Karen Wils photo At right, Mom on the riverside by camp in 2001.

ESCANABA — Strong, like a shot of vodka.

Filled with faith and eager to love and laugh, that pretty much describes my mother. She was a determined woman. Although many obstacles came her way during her lifetime, she did not let them slow her down.

With a worldwide pandemic going on, we all could use a little of Mom’s encouragement and strength right now.

My mother Luella (Stasewich) Rose passed away April 1, 2009.

Her life was filled with incredible trials and tribulations, and at the same time, great love and accomplishments.

She was called a “stubborn Russian” more than once, but it was that combination of toughness and tenderness that brought her through many troubled times.

Mom lost both of her parents by the time she was 17 years old. She and her two next younger siblings raised the younger ones. The nine brothers and sisters stayed together, worked together, prayed together, and learned together in good times and bad.

One thing mom used to say was “back then, we did not have a lot of things, but we were clean.” Soap and water were pretty cheap. I wish my mother’s cleaning skills were still in use today. Bleach and cleanser and boiling hot water — germs did not stand a chance with her.

The illness of her younger days was tuberculosis, an infectious lung disease.

When a routine school TB test left positive red marks on three of her young siblings, the pandemic of their day touched home.

Further testing showed that eighth-grader Bob had active TB. In those days the sanitarium for those with the disease was in Powers, what is now the Pinecrest Medical Facility.

Barely a teenager with a love of the outdoors and all of his siblings at home, Bob was forced to stay at the sanitarium of treatment and care.

Mom was married by then, with two toddlers and a baby. Health concerns, financial concerns and household concerns were epic. When she could, she and my dad trekked back and forth to Powers to see Bob.

For nearly a year Bob was away. Finally doctors removed a third of one of his lungs to stop the spreading infection. While he slowly recovered, Bob got to use the facility’s shops to make a wooden jewelry box for my mom and aunt. He made a silver quarter ring for his youngest sister and several other wooden keepsakes that are still treasures at my family home.

When Bob was first able to visit home, everything had to be sterilized after he used it or touched it. After having three TB tests come back negative, he was finally able to return home permanently.

By the end of the 1960s, Mom had six children. When it was holiday time, all the aunts, uncles and cousins would gather at our house. It was busy, loud and filled with laughter… and great food.

There were some surgeries for mom over the years and some sadness when Harnishfeger pulled out of Escanaba (the factory where my Dad worked for many years).

In 1998 my mother had a major stroke leaving her paralyzed on one side. At first, the doctors warned us that she may not even be able to swallow. Months later with tons of prayer, determination, and therapy, Mom was home.

She couldn’t move too fast anymore — but she could move. She could fold towels, make jokes, bake cookies, love and laugh with her family and friends.

“Love always” was the last words she said to me. I think “love always” will help us get through this coronavirus epidemic and quarantine time — and maybe a wee bit of vodka would help too.

Be happy and be well.

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Karen (Rose) Wils is a lifelong north Escanaba resident. Her folksy columns appear weekly in Lifestyles.