Me with my mom in January 2020, right before COVID restrictions stopped visits to care centers. I saw little of Mom in the final years of her life due to the pandemic. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020 by Randy Helbling)
TODAY, JANUARY 13, MARKS three years since my mom died. I hadn’t intended to write about this anniversary date. But then two friends blogged on topics that changed my mind.
My dear friend Beth Ann from North Carolina, who blogs at It’s Just Life, writes today about observing a grocery store encounter between a daughter and elderly mother that reminded her of her sweet mom whom she lost several years ago. The point of Beth Ann’s post is that grief comes in the most unexpected of moments and hits you hard. She’s right.
Hot fudge pudding cake slathered with real whipped cream and topped with sprinkles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Then my friend Sue, who lives in Minnesota, winters in Arizona and blogs primarily about food at Ever Ready, published a post featuring Hot Fudge Sundae Cake. Waves of nostalgia and grief swept over me as I scrolled through Sue’s post. Hot Fudge Pudding Cake, as my family called this delectable, easy-to-make dessert, was a favorite of Mom’s and of me.
Neither Sue or Beth Ann could have known I would be reading their words on the third anniversary of Mom’s death. But I did. And it was meant to be because my grief needed an outlet. My friends’ writing prompted me to write this post.
The cover of the altered book created by Kathleen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
In the process of writing, I headed upstairs to pull a mini keepsake book from a closet. My friend Kathleen, formerly of Minnesota and now of Idaho, created the altered book for me following my mother’s death. She tapped into my blog to pull quotes, information and photos that truly summarize Mom’s life and our relationship. The book brims with words of love, faith, family and farm life, all at the essence of my mom. It truly is one of my most treasured possessions.
The first page in the keepsake book shows my mom holding me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
So on this day, while the grief of losing Mom feels particularly heavy, it is the creativity of friends that comforts me. Beth Ann’s “Right There in the Baking Aisle” resonates. Sue’s shared recipe brings smiles as I remember. And Kathleen’s keepsake mini altered book stirs within me so many memories of the mom I loved, and still love.
TELL ME: Who are you grieving? What can spark your grief? What comforts you in grief?
A HOPE Christmas ornament, which is too heavy to hang on the tree. So I hang it on a drawer knob. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2024)
HOPE. It’s a word that holds expectations, the promise of something better. And it’s one of my favorite words.
Today, Christmas Day, my hope is that you are celebrating in a way that is joyful and meaningful to you. Perhaps you are with friends or family. Maybe you are alone, far from loved ones. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you understand how much you are cherished. Every. Single. One. Of you.
The older I grow, the more I realize how much we need each other, how connections make life so much richer, better.
Through my writing and photography, I’ve connected with people I would not have otherwise “met.” I have forged friendships across the country that have widened my world to new places, new perspectives, new experiences. What a blessing.
Hope and blessings fill my life. Today, Christmas Day, as I celebrate Christ’s birth as a woman of faith, I also celebrate you and what you mean to me. You are a gift.
Merry Christmas to each of you! May hope and joy fill your day.
This photo, taken at the Grant Wood Rest Area along I-380 south of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, was published in a book about architecture. It was converted to black-and-white in the book. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
THROUGHOUT MY 15 YEARS of blogging, I’ve sold rights to dozens of images sourced from Minnesota Prairie Roots. My photos have published on websites, in tourism guides, on album covers, on packaging for a toy company, in magazines and newspapers, on business promotional materials, on signs and banners, on the cover of a nonprofit’s annual report, in books…
Three of my photos published in this book. (Book cover sourced online)
My Laura Look-Alike Contest photo displayed in a Chicago museum. My friend Laurel happened upon the photo while touring the museum and snapped this image for me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo by Laurel Engquist)
Likewise, I had the honor of selling rights to photos displayed in a temporary Laura Ingalls Wilder exhibit at the American Writer’s Museum in Chicago, at the Minnesota Children’s Museum in St. Paul and at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans. Atherton Pictures purchased rights to a southwestern Minnesota farm site photo for a WWII video created for the museum. I’ve never visited any of the three museums.
The Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji, which can house 72 veterans, recently opened. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Seldom do I see how my photos are used once I email the original high resolution digital images to the buyer. But this summer I had the joy of seeing my framed photos displayed in hallways of the new Minnesota Veterans Home in Bemidji. I was in town to bring my son, who lives in Boston and was in Bemidji for the international unicycling convention, home to Faribault. I knew I had to make time for a stop at the veterans home.
So in between Unicon 21 events, Randy and I headed to the vets home in hopes of seeing my six framed art prints. We found four, thanks to Maryhelen Chadwick, public affairs/volunteer coordinator at the Veterans Home. When we showed up unexpectedly, Chadwick graciously led us through the sprawling Town Center in search of my photos. There, in the hallways of this public space, which includes a multipurpose room, theater, club room, learning studio, family dining room, therapy gym and meditation room, we located four of my photos.
This photo, converted to black-and-white, hangs in the Bemidji veterans home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
My photo of the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall also hangs in the vets home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Curated by a St. Paul art company, the selected images are all veteran-themed. Oversized photos of veterans’ memorials in Faribault and Northfield anchor a hallway wall. Elsewhere in the public space are two more images shot in Faribault—a veteran playing taps at a Memorial Day program and a photo of items placed at the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall. Chadwick later found my photos of sculptures at the county memorial in Faribault and the Rock County Veterans Memorial, Luverne, in the residential wing of the veterans home.
My father, Elvern Kletscher, on the left with two of his soldier buddies in Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)
To see four of my six photos showcased in a public space where veterans, their families and friends, staff, and others can view my work is humbling. I am the daughter of a Korean War veteran. My dad, Elvern Kletscher, fought on the front lines in Korea as a foot soldier. He experienced the worst of war. The injuries. The killing. Atrocities so awful, so horrific that he was forever changed by his time in combat. He suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (unrecognized at the time of his discharge). He endured much pain, heartache, trauma. Nightmares. Flashbacks.
My photo of a sculpture at the Rock County Veterans Memorial, lower right, is showcased in a group of images in the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
But, in his later years of life, Dad found solace among other veterans in a support group through the Redwood County Veterans Service office. I remember how hard officials worked to secure the Purple Heart that Dad finally got 47 years after he was wounded on Heartbreak Ridge. I was there for that emotional public ceremony.
My photo of a dove and eagle at the Rice County Veterans Memorial in Faribault graces a hallway of the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Today emotions swell again as I think of my framed photos hanging in the Minnesota Veterans Home—Bemidji. To me these are not just veterans-related images procured as art. They are a photographic “thank you” to every person who has served our country. Because of individuals like my dad, I live in a free country, in a democracy. I never take that for granted. To be able to express my gratitude via my photos is truly an honor, a joy and deeply meaningful.
I hope my photo of a dove sculpture, symbolizing peace, and an eagle, symbolizing freedom, conveys my gratitude to the veterans living in the Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
NOTE: Maryhelen Chadwick kindly found and photographed my eagle/dove and soldier sculpture photos per my request after I visited the home. They hang in the Beltrami Household, one of four 18-room residential areas, a space I could not tour due to privacy.
Expressions of gratitude are written on tags hung on The Gratitude Tree outside the Northfield Public Library in 2021. I love this idea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2021)
BEFORE I HEAD in to bilateral strabismus eye surgery this week and then recovery and healing, I want to take a moment to thank you, my dear family of blog readers. Thank you for your care, kindness, compassion and prayers. I’ve read all in your thoughtful messages. Mostly, I feel your love and support in my heart. You represent all that is good in this world. I am grateful.
An especially bright spot in the heart of downtown Faribault is the Second Street Garden, a pocket garden with positive messages. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2019)
I expect to be absent from writing and photography and, unfortunately, reading, while my eyes heal. Any blog posts you read this coming week were written pre-surgery and scheduled to publish. I’ll take this one day at a time and update you on surgery when I am able.
Love this LOVE mural in the heart of historic downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2020)
In the meantime, continue to shine your kindness and love into your neighborhoods, your communities, and into this big wide world. I firmly believe we each hold the power to uplift one another, to be that person who puts others before self, who chooses to build up rather than tear down, who exudes a spirit of hope and positivity. Onward, dear friends, onward.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
THE THICK FLORAL WRAPPED PACKAGE arrived unexpectedly in my mailbox today. A sweet surprise from the usual junk mail and bills. As soon as I saw the return address, I knew that whatever I found inside would bring me joy. And it did.
Once I managed to remove the stubborn packaging tape, I discovered a foam sleeve filled with greeting cards from blog reader Roxy of Owatonna. Her selected stash of 27 assorted cards that I can give to whomever I wish is much-appreciated. Roxy, simply by reading my blog posts, knows how much I value sending cards to celebrate, encourage, comfort, thank…
What a kind and thoughtful gift, that also includes stamps on some envelopes and some seals. To receive these cards from Roxy uplifted me in the midst of my ongoing challenging and complex health issues. Many times it’s simply a struggle to manage my symptoms, to get through my days and nights.
But in this moment my focus is one of gratitude for individuals like Roxy, whom I’ve never met. She took the time to put together this collection of greeting cards for me. Her act moved me to tears. And one particular card of birds and vines and florals brought even more tears. It was the scripture gracing the front of the blank card that prompted those emotions. Be still and know that I am God is a Psalm (46:10) I’ve relied on to calm me during challenges. The words remind me of God’s presence even in the chaos of life’s uncertainties, especially now.
Roxy also included seven cards designed by Glencoe artist Bonnie Mohr, who specializes in rural art. Like the Holstein cow wearing a laurel wreath and the fitting message, Wear the flowers. And the quart jar of pale pink roses. A lone tree and a single egg in a nest. Simple. And so me, me who grew up on a dairy farm. Me, rooted in southwestern Minnesota. Me, writer of Minnesota Prairie Roots.
That Roxy understands the essence of me reveals her awareness of who I am via reading my blog. She couldn’t have known, though, that I’ve enjoyed Mohr’s work since her art was featured on the November/December 2013 issue of Minnesota Moments. I freelanced for that magazine many years until it eventually folded. The cover Mohr created is a bucolic winter scene of snow falling on a farm site with Holsteins fenced next to an iconic red barn, aged white farmhouse in the background. That painting speaks to my past, to the family farm, to that which was once the heart and soul of rural America.
The soul of America also exists in good, kind and caring people like Roxy of Owatonna, who penned a personal note expressing her gratitude for the joy I bring into her life and for helping her see the world in a different way via my writing and photography. I am grateful for her generous words and for her well wishes as I work toward reclaiming my health.
I continue to feel grateful for my many readers who have so graciously encouraged me through supportive comments and cards. I feel the love from coast to coast and throughout the heartland. Thank you.
A gift to me, with a note written in clearly disguised handwriting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
THIS MORNING A PACKAGE landed on my front steps. Unexpected. A sweet surprise on this first day of May, a day typically reserved for May baskets left by someone who rings the doorbell, then runs away. I’ve previously received such May Day drops of treats and lovely wishes. But today, oh, today, I got a book dropped by the United States Postal Service.
Fed Up! A Feast of Frazzled Foods by Rex Barron was exactly what I needed. This ABC children’s picture book, which is really for any age, made me laugh. Laugh because it fits how I feel right now. Fed up. Not with anyone, but rather with my recent diagnosis of vestibular neuronitis. The nerve which controls balance in my right ear has been inflamed, leaving me with multi-layered issues. Basically, because of a roadblock in the interconnected pathways in my brain, I need to retrain my brain to navigate along different paths. I’m doing that via vestibular rehab therapy.
Someone among my blog readers latched onto that and found Fed Up!, a vivid and humorous book so fitting of how I feel and what I am attempting to accomplish—retraining of my brain. I have no idea who sent this to me. But thank you!
I also want to take a moment to thank all of my readers. When I started blogging in July 2009, I did so because I am passionate about writing and photography. I’d just ended a blogging gig with a Minnesota magazine, no longer in circulation, and wanted to continue blogging. So I launched Minnesota Prairie Roots. But blogging grew into much more than an outlet for my creativity. It grew into a community. A community that I’ve found incredibly kind, caring, compassionate and more. Friendships have formed. I’ve always felt encouraged, supported and appreciated, whether I’m writing about a day trip discovery, a new book or personal challenges. Likewise, I appreciate that readers share their stories so that I can reciprocate. We are, after all, all part of this family of humanity that ought to care about one another.
Fed Up!, the ABC book gifted to me today is just one of many examples of the kindnesses extended to me through my years of blogging. That an anonymous reader took the time to find this fitting book and then pen an appropriate note touched me deeply and reaffirms my belief that much good still exists in this chaotic world.
How could I not laugh at “Cabbage Crying over Coleslaw” or “Impatient Ice Cream” (with a graphic of a melting ice cream cone) or “Radishes Relax by a Radio”? I laughed in the humor of it all—images and word. But, even more than that, I feel gratitude on this May Day to this anonymous friend and to my wider community of caring readers. Thank you!
Slowly we are beginning to unmask mental illness. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)
HER VOICE RISES. Strong. Compassionate. Without hesitation.
She is Penny Wilson, published poet, blogger, fiction writer, advocate. Penny, who blogs at Penny Wilson Writes, advocates for those diagnosed with mental illnesses. She is open about her struggles with depression. And it is that honesty which impresses upon me how much, how deeply, Penny cares.
From her fixer-up home in a small Texas town, Penny pens pieces that inform, educate, advocate about mental health. Recently she spent hours researching and compiling a list of resources in a post titled “Affordable Mental Health Counseling.” A friend’s need for affordable therapy (when her benefits were running out) prompted the piece. What Penny found was nothing. No low cost or no cost counseling services for mental health issues. I’m not surprised.
Yet, Penny published that list of 14 possible places to find some sort of help. It’s a start, a good resource list. I encourage you to read that compilation by clicking here.
All of this got me thinking given I, too, write occasionally on the subject of mental illnesses. My goal, like my friend Penny’s, is to increase awareness, educate, advocate. I want to use my writing skills to make a difference. Penny and I recognize that we have this gift, this ability to communicate information in a way that connects and perhaps challenges our readers to learn more, to grow in their compassion and care.
Yes, it starts with each of us, individually. Learning. Listening. Acknowledging that depression, anxiety, bi-polar, post traumatic stress disorder, schizophrenia and any host of mental illnesses are hard and challenging and sometimes/often debilitating. Recognition, understanding and support are vital. Not just in words of encouragement, but in action. Individuals and their families need compassionate care.
This book should be in every church library.
I learned recently that Hosanna Church, just up Interstate 35 north of Faribault in Lakeville (and with campuses also in Northfield, Rosemount and Shakopee), won NAMI Minnesota’s 2022 Faith Community of the Year Award for demonstrating extraordinary work and advocacy on behalf of the National Alliance on Mental Illness Minnesota’s mission. In part, that mission is to champion justice, dignity and respect for all people affected by mental illnesses. To read the full mission statement, click here.
Justice. Dignity. Respect. Pretty basic, yet often overlooked by society, where mental illness still carries stigma.
That a faith community like Hosanna reaches out to individuals with mental illnesses and their families and aims to change public attitudes towards those with mental illnesses shows they care. They get it and they want others to get it, too. They love, listen, act. I appreciate those efforts and I’d like to see more faith communities do the same.
We each hold within us the capacity to learn, listen, link. Learn about mental illnesses. Education goes a long way in reducing stigmas and in understanding. Listen to those who live with mental illnesses (and their families). Ask how they are doing, how you can help and genuinely mean it. Link to them in meaningful ways. Offer help. Connect with professional resources. Be there. It’s that simple. Learn. Listen. Link.
A serene rural scene just north of Lamberton in southern Redwood County, my home county, shows the roots of my creativity in the prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2013)
I’VE ALWAYS SENSED within the artistic community an unwavering support of one another. A kinship in creativity. A connection sparked by the sheer act of creating, whether by words, by music, by paintbrush or pencil or camera or hands or…
Craig Kotasek crafted these letterpress print promo posters for his current show. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
Well, Craig heard about my post, followed up with an email to me and then posted the kindest/loveliest/nicest review of my work on his website (click here). I am not only humbled by his generous words, but by his detailed gratitude for Minnesota Prairie Roots. He clearly understands me, my artistic and journalistic passions, my love for small towns and rural Minnesota, and my desire to share my discoveries.
Craig is just one example of how generous this community of creatives.
When we create, we share part of ourselves with the world. I cannot imagine not creating. That comes from a southwestern Minnesota farm girl who grew up with minimal exposure to the arts. No music lessons. No art classes. No gallery shows. No community concerts. Nothing outside the basic core of required class courses in middle and high school.
A snippet of the land my father farmed, my middle brother after him, on the rural Vesta farm where I grew up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2013)
But what I lacked in the arts I found in the prairie landscape. In the unrelenting wind. In sunsets bold and beautiful. In snowstorms that washed all color from the earth. In wild pink roses pushing through road ditch grass. In the earthy scent of black dirt turned by a plow. I took it all in, every detail in a sparse land.
And I read. Laura Ingalls Wilder, pioneer girl from Walnut Grove only 20 miles distant. Nancy Drew with her inquisitive mind. Whatever books I could find in a town without a library.
Today I feel grateful to live blocks from a library. I feel grateful to have access to the arts. You will find me often posting about creatives on this blog. Creatives like Craig Kotasek of Tin Can Valley Printing. He’s a gifted craftsman and artist specializing in letterpress printing. What a talented community of artists we have in rural Minnesota. I feel grateful to be part of that creative community.
As we begin 2022, please remember this, that you are loved. (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo; image taken along a recreational trail in the Atwood Neighborhood of Madison, Wisconsin)
HERE WE ARE, on the first day of a new year. Days and weeks and months unfolding before us. Full of unknowns, possibilities, whatever life brings. Happiness. Sorrow. Sickness. Health. Joy. Sadness. To be human is to experience all. Sometimes alone. Sometimes together.
I expect that, without much thought, you can recall particularly challenging times/events in your life. In those difficult days, you likely felt overwhelmed, wondered whether you would make it to the other side. To the days when the pain and stress and anguish would lift. And light would shine again.
And I expect also that you did not go it alone. Perhaps faith carried you. Family and/or friends, too. Maybe professionals. And your inner strength. It often amazes me just how strong and resilient we humans can be. Even in the toughest of circumstances.
The support and friendships I’ve formed via blogging amaze me, too. I’ve connected with some really kind, caring and compassionate individuals. Some friendships remain virtual. But others developed in to in-person friendships. Regardless, these individuals are now part of my circle, part of my life. Their generosity of spirit has uplifted me countless times.
Me behind my first Canon EOS 20D. (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo)
Most recently, a blogger friend asked what I wanted for Christmas. I wanted/needed only one thing. A camera. Just like the one I’ve used for the past decade plus. A Canon EOS 20D. I’m on my second 20D and it was failing, just like the first. Locking up. I knew its days were numbered and I would need a different camera. The 20D is an older camera. But I’m comfortable and familiar with it. I checked two camera shops online in the Twin Cities metro to find only a few used cameras, none of them a 20D. No surprise there. A new camera was not an option. Have you looked at camera prices lately? Then came my blogger friend’s email asking what I would like for Christmas. She hoped to send me something after the holidays.
Days later, a package landed on my front steps. I hadn’t ordered anything. Wasn’t expecting anything. But when I slit the box, I found a camera body inside. A Canon EOS 20D. I actually shrieked, nearly cried with joy at this most thoughtful gift which allows me to continue to create. I’m delighted to have my third 20D in my hands. I’ve always believed that good photography is more about the skills of the person creating with a camera than about the equipment. I couldn’t believe my blogger friend found this coveted aged camera, and so quickly. I am beyond grateful.
Now, entering into another year of creativity, I fully intend to use my talents to share, in images and words, the world I discover. I will continue to take you into small towns. Along gravel roads. Into woods and along rivers and lakes. To community events. I will show you art and natural beauty, the places I go, the things I see and do. And I hope that in doing so, I bring you joy, expand your world, perhaps uplift you.
Thank you, dear readers, for following Minnesota Prairie Roots. Thank you for supporting my creativity. For recognizing that creativity connects all of us. And that creativity matters.
I’m taking a bit of a break this week in my regular blogging. So please don’t worry because I’m not posting each weekday as is typical of me.
My focus now needs to be on other writing projects with deadlines in a few days. Those require my near full attention. I fell a bit behind when my father-in-law recently died and I couldn’t focus so much on writing. I still feel emotionally-drained from that and other challenges.
Be assured that I will be back soon to consistent weekday postings.
Thank you for continuing to follow Minnesota Prairie Roots, even when I pause briefly. I appreciate and value each of you and hope you are well.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Recent Comments