Plural Wife: The Life Story of Mabel Finlayson Allred

Postlude: Dedication to their parents

187 Postlude The Allred children The ending of the life story of Mabel Finlayson Allred came early on the morning of May 6, 2005. Mama, or Mom, as she is called by her six children , and Grandma as she is to hundreds of children and grandchildren, her own and others’, young and old, in the big family, the polygamist groups, and the church and community, passed on at age eighty-six. Still she abides in the hearts and memories and lives of so many she has blessed with her being. Many in turn bless her journey home to the heaven she believed she came from, where she wanted to be with her Heavenly Father, her beloved Rulon and Melba, her father, mother, brother and sisters, all her loved ones gone on before, back to the beginning of the life story she has written as her gift and legacy. Were Mama to tell the ending of her life story, relishing the details, as she did in telling the stories of her life, she might begin with vacuuming the day before. She wanted her home clean and tidy, as always, to the point of her children teasing her about scrubbing the kitchen linoleum till the patterns were worn off. Occasionally she’d stop to gaze at the gallery of generations of family photos that decked the walls of her kitchen and hall, the treasures of her life, her pride and joy. Tottering on the two knee replacements she’d had in recent years, and nursing a still-healing broken back, she tangled her feet in the vacuum cord, fell, fracturing her left hip. With her electronic help bracelet, she summoned the paramedics who were admitted by a neighbor living next door in the duplex that she had shared for years with her twin and sister-wife Melba. She was taken to St. Mark’s hospital in South Salt Lake City, where Dorothy’s daughter Denise worked as a labor and delivery nurse. Denise was off shift, but came immediately and threw her nurse’s weight around to get Dr. Mariani, who had performed Mama’s successful knee surgery to examine the X-rays. He recommended and offered to perform immediate hip replacement surgery, which would enhance her recovery––so kind of him, as Mama would say. His nurse, Portia, who Mama loved and trusted, made a special trip to the pre-op room to comfort and encourage her. Because Mama worried about her tangled hair, Portia removed dozens of 188 Plural Wife hairpins and applied a brush before putting the surgical cap in place. And the surgery went well; everyone was encouraged that she’d recover quickly. She awoke from anesthesia late in the evening and felt well enough to receive visitors. Rob and some of his family with Denise and her sister Layla came to be with her, sharing love and stories and quiet laughter, celebrating another of her remarkable recoveries. As the hour grew late, Mama kept entertaining her visitors even though her eyes grew heavy and she’d drift off. Finally Layla said, “It’s ok, Grandma. You don’t have to keep telling us stories if you’re tired.” Mama said, “Oh, thank you!” Rob offered to give her a priesthood blessing, in which she was promised that God would grant her the righteous desires of her heart. It was after midnight when the nurses shooed everyone out so that Mama could get some rest. Mama slept until six or so the next morning, waking refreshed and in good spirits. She told the nurses she wanted to make herself presentable for the visitors who would be coming. She got out her make-up, penciled on thin eyebrows, patted rouge on her cheeks, put on lipstick, and brushed her long hair, still chestnut through its dusting of gray. Now she was ready for come what may. Then she told the nurses she was feeling a little tired and wanted to lie back and rest a while. Scarcely had the nurses returned to their station when Mama’s vital signs alarm went off. They rushed to attend her and tried to revive her, but she had gone on, gussied up and beautiful for her heavenly homecoming , her spirit as rich as any among the celestial treasures. Perhaps it was a blood clot, an aneurysm or stroke that took her so quickly. Perhaps it was her heart, fragile from birth but strong in loving over a lifetime. So saddened were her...