Family learns to enjoy mom only in memory

The interplay of light and shadow cast a late afternoon analogy over the dining room where the Breinholt family has shared Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations for decades.

Light reflects on the memories contained on every wall, as faces smile out into the familiar gathering space. Shadow streaks alongside the light, reminiscent of the woman whose presence will appear at this year's holiday season only in memory.

The mood in the room is a fitting reminder of what happens in families when the heart of a home stops beating, as Jane Breinholt's died on Sept. 29. She was 70.

Her son, Peter, one of Utah's most successful homegrown musicians, finds comfort in this space, reflecting on how she influenced his life; on how the family celebrations will now change; and on the legacy we leave when what matters least takes a rightfully distant back seat to what matters most in life.

In October 2008, the Breinholt family heard the words you're only supposed to read about after they happen to somebody else: the mother of five and grandmother of 11 was diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia. A fast-growing cancer of the blood and bone marrow, it attacks about 12,000 Americans each year, most of them older adults.

When he was a child, that scenario was Peter's greatest fear.

"I had what I felt was just this bond with her. I felt like I was her little pal and I remember thinking, 'Bad can happen, but whatever you do, God, don't take my mom.' "

So for him, "the diagnosis was the most emotional part of the journey. When she died it was devastating, but she had lived with it for nearly a year." Those months gave him, his siblings and his father not only time to say goodbye but also to enjoy the woman they all dubbed, "The Giving Tree," after a much-beloved book by Shel Silverstein.

"She hated that and when we asked her why, she said, 'At the end of the book the tree is just a stump.' In her ending, there would not just be a whole tree but a whole forest of trees. She just grew with everything she gave."

Jane's hairdresser confided one Christmas that the only thing her young son wanted from Santa was a purple horse, which wasn't readily available. A few days later, Jane returned to the shop, with a purple horse gift-wrapped and ready to delight.

"It was always about people to her," Peter recalls, remembering how his mother's natural talents included flower arranging, something she was encouraged to turn into a business, which she eventually did. "But she was so nice, she ended up not charging people," for the services she offered, and it eventually "burned her out," he said.