My Special Relationship with Opoe

My maternal great-grandmother, Hilje Mulder Folkers, and I had a special relationship when I was a very young, and this relationship still affects me emotionally some 65 years later.  Opoo had lost her husband before I was born, and she was living with my grandparents, Hermannus Thiessens and Henrietta Folkers.  When I was born, we lived at 326 Bryan Avenue in Salt Lake City Utah.  Also living in the family were my mother Ruth, and my aunt Grace.  Mom was seventeen years old when I was born in 1944 and dad was serving in the Euorpean Theatre with the United States Army - Air Force.

Since grandma Thiessens worked and grandpa was unable to because of disability and Hodgkins Disease and my mother also worked, I was taken care of much of the time by Opoo Folkers.  She had been born in Aduard, Groningen, Netherlands on 6 May 1858 to Hendrik Mulder and Fokje Kloosterman.  In her aging years, she made sure that my diapers were changed and that I was well taken care of.

I remember going with my grandmother Thiessens to the Salt Lake County General Hospital to visit her when I was about three years of age.  We stopped outside the hospital and purchased fruit or flowers from a street vendor.  I can also remember that I had the opportunity to visit her for a brief time.

The room where she was located in the hospital was a ward with several beds.  I remember that several women were making noise of various sorts, and one in particular was repeating "shut up!", "shut up!", "shut up!" over and over again.  This did not seem like a hospitable place to me.  I remember very little of Opoo, except that she was very short and very loving.  She was extremely fussy in the way that I was taken care of, and demanded things be "just right" when it came to my care.

On 5 March 1948, she was said to have fallen from the window ledge where she was sitting with the window open, much like I saw some of the women who were in the hospital ward do.  But the family has the idea that she probably jumped, as she was not in her best mental state of mind while in the hospital--like I remember of others in the ward.  At any rate, she met her death just short of 90 years of age.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I still remember her and the close relationship we had.  I was blessed to have the association because she never did learn to speak English.  When I later served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I was told that the dialect I spoke when I learned the Dutch language was from Groningen, the city of my grandparents and great-grandparents.  Many Amsterdamers said that they could not believe I was from United States, because I spoke Dutch with the accent of the  northern province of Groningen, and I attribute much of that to my Opoo!

Ethiopia Is Enchantingly Beautiful
My Mother, My Best Friend
 

Comments 3

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Annie Payne (website) on Tuesday, 01 May 2012 07:21

A loving tribute to an influential and loving person in your days as a wee lad, Golden.

A loving tribute to an influential and loving person in your days as a wee lad, Golden.
Tom Cormier (website) on Tuesday, 01 May 2012 12:08

Wonderful Golden. I wish I was able to learn the language of my heritage. My grandparents spoke French but never allowed this in the home. I'm particularly fascinated that you not only learned probably the most difficult languages in the world, Dutch, but you were also able to establish a dialect. I can't even imagine such a thing.

Wonderful Golden. I wish I was able to learn the language of my heritage. My grandparents spoke French but never allowed this in the home. I'm particularly fascinated that you not only learned probably the most difficult languages in the world, Dutch, but you were also able to establish a dialect. I can't even imagine such a thing.
Karen Mack (website) on Tuesday, 01 May 2012 22:46

What a wonderful story Golden - and WoW! you were called on a mission that allowed you to learn your ancestors language! I had something a little similar, Dad Mack went on a mission to Tahiti and was then later called to be Mission President. Then years later,I had a son that ended up also being called to Tahiti where he learned both Tahitian and French. It was great for him to talk to Grandpa in Tahitian!

What a wonderful story Golden - and WoW! you were called on a mission that allowed you to learn your ancestors language! I had something a little similar, Dad Mack went on a mission to Tahiti and was then later called to be Mission President. Then years later,I had a son that ended up also being called to Tahiti where he learned both Tahitian and French. It was great for him to talk to Grandpa in Tahitian!