of the kitchen to eat them. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

And the moments of delight. Like the morning I caught my daughters eating just-baked chocolate chip cookies in a corner of the kitchen…after I’d told them to wait until after lunch for a treat. My oldest daughter pulled a chair to the counter and grabbed two cookies for herself and her sister. I secretly admired her determination. And her looking out for her sister.

I wanted to raise children to think creatively, to forge their own paths. To care about others. And they did. When the eldest, during her freshman year of college, informed us that she was going on a mission trip to Paraguay, I asked, “Where is Paraguay?” And soon the second daughter followed, journeying to New Orleans to help with clean-up after Hurricane Katrina. Twice. Then, after college, she moved to Argentina for six months.

One of my all-time favorite photos of my son at age 5. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

The son, too, traveled, to attend college and work in Boston for five years. I disliked having him so far from Minnesota. But I respected his choice and my need to let go. Later, he would travel to a professional conference in Japan and then to Europe.

Certainly, there have been challenges through the years. Difficult times. Plenty of tears and angst and worry. The morning my then 12-year-old son was struck by a car while crossing the street to his school bus stop ranks as an especially terrifying moment. That hit-and-run occurred just days before Mother’s Day 2006. Thankfully, he received only minor injuries. Yet, it was a horrible experience. My heart hurts for all mothers who have lost children.

Me and my mom in December 2017. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Although my kids are long-gone from home, my love and care for them remains as strong as ever. I want the best for them. Happiness. Joy. Purpose. To love and be loved. I would move mountains for them, as cliché as that sounds. I expect my mom felt the same.

My mother, Arlene, and me.

To all the moms out there, including my mom and my eldest (the mother of my grandchildren), Happy Mother’s Day! You are valued, loved, cherished and appreciated.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling