Suegras: La Segunda

Few women are fortunate enough in this life to have TWO wonderful suegras. Dolores Varela was born 17 June 1931 to Jose Varela and Amy Larson of Burley, Idaho. Joe and Amy only had two children: Joe Junior and Dolores. But the four were surrounded by a huge extended family, and Dolores grew close to her aunts and cousins. She married her high school sweetheart, Byron Allred, and followed him around the globe as he pursued his career as an officer in the U.S. Air Force. They would become parents to five boys: Mark, Jon, Eric, Paul, and Phillip. They lived in Utah, Nebraska, Spain, Texas, Turkey, California, Maine, and Idaho. She made an outstanding military wife and created a lovingly disciplined home for her boys. When Byron left the military in 1971, the family settled in Burley, Idaho where Mom taught Spanish and English, and Dad was a school librarian. They moved from Burley to Preston in 2006.

In 1996 I accepted Mark's marriage proposal without ever having met his parents. They were serving a church education mission in Guatemala, setting up Institute programs for young LDS adults. I called her Mom from the first. Over the years, our relationship has become very special. Dolores and I share a number of common interests: we’re both English teachers, we like to shop and sew and bake. We love irises, travel, and speaking Spanish. We like doing genealogy and organizing family photos. And we love spending time with our kids and their kids. I always consider it a real treat to spend time with Mom. On rare occasions, we steal away to shop and go to lunch. We like watching movies together, and we share our reading. Oh yes, and we both LOVE See’s candy! Mom's health is precarious these days, besot with pain. I wish I could take it from her for awhile so that she could do the things her heart and head still long to do. Her testimony is simple and strong, and she continues to endure to the end. I'm so blessed to be able to call and talk to her any time. She is a wonderful friend and confidante. I'm grateful that my husband was raised by a woman who taught him about devotion to God, family, and his country. She taught her boys to care for the women in their lives and to be loyal to family members. I credit her with my husband's loving nature and sense of humor.

Suegras: La Primera

I have been blessed to have two suegras (mothers-in-law), wonderfully supportive and loving women. I like to use the Spanish word for mother-in-law because it's simple and pleasant-sounding.

Zelphia Laverne Greenhalgh, born 31 July 1913, was the second of four children born to Jesse Ray Greenhalgh and Jessie Mae Powell of Santaquin, Utah. Orphaned by age 8, Zelphia was taken in by relatives who expected and demanded hard work from her. She learned to be a pleaser, a chef, a baker, and seamstress, and a gardener. I never knew a harder working woman than her. She was 19 when she married Darrel Jarvis Frost. It was the 1930s, and the Great Depression had decimated the job market across the U.S., but her husband eked out a salary by selling blankets door-to-door. The two lived in a single bedroom in the home of his parents for several years. They had three children while living with Darrel's parents. When the steel mill opened in the valley during WWII, Darrel got a job there. Eventually he purchased a large piece of land in town and built on it a modest home where they would raise their five children. Darrel continued working at the steel plant until his retirement in 1970. Some retirement--he died a year later. When I married their youngest son a few years later, Zelphia cried a lot, but I learned to look past the tears and see the love and loneliness that enveloped her.

Zelphia was my mother-in-law for 20 years. Over those decades, I asked a lot of questions, listened to her stories, and learned a lot about her, and we came to love and respect one another. The first time I ever called her ‘Mom’, she immediately told me, “You’re the only one of my boys’ wives to call me Mom. I really like that.” I called her Mom from then on. At age 83 her health declined and she was hospitalized with congenital heart failure. After two months in rehab, her children brought her home. She sat down at her kitchen table and within an hour passed from this life. We buried her the morning of April 30, 1996. My grandson, Tobin, is buried next to her.

My marriage ended in 1995, and though I no longer carry her name, I carry in my heart precious memories of her and how much she was loved in her lifetime.