Cover photo for Beatrice Stadheim's Obituary
Beatrice Stadheim Profile Photo
2010 Beatrice 2003

Beatrice Stadheim

July 24, 2010 — September 13, 2003

Tribute to Beatrice Stadheim by Wayne Ensrud (her nephew and godson)



Beatrice Ovedia Bridley Stadheim was one of 14 children born to Botolf and Minnie (Knutson) Bridley in Oakland

Township on July 24, 1910. She grew up with the advent of the car and airplane but always cherished the simple wonder-filled life of that earlier time. Her father donated the property where he and his neighbors built and carved the altar and pews for the handsome house of God in Oakland which was sadly dismantled a few years ago. Every visit

to Aunt Bea, we walked through the cemetery where she

remembered the burial markers of each of our long-lived ancestors. She was proud to always recall that in Norway

five brothers and sisters all living and our relatives averaged a life span of 100 years each. I truly believed Aunt Bea would join that hearty list. The whole family of 14 children moved to Albert Lea where they lived on the

shore of Fountain Lake. Although I was born in Albert Lea,

I grew up in Luverne, but my mother Blanche, who was Aunt Bea's twin sister, always longed to see her siblings so my early memories are of an overflowing house of joy and laughter and horsebackriding at my cousin Duane Bridley's house in Gordonsville. Aunt Bea was headstrong and

determined in all of her endeavors. In a time when women

were not so independent, she saved her money and with help

from her friend Kenneth Stadheim who became her beloved husband, she attended beauty school in Minneapolis and returned to Albert Lea where she beautified the local ladies. When she and Kenneth moved to 1435 South Shore Drive in 1959, he built for her a beauty salon where she

continued her skills into her later life. On every visit all my life, Aunt Bea stongly scrubbed my head and gave me the best haircuts I ever had.

Aunt Bea and Kenny were not blessed with children of their own but Aunt Bea was godmother to many of the offspring of her 14 brothers and sisters of which I am lucky to be counted. Aunt Bea was justly proud of her Norwegian heritage and delighted in dressing in her Norwegian finery where she sang with the Sons of Norway chorus. She dearly

loved to sing and dance. She always reminded me that the whole family was musical and that Grandpa Bridley's fiddle which he played at the county fair at the age of 92 is on view at the Historical Society. Aunt Bea was a familiar

face in the nursing homes of Albert Lea where she tirelessly visited friends and family bringing her delicious homemade cookies and lefse and her warm smile and

infectious laughter to lift their spirits. Aunt Bea was one of God's rare and special messengers. Her motto for living was "Count your blessings not your losses." Aunt Bea believed in "tough love." She saved me countless times from wallowing in self-pity, melancholy and doubt.Up evey morning

at 6 a.m., her days were never spent idly. She busied herself with the chores of the house and mowing, raking, and working in her cherished vegetable and flower garden.

I know I owe my own health from being nourished on her homemade breads, jams and pickles. Aunt Bea knew that

"nature was medicine for the soul" and she deeply and

passionately loved nature in all its forms.

Never asking, demanding or expecting others to do for her,

she was a model of giving, sacrificing and loving. I believed she would be with us for more years to come but when the body vessel wearies, the divine spirit must depart.

The final week of her life she had been checked by two doctors and declared in good health. On the next day, September 13 Aunt Bea was found sitting in her favorite chair apparently looking outside at her much loved nature where she peacefully passed on to join her beloved Kenny and proud Norwegian family that was waiting with open arms.

With Aunt Bea's passing one of our ships is missing! A bright light has gone out. But, if we keep her alive in our memory she will continue to illumine our souls with her special brand of tough love and selfless motherly love.

As my father always said: "Never say good-bye..just o'er the hill."


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