Pauline J. Jarrell Hause

Mary Pauline was born on May 3, 1919 in the two-story farm house that she shared with her parents (William Booker Jarrell and Cora Dean Eilenstine), three brothers and one sister. One more sister would eventually join the family along with two little brothers that Pauline didn’t have much use for until they all grew up.

The Jarrells lived in the country, 12 miles outside of Lebanon, Missouri. Here’s how she described it:

“We had neither indoor plumbing nor electricity. We were very much self-supporting, though. We had all sorts of animals—horses, cows, pigs, sheep, chickens and geese. We had crops of corn, hay, and of course a very large garden.

“We had a big orchard back of our house that was beautiful in the spring when in bloom. We had peaches, apples, pears, and cherries. Also a long arbor of concord grapes.”

Pauline never liked the fact that she had grown up poor on a farm, but her description sounds rather idyllic compared with hectic urban life in the 21st century.

However, she did admit that the country was a good place to grow up, even though there were chores from dawn to dusk and they had to walk a long way to school over a log that would wash away when the stream it crossed rose with the spring thaws.

With lots of siblings (and all the neighborhood kids who hung about because my Grandma Cody was such fun), they always had plenty of people for games. There were horses to ride and a nearby river with grape vines that swung out over their favorite swimming holes.

Pauline not only became a master of blooming where life and my father’s career planted her. She also was a master of planting and growing whatever would bloom where she was living. She and my father lived on both coasts and many places in between. Reading my mother’s life history is like reading a travelogue with lots of adventures and always with new learning and growth.

What comes across is how my mother was always the one to pack up the household (she could have written a book on how to move in a hurry) and find a place to live in a new city. My dad always had his job but my mom had to start from scratch with every change.

Rather than holding back in fear of another move that was sure to come, she engaged life where she found it—making friends, joining the local Methodist Church, holding positions in the various Methodist Women’s groups and circles she joined. She always left things better than she found them—cleaning, painting, wallpapering—and creating beauty wherever she and my father landed.

She was a creative, caring mother whose memory I will always cherish. We were great friends, even when our roles switched and I became more caregiver than daughter. This is the way of life and I am grateful to have had Pauline in my life for over 60 years.

I am deeply grateful to all those who have known and loved my mother and who have supported us with your love and prayers.