Joan Therese "Bonnie" Morris

Joan Therese (Bonnie) Morris was born in Brooklyn, New York on February 21st, 1937 and passed away unexpectedly on December 11th, 2018.  She was 81.

Bonnie was a nickname given to our Mom by her father, for being such a sweet Scottish Bonnie lass. Her eyes were a beautiful bright blue, the color of the ocean on a clear, sunny day. She had the most exquisite hands I have ever seen and from her fingers flowed a very distinctive and elegant handwriting that wasn’t taught to her, but which said so much about her gracefulness.  When she was in her 40’s I gave her another nickname, Soomoo, which she loved.

Our Mom had so many happy childhood memories.  Most of those involved her younger sister Jeanette, and the two of them spent many summers swimming and sunbathing in Cape Breton, New Jersey where their parents owned a home that was literally two blocks from the ocean.   They loved the Jersey Shore, long before it came a “cool spot”.  Those years instilled our Mom with a lifelong love of the sun and the sand.

After high school, both she and her sister decided to pursue a career in nursing and together attended the Kings County Nursing school and earned their RN certifications.  Not long after she graduated, she met and married our father, Lawrence Marshall Robertson Jr. in May of 1958.    Lawrence “Larry” was a young physician and our Mom supported him through his medical internship and a grueling neurosurgery residency in Boston while at the same time caring for their two young children, Colette and Michele.  After Larry’s medical training, they settled in Denver, and completed their family with Laurienne and Robbie.  I once asked my Mom what the happiest day of her life was, and she said it was the day Robbie was born.  I remember going to the hospital with my Dad to visit Robbie when he was days old, and yes, with the April Easter blue bunny ears, I figured he would do.   Our Mom was an officer in the Colorado Women’s Medical Auxiliary charitable organization.  She spent her days and years helping us make amazing Halloween costumes and letting us host outrageously fun birthday parties and sleepovers for our friends. She allowed us to routinely raid the linen closet and move all kinds of furniture to make blanket houses.   She herself made good friends and sometimes took a weekday day trip with them to ski at Winter Park.    Unfortunately, though, our Dad’s chosen field was filled with long hours and their marriage did not survive.

Our Mom met her second husband Val a few years later through a mutual friend.  Val was from Albuquerque so after they were married, we all moved here.  She bought a house that she loved with a unique front walkway and other little features that she saw but that we as kids took for granted.  I appreciate that walkway now, knowing that she will not be at the end of it to greet me at the door.  One thing we didn’t take for granted was the pool in the backyard.  My Mom loved her pool, maybe it was her midlife return to the Jersey Shore, where cares could be forgotten, where SPF sunscreen (in those days) was non-existent and where the order of the day was as much baby oil as she could put on.  Looking at her four kids, you wouldn’t believe it was possible, but she turned a savage tan, laying out for hours at a time on the weekends in the hot New Mexico sun.  Our job was to bring her an “ice tea with a lot of ice” and do some pool chores, So, while we liked the pool, our Mom loved the pool.  The rest of her weekend was typically spent working on her glorious garden.  She had the greenest of green thumbs and her talent for gardening was nothing short of amazing.  She loved her Gypsy Dancer roses and she alone could grow a dinner plate sized Stargazer lily.  I would go to her house and be astonished at how wonderful her plants looked compared to those very same plants in my own garden.  Just like me, they adored her – it was almost as if they put on a special show, just for her.    She lived in her home for 44 years and it is hard for me to imagine anyone else but her living there.

Val was not everything he seemed, their marriage dissolved, and years later her undying hope for love led her to marry Del.  She spent many happy years with him, but history has a cruel way of repeating itself so their marriage too, ended.  It may seem to you as I read this, that she was rash and quick to fall in love, but only her second marriage was short.  The fact is that she was looking for what we all seek: unconditional love and acceptance.  While she did not receive that from the men in her life, she received it from us.

So, for most of the time, she was a single supporter of four children and I look back now and wonder how she kept it together.  Quite simply, Soomoo was both our Mom and our Dad.

Eventually, after we were all grown, the State of New Mexico offered an RN license refresher course which she passed with flying colors.  She worked for about 5 years at Presbyterian Hospital downtown as both a nurse and charge nurse on the Women and Newborns Unit.

After she retired from Presbyterian at 62, she found one of the greatest joys of her life was taking care of two of her grandchildren, Jake and later, Sierra.  Grandma “Noomoo”, as Jake named her, had a lasting positive impact on their lives, and Michele and Laurienne are eternally grateful for the hours and hours of care, love, and guidance she provided.

My Mom wanted us to be a strong and connected family.   It was her idea for us to have a fun weekly Monday Night Football get together.  We would also get together to play Trivial Pursuits, and it was a treat for us to watch my Mom and her son-in-law Mark duke it out for that evening’s bragging rights. Both of them were avid Time magazine readers so it was always a close contest, but my Mom was typically the victor.  Nobody knew the pink “Entertainment” category like she did.  Nobody. We called one another on our birthdays because she thought we needed to show one another we cared.  She supported Michele with a weekly one hour Saturday morning phone call to Cleveland, Ohio for four straight years.  She and her daughters compared notes on all the new plants in the High Country Gardens catalog to find the ones they would all plant in the spring.  If one of us needed anything, she would offer to come up and help.  Anytime - day or night.   In turn, as she got older, we tried to help with grocery shopping, getting her a Real ID, and car troubles.  As I write this now, I can see how lopsided this list is.  She gave to us in ways that we will now never be able to repay.

I wish that she was here now, that I could read this to her.  To let her know we recognized and loved ALL of the good things that she was even though we did not say it as much as we should have.  At the end of her will she wrote of us “They have given me their love and devotion and made my life a truly grand experience.  May they love and care for each other always.  My dear ones I love you.  Pray for me, Mom”.  She did always ask us to pray for her, I will do that every night until God takes me to see her again.

My Mom’s favorite recording artist was Rod Stewart, who seems to have captured exactly what my Mom meant to us:

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there's no one else above you?
Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

We all love you so very much Mom, our hearts are so heavy with loss, but in thinking of you, remembering you and the good times we shared, you will “Ease our troubles, because that’s what you do”.  You are with your sister Jeanette now, free to soak up the sun and play on the sandy Jersey Shore.

Bonnie is survived by her four loving children, Colette Robertson, Michele Lesher, Laurienne Allen, and Robbie Robertson.  Her five grandchildren were the light of her life: Jake (20), Sierra (14), Scott (13), Collin (11), and Hannah (9).  She is preceded in death by her dearest sister, Jeanette Fendrick.

Memorial Services will be held on Friday, December 21, 2018 at 2:00 p.m. at FRENCH - Wyoming.