throughhealing helpingglenda haugen

story by | patricia carlson

The wind is cool this morning. It’s early; the sun not yet risen to offer light and warmth. Her keys jingle as she opens the door. She’s greeted by the familiar sight of racks of clothes, shoes, handbags and jewels. She sets her coffee down, powers up her computer and opens her email. There, amid the dozens of messages that have crowded her inbox overnight, is the invitation. She takes a breath and clicks on it. She begins inspecting the colors and font; double-checks the spelling. It has to be perfect…it’s for her daughter.

Glenda Haugen met her perfect match in college. Don was studious, driven and bright. She could see their future together and so could he. Glenda graduated from Concordia in 1969 and Don graduated from Moorhead State University in 1970. They were married in June, 1970.

“She’s the other half of me,” gushes Don. “After 42 years, she understands what my needs are and I understand what her needs are. We just kind of take care of each other.”

Although they were both focused on growing their careers—he as a Certified Public Accountant, she as a marketing specialist—they knew they wanted a family. And they both believed in raising socially-conscious, driven and well-rounded children.

Eric came first. Now a pediatrician, he was an AllAmerican kid who was excellent at school and good at extracurricular activities.

“She was so good with him,” says Don of his wife. “By the time Eric started kindergarten, he could already read.”

Four years later, the couple welcomed a daughter.

“Meredith had a beautiful smile, she could light up a room,” says her dad. “She was so smart and bubbly. Everyone liked her.”

But only a few knew the battles Meredith fought internally.

“Meredith struggled with depression,” explains Glenda. “She was so smart but she had demons in her life that took over.”

Glenda first noticed Meredith’s behavior changing around junior high school. Meredith suffered from severe anxiety, and she started experiencing mood swings. Eric says everyone in his family became concerned about Meredith.

“I was the oldest so I always felt like I had to keep an eye on her,” he says, adding, “but when she started dealing with her depression my parents had to deal with her a lot.”

Like any parent who witnesses their child struggling with an illness—“That’s what clinical depression is,” stresses Glenda. “You can’t fix it. You have to find a way to live with it.”

Glenda and Don did everything they could to help Meredith. They sought therapy, both individual and family. They lavished praise on her when she was in a good state. They rewarded her positive efforts to cope with her depression.

“We did everything,” says Glenda. “It was so frustrating. Some days would be so great and we’d think, ‘We’re all better. Great. It’s over.’ And then one day something would happen and we’d tailspin again. The emotional and mental battles up and down were hard. It takes a toll on everyone in the family. Sometimes you don't see it happening, you just push through each day hoping it will get better. But when you look back you wonder about the days and nights you and the rest of your family have lost or suffered.” a leader

It was the beginning of a war Glenda would fight for her daughter for many years to come.

Glenda has always enjoyed working outside the home. She held several impressive leadership roles throughout her early career: a pricing analyst at an oil firm, Executive Director of the North and South Dakota chapter of the Arthritis Foundation, Program and Membership Director for the YMCA of Cass and Clay Counties, and a marketing executive at an electrical wholesaler.

“I like leadership roles,” says Glenda. “It may sound egotistical to some, but if I want to complain about something I’d rather be active in it other than sitting on the sidelines.”

That’s Glenda. She’s bold. Confident. Assertive. Progressive. They are qualities that have served her well professionally through the decades. And while those characteristics can often carry a negative attachment when associated with a woman, they should not for Glenda because she uses those same traits to boost the profiles of nonprofit organizations and mentor other small business owners. She was President of the board of the Fargo Children’s Museum at Yunker Farm and on the board of The Chamber of Fargo, Moorhead and West Fargo, and she’s been an active participant in the Minnesota Jaycees, Fargo-Moorhead Junior League, and Women in Business group.

“She always wanted to be successful and having successful people around her was important and helping others succeed has always been very important to her,” explains Don. “It’s kind of a combination of those things that worked together for her to be a part of those groups.”

Because of her career and participation in these civic organizations, Glenda was often called upon to host workshops on topics like running a business, being an effective female supervisor and how to promote yourself in the workplace.

“I really believed in the mission of Women In Business,” says Glenda. “At the time we were trying to get women interested in leadership roles. We wanted to coach women on how to start their own business or how to move up where they were working.” inventory. We were of one mind about what we wanted to do and how we wanted to establish it.”

Glenda would have to call on that knowledge herself when Meredith came to her with an idea for a motherdaughter business startup.

Meredith had finished her master’s degree in psychology, but she wanted to explore something different. By the time she called her parents to ask for help setting up the store, Meredith was already halfway through the business plan.

“When Meredith got going nothing could stop her,” says Don. “She had these big ideas and then we’d come in and help. There was nothing she couldn’t get done.”

The Partnership

They would call it My Best Friend’s Closet and it would be the area’s premiere, locally owned consignment clothing shop. Meredith had sourced a location—the former Center of Fashion in Moorhead—and created a vision for the type of merchandise they would carry and who their clients would be.

“We didn’t want a thrift shop,” says Glenda. “We wanted a re-sale shop where we could find people who would consign quality clothing and continually upgrade our

The timing was ideal. Glenda was ready for a new challenge. She wanted to find an outlet to put her marketing skills to use in a way she’d never had the chance to do before because she’d always worked for other people. She was also eager to give young women the opportunity to work at an independently run, locally-owned business.

“She enjoyed being creative with the store,” says Ranelle Turman, one of Glenda’s longtime friends. “She was able to start seeing her ideas come to fruition and she started to see how creative she could be. She had done marketing work before but now she saw she could do her own and be successful with it.”

My Best Friend’s Closet opened in the fall of 2003 and a devoted clientele quickly started shopping and consigning. Meredith was the face of the store and had a knowledgeable flair for fashion, Glenda the behindthe-scenes marketing brains, and Don did the books. It was a family affair.

“They were both so excited about changing the store into an image of what they could see in their minds,” says Don of his wife and daughter.

Customers were drawn in by Meredith’s beautiful smile and bubbly personality. She loved to gab with the store’s regulars and, once again, Glenda found herself wondering if the store would be the difference; the thing that could help her daughter cope with her depression. It wasn’t.

“Everybody knows Meredith as being happy-go-lucky and smart but she had a sad side, too, that she didn’t share with everyone,” says Glenda. “The people she met at the store always saw her as fun-loving and she was with us, too. But not every day was perfect at the store, either. There were certainly ups and downs with Meredith.”

For four years Meredith and Glenda ran My Best Friend’s Closet together, turning it into a go-to destination for gently-used, affordable, and stylish clothes and accessories. But Meredith’s demons lurked in the background and she increasingly self-medicated with prescription medication and alcohol.

“You’re supposed to have perfect children because you’ve been a good person,” says Glenda. “But what she had was genetic and hereditary.” legacy

On June 29, 2007 Glenda and Don received the horrible news. Meredith passed away due to an accidental overdose.

Meredith’s funeral was beautiful, in no short order due to her mother’s exacting plans and ability to shelf her grief.

“My dad really fell apart,” recalls Eric. “My mom had to be so solid, so in charge. She was the one at the funeral parlor making every arrangement. My dad was devastated he couldn’t communicate.”

Four hundred people paid their respects to Meredith and her family that day, including four couples who Glenda and Don had counted as friends for more than 30 years. They’re the type of friends who answer questions about Meredith with, “When WE lost her...” That’s how close they all are. And what they remember most about Glenda in that terrible moment was her strength.

“She spoke with every person who went through the line. That’s what she’s like,” says Barbara Bibelheimer, another one of Glenda’s longtime friends from that group. “If she feels like something needs to be done she does it. I don’t know if I could’ve done that.”

As tough as it was to watch their friend suffer, they—along with the hundreds of others who attended Meredith’s funeral—helped ease Glenda’s pain by donating all the memorial funds to a cause close to her daughter’s heart.

Meredith had always loved children and she had a special gift for communicating with them. She had been a nanny for many years and was a volunteer caring for children seeking counsel and protection at the Rape and Abuse Crisis Center of Fargo-Moorhead [RACC]. She wasn’t abused but she had a kind, compassionate soul and seemed to have a way of understanding the pain children at the RACC were experiencing.

“Meredith had a real soft spot for children,” says Greg Diehl, Executive Director of RACC. “People who volunteer