My mother ❤️ Someone once said “A most misunderstood woman” How so is my response today, but at one time I would agree.

She went nowhere without her camera is what I recall the most. This proved her love for family and friends.

My mother, Winifred Clare Kaseberg, was perfect and this is why the low vibrational comment, by Malcolm Weintraub Esq. made sense to him. This person was one of the attorney’s who handled my parent’s estates when they died, q and he did not know my mother.

I would guess he was jealous and preparing to rape her estate.

Now that I’m 72 years old and have a bit of life under my belt and experienced many attorney’s, I know exactly why this man uttered these words; I see them resonate with what my last attorney said to me, “You have spent so much of your life in privilege; it’s time for you to experience what it’s like to have nothing!”

Mean, Jealous and Greedy comes to mind; all very dangerous emotions.

However, my mother was kind, loving, smart, beautiful, witty, creative, talented, cleaver and elegant. She was an only child to a very successful sheep rancher; she was the third generation to the Diamond K. Ranch in Roseville, California. The land was purchased by my great grandfather in the middle 1800s at 80 thousand acres. The largest piece of property that was not part of the Spanish Land Grant.

My mother grew up surrounded by loving relatives, in a big white Victorian house my great grandfather built, enjoying all that goes with ranch living in elegance from God’s hands. She loved gathering chicken eggs everyday, tending to the horses, watching the sheep shearing, lambs being born, swimming in the pool, playing house in the dollhouse that Grandpa Kaseberg,(her father) built, watching the many peacocks on her ancestors land and talking to the many stunning Oak Trees on their property. She loved them all yet had her favorite; wedged a board between two of them, and watched the trees, over the years, grow to secure what became my mother’s reading bench.

My mother’s mother died relatively early in life. I think my mom was about 13 years old.

Mother was an excellent student; something she was very proud of. She married at between 17 and 20 the first time. Then she did something remarkable for her time. She attended Stanford University and got a degree in English; graduated Magna Cum laude in the 1930s, but it may have been earlier? I’m not totally sure about the date, but know she and her first husband brought into the world two beautiful daughters, who were raised by not only my mother, but caring relatives who lived on the ranch as well.

So Mother divorced her first husband because as she said, “Marshall was an alcoholic who refused to do anything about it.” She continued as a mother to my half sisters Winnie and Jennie, while spending lots of time at Lake Tahoe in the cabin Grandpa Kaseberg built; one of the first cabins to be built on Lake Tahoe.

Mother remained very close to her mother-in-law, so I assume my much older half sisters spent time with she and her husband, their grandparents?

Mother became a bit of a socialite in Sacramento, California and eventually met my father, Robert Alvin Breuner; the youngest son of five boys and third generation to a furniture company started by his grandfather in 1856, The John Breuner Furniture Company.

Mother and my father had two more daughters; my sister , Kitty, and myself; we are ten years apart. I am the youngest. All my sisters and I are years apart in age.

This is what I saw growing up with my mother. I was pretty much an only child. My mother kept a beautiful, stunning home. We ate dinner by candlelight every night in the formal dinning room. No hair rollers allowed…lol!

Although my memories of growing up on the ranch are many, and so joyful, by the time I was five years old our family moved from Roseville, California to Sacramento, spending only the weekends at the ranch or Lake Tahoe.

My mother did it all; she managed her ranch, after my grandpa Kaseberg died sitting on her bed, dressed in her Chinese dressing gown, glasses perched upon her nose, drinking coffee from a Limoge China cup. This is where she planned her day, travels to Europe, her event planning, charity events etc.

We’d visit Grandpa Kaseberg before he died, while spending his last years in a duplex in Sacramento, then we’d visit Auntie Win, also elderly in an apartment . They both moved from the ranch with us, since Mother needed to watch over them in their older years.

Often during the weekdays, Mother would drive out to the ranch to pick roses from her rose garden, and gather greens from Magnolia trees by which to decorate our home in most rooms, but always for the centerpiece of the dining room table and front hall.

It seemed like there was a dinner party all the time, because there was always someone for dinner, mostly relatives and Dad’s business people.

My mother’s famous dish was Lamb Stew, Spring Lamb Stew🤗 She was a fantastic cook, and she basically catered church events with her famous spaghetti casseroles, at least once a month; arranged flowers at the altar in the church.

Once a month, Mother gathered roses and greens, from the ranch, for all our relatives at the mausoleum. I was very young , as I recall, going there with her, helping her arrange flowers for our relatives, hopefully in Heaven, as she gave me history lessons. She never said one thing negative about anyone, which I remember as feeling very warm. Her famous saying was, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Although my mother was extremely practical in just about everything, and I found little fault with her, I didn’t agree with her quote above, and I know why.

I also remember refusing to go to the bathroom in this mausoleum; it gave me the creeps, so Mother would say, “ Come on Sweetie let’s run home so you can go to the toilet” and she’d lay her hand on my back as she lovingly pushed me out the door and into her 50s station wagon.

We’d immediately return to the mausoleum to complete the refreshing of crypts with roses and greens and more history stories.

Mother braided my long fine hair every morning; washed it in Breck Shampoo twice a week, and rinsed my locks in vinegar. She’d always comment on the cowlick I had, and how I “mustn’t” ever wear bangs. My forehead was too narrow for bangs, in her opinion.

I loved this time with her; the mausoleum was warm, peaceful, smelled great and gorgeous.

Every Christmas Mother put on her famous huge Christmas Party with the best appetizers God ever thought of. I’d say they’re still unchallenged today🤗

I could always hear Mother was around no matter where we were, as she wore two solid gold bracelets on her right wrist which were constantly rattling together as she moved. They were like her “cowbell”. She was known for them. And they couldn’t be removed she said, for the bump on her wrist from when she fell out of the, second story, window at the ranch breaking almost every bone in her body.

I have no memory as to when this happened? It may have happened before I was born? Nevertheless, Mother showed no other signs of this horrible accident, other than my father and two half sisters claiming she jumped on purpose…tried to commit suicide, which I absolutely don’t believe. Mother loved life too much.

My mother was the girl scout leader for my troop, she taught Sunday school at our church, she took me to the Russian ballet in San Francisco once a year; we shopped for school clothes twice a year in the city as she called it, and I’ve seen every musical ever produced from the late 40s through 1970, and this is only because my mom died in 1970. I was able to share some of these same experiences with my daughters, but not as easily done in Detroit where they grew up.

Mother made sure I took ballet and horseback riding lessons to keep me well rounded.

Mother took my girlfriend, Nancy and I to Europe when we were about 14; we saw the Folies Bergere, met the Pope, skied the Jungfrau in July, visited every cathedral, and museum there was in the UK, France, Denmark, Italy, Switzerland and Germany. We dined in some of the best restaurants, and celebrated Bastille Day in a really famous restaurant.

When I got sick, Mother would tuck me into bed and spoon feed me fresh cut lemon juice with spoonfuls of sugar.

She’d stand at my door at bedtime and recite, a poem, “Someone Came Knocking”at my wee small door.

My mother could knit sweaters for all the grandchildren in six months; she had many; 14 to be exact.

And oh boy could she decorate; my father being part of a very prestigious furniture family should have admired this.

And at Christmas, our home was a showplace! Believe me, even today my mother could trump Martha Stewart’s work in all areas. No disrespect Martha but my mother was a first in most social and homemaking arenas.

Her taste was exquisite!

She was a photographer with a special eye, and she loved beautiful fashion. Her hobby was collecting antique and vintage clothing, while repairing and storing these pieces in cedar closets wrapped in paper, not plastic.

Mother was ahead of her time❤️

For charity my mother put on fashion shows in Sacramento, using all these vintage and antiques garments. Most of these pieces were so tiny in size she’d have to hire my friends and I to model them.

Mother was also the queen of going clothes shopping in the city, having the items sent home, then the two of us would have a “try on fest” in our own mirror, then she’d send back what didn’t suit us as well as it might have in the store.

Mother always said, “It’s most practical to see yourself in your own mirror in a new garment before making a final decision”

My father basically called her “Nuts” for doing this and claimed she was embarrassing him.

The truth is she was ahead of her time❤️

So here’s the kicker; my father was so jealous of my mother that he found a way to completely destroy her reputation and character to not only all Mother’s friends, but her four daughter’s as well.

This is when I stepped in, as a ten year old telling my father what I thought of what he was doing to her, “Dad, why don’t you like my mother”, I would ask .

I would soon find myself in boarding schools, later in life to realize this was to shut me up. See I didn’t believe in one of my mother’s philosophy’s , “If you can’t say something nice; don’t say anything at all”

My father liked things like putting my beautiful mother down, this gave him power. He apparently had none of his own.

I wanted to be beautiful, loving, kind, creative, talented, witty, cleaver, and elegant just like my mother.

My dear precious mother died at 62 years old, by very strange circumstances, and way too young…but I recall feeling like her life was very difficult dealing with my jealous father and three daughter’s who had totally turned against her because of my father’s lies about their mother. She would finally be at peace.

By the time I married, the first time, I learned that my mother’s great wealth was why my father was so jealous of her, along with the many freedoms and talents she bestowed. I was experiencing the same pain my mother had in my very young marriage?

Not that my dad didn’t have much to be proud of in his own right.

My first marriage failed as well after two beautiful daughters and five years. I married the second time, finding myself married to another very jealous man for twenty four years.

The unions were much the same as my mother’s to my father. I became everything she taught me to be, by her “EXAMPLE” . Like my mother I love my, now three, daughters more than life itself, and after embezzling all my funds, along with my daughter’s funds, my now ex husband has destroyed my reputation to everyone I knew, especially my daughter’s, in order to cover up his crimes. Just like my father did.

My mission in life has always been to rectify my mother’s life, I didn’t realize it would have to get even worse for me, in order to do this.

Today I am truly blessed to finally see, after twenty years of being estranged from my daughter’s, life is getting much better with love, understanding and the realization of just how horrific jealousy actually is. I feel like I just might be teaching my daughter’s a very important lesson in life; one my mother taught me through “Example” of her beautiful, but sad life, if this makes sense. I have brought our family of strong women, one generation further in understanding abuse; starting with inancial abuse. We have a lot further to go, but I have faith we’ll make it.

As I know to be true, “ What goes around comes around, and when we don’t pay attention to history, we’d relive it.”

Happy Mother’s Day In Heaven Mom❤️🥰

Thank you for all your wonderful “EXAMPLES”

I LOVE YOU🥰