Enid Olson Slattum

Enid Olson Slattum, beloved mother, grandmother and sister, passed away on Friday, September 10, 2010. Her heart attack, experienced at Texas Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas, was sudden and seemingly painless, and was preceded by a similar, painless heart attack a week before that had left her weak but still communicative. Years earlier she had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Enid is survived by her three daughters, Judy, Valerie and Joan; her grandson, Brandon; and her sister, Nordyce. Her niece, Ann, had shared an enjoyable evening in the hospital with her shortly before she passed away and had given her a warm hug. Her long-time friend, Luci, who brightened Enid’s life with her wonderful sense of humor and generosity, had also visited her in the hospital recently. Enid’s life was full, long and rich with loving relationships.

The daughter of Leonard Olson and Christina Olson, she was born on July 26, 1922, in Joice, a small town in north central Iowa, and grew up on the family farm about 10 miles southeast of town. Only two years younger than her sister, they were close companions in childhood and throughout their lives.

The farms of friends and relatives surrounded her in this close-knit community. Although seeing her friends almost always required a hike across cornfields or down country roads, her rich imagination easily transported her to the larger world, whether through her favorite activities of reading, attending movies or just engaging in inventive games using her mother’s cache of dress-up clothes. Years later when Enid’s daughters visited their grandmother, they competed for these same dress-up clothes supplemented by those of their mom, including the fox stole (the kind where the fox head bites his tail in a furry brown circle around the shoulders), the prim hats with veils dripping over the eyes and their mom’s formal prom gowns.

Perhaps the seed for her adventuring beyond that close-knit community was planted when the family spent the winter in Florida in 1929. She loved Florida – the warm weather, the new friends and the fresh fruit. But the family did not return to Florida and her father died in 1931 of a heart attack. Her daughters suspect that the annual tradition of finding an orange in the bottom of their Christmas stockings was rooted in that memorable Florida winter. Though Enid greatly missed having a father as she grew up, James “Doc” Kittelson became a wonderful surrogate father for her and surrogate grandfather to her daughters.

Enid and her sister trudged the proverbial mile in the winter snow to her one-room elementary school but graduated in a much larger peer group (14) from Joice High in 1940. Throughout her life, Enid treasured reunions with that circle of friends, and would join them despite the hot and muggy Iowa summers (all attendees asked to bring a purple and white pom-pom for singing the fight song). High school was where she met her future husband, Cecil, who grew up on a farm west of Joice.

Enid married Cecil Slattum in 1942, in Illinois, shortly after he enlisted in the army. Their wedding night in a Chicago hotel was interrupted when Cecil’s parents opened the door to their room. Unbeknownst to each other, both parents and groom had reserved rooms in the same hotel, but the front desk gave Cecil’s room key to his father when they arrived. Enid always laughed at what at the time was more embarrassing to the parents than to the newlyweds. When Cecil was stationed overseas, she returned to Iowa. During her early married life she had a variety of jobs, such as a dental assistant for the army and as a university genetics laboratory assistant when Cecil earned his college degree.

All of her three children were born in Iowa, with Des Moines being the family home for several years when Cecil worked as an engineer for Firestone Tires. She kept lifelong friends from that period when their group of about 10 couples shared the pleasures and trials of raising young children, played bridge together and sometimes vacationed together. In 1956, Cecil joined Texas Instruments in Dallas. The family lived in the same north Dallas house until Enid sold it in 1981. Texas became her home and all her daughters attended the University of Texas at Austin. Her daughters often remark on their marvelously happy childhood, a precious gift from their parents.

Having raised her children and given so much to them, Enid fulfilled a lifelong dream and went to college in Dallas, becoming a nurse in 1969. The challenge of learning biology and taking exams after years away from school was worthwhile because she loved her profession. Enid’s compassionate and empathic nature made nursing very rewarding for her. Her many years working at Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas, the hospital where later her grandson was born and where she finally passed away, were particularly pleasurable. Her daughters loved to tease her about several long-term male patients who developed romantic feelings toward her. Enid expanded her helping profession skills when she was registered by the Texas Department of Health as a Massage Therapist in 1986. Her ability to mix a kind but firm touch and to create a relaxing atmosphere made a massage from her a real treat.

When Enid and Cecil agreed to end their marriage in 1977, she began a new chapter in her life as a single woman. She found a fun-loving and compatible group of friends in her Unity Church of Dallas’ singles group. Wonderful people, like Ef, Bob, “Big Bill,” Frances, Diana, Bob, Alma, Luci and Jim, would regularly get together for dancing, dining or games, and, of course, for church. Whether dancing or singing, Enid loved music and admired those who could sing and play instruments.

Enid also was fond of travel, whether on a weekend trip with her good friend Luci to the nearby casinos, or to more far-flung destinations, such as to California with her friend Dian or to Bali with her daughter Judy. Tackling a long distance drive presented no problem because she explained she had a guardian angel watching over her as she traveled. The Colorado mountains were a favorite destination, both because of her daughter Joan and because she enjoyed those peaks and woodlands so much starting from when she first traveled there in the 1950’s. Her daughters Judy and Valerie loved taking her to the California beaches, where she took such pleasure in seeing the ocean.

Enid’s only grandson, Brandon, was born in Dallas on the day after Enid’s birthday party. Though she had planned to set off for her daughter Joan’s house in Colorado that day, she had some sort of premonition that led her to postpone leaving and so was able to come to the hospital to celebrate his birth. Enid’s ESP and premonitions were a running family joke that had just enough of a grain of truth to be a bit eerie. She was a devoted grandmother and knew Brandon well from taking care of him during his early years living in Dallas, as well as later, on visits. Brandon always returned from staying with his grandmother eager to tell his parents about some new experience.

Though she had only one grandson from her daughters, Enid developed close and grandmotherly relationships with several other children beginning around the 1990’s. What started as occasional childcare for three families in particular, grew into much stronger bonds. Enid adored their children and thoroughly enjoyed taking care of them. Her apartment was full of photos of them, she was charmed by each one and she took tremendous pleasure in their accomplishments, great and small. Enid also felt a special fondness for their parents.

Enid will also be greatly missed by her son-in-laws, Judy’s husband Surya, Valerie’s husband Denton, and Joan’s husband Lee, whom she loved and who loved her. They have remarked how her smile and laugh brightened their lives. Enid valued her warm relationship with her nephew, Brian, who moved to Dallas when in his 20’s, as well treasuring his wonderful wife, Ann.

Although Enid was treated for Parkinson’s disease during the final 15 years of her life, she was not defined by that illness. Being a nurse, Enid self-diagnosed. In retrospect, she realized that the first symptoms of the disease (diminished handwriting) surfaced in 1991. Though able to keep the Parkinson’s symptoms minimized with medication for over a decade, by 2007, she needed some extra help in daily life and so moved into an assisted living apartment.

In recent weeks, Enid had calmly and frankly told her daughters as well as friends that she “was ready” for the end of her life. Yet, true to character, she did not simply give up on life. She just did not understand why, in the hospital, she was not getting better when she was making an effort to recover.

A memorial service celebrated Enid’s life on Wednesday, September 15, 2010, in Dallas. Enid asked that her ashes be scattered in the winds of the Rocky Mountains that she found so peaceful, as well as next to her mother in Concordia Cemetery near Joice. Friends and family gathered to remember and honor a wonderful, warm, positive and caring person. The single word most commonly used to describe her was “sweet” – and she certainly was.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that a donation be sent to the National Parkinson Foundation (800) 327-4545, or the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.