This is the post that I think I have been most excited to write. I wish I would have gotten to it earlier, because I have forgotten some of the stories I wanted to include. This one is going to be a long post, so pull up a chair.
Memorial Day Weekend, the kids and I went up north to stay with my parents. I had planned on doing this, because I wanted to go with my Mom & Aunt Ruth to decorate the graves in Richfield. I have been telling them for a few years that they needed to draw me a map or make me a list or something that will tell me which graves I'm supposed to decorate after they can't do it anymore. They just keep telling me that it's easy. Whatever! I was excited to have a Memorial Day off so that I could go with them.
Just a little family history. My mom is the youngest of seven kids, and her mom died when she was 16 and her stepmother died the year my parents were married, and her dad died the year after. My parents were a little older (by Utah standards anyway) when they got married, and they waited ten years for the privilege of adopting my twin and I when we were just shy of a month old. If you've done the math, you will quickly figure out that I never got to meet my grandparents. I have cousins that knew Grandpa, and that have kids older than me. I have taken a recent interest in knowing my ancestors better, so I relished the opportunity to spend some time pestering my mom and aunt to tell me stories, and I wasn't disappointed!
The BEST Mom ever (mine), My Aunt Francis' kids Michelle and Bernard, my Aunt Ruth
My cousins met us in Richfield. My cousin Bernard's wife had sadly passed away the week before, the funeral was the Friday before Memorial Day. I stopped by the luncheon in Cedar City on my way to SLC for the weekend, and it was actually the first time I remember meeting Bernard. I got to see cousins and second cousins that I haven't seen in years. I got to see Aunt Francis and Uncle Ardith, and I haven't seen them for a long time because his health isn't very good. Hmmmm, I wonder what I did with those pictures. Ahhhh, but I digress. On with the story, and hopefully I will come back to those pictures.
After we finished at the cemetery my mom asked me if there was anything else I wanted to do while we were there. I'd remembered that when I went with them when I was a child, we would often drive past the old house they were raised in, so I asked if we could do that. We had learned at the cemetery from one of Mom's cousins that it was the Baptist minister in town that owned the house, and that she was very nice. When we pulled up in front of the house I made Aunt Ruth stop so that I could take a picture of it.
Isn't it beautiful? Not fancy, but beautiful in it's simplicity. Once I got Mom and Aunt Ruth telling stories, they remembered so many things that I had never heard. Apparently, Grandpa's brother-in-law (his sisters husband) built this home, and then Grandpa (or Daddy as they call him, how cool is that, they still call him Daddy) bought it and they spent most of their growing up years there. Since my husband is an architectural drafter, he has made me notice the beauty in architecture. I absolutely LOVE this home. It's beauty is not only because of it's architecture, but because of all the love and memories it holds for my mom and aunt. I BEGGED them to knock on the door so that we could go inside, but they thought that would be intrusive (even though I could tell they both wanted to). I told them, that if I lived there, I would think it was awesome to have two women who were raised there stop by and tell me stories of the home. I was really disappointed when they weren't persuaded.
They asked me if there was anything else I would like to see. I told them that I would like to see their old farm. We drove over there and a lot of it has been turned into a subdivision, but part of it is still standing. I of course made them stop so I could take a picture. There is a building still standing on the property that they call "the granary". You can barely see it in this picture, it's straight back right in the center of the picture. I couldn't get any closer because of a fence, and due to computer malfunction, I don't have any photo editing software right now, so this is as good as it gets.
How many of you can say your grandparents eloped? I can! Apparently, not only did they go up to Manti and get married, but they came back and spent their honeymoon night in this granary. Grandma used to tell the family that she had gotten married in boots that required a needle to unlace. I had never heard this story before this trip. My great grandmother passed away from complications of childbirth when my mom was born. When she knew she wasn't going to recover from the birth, she told my great grandfather who she wanted him to marry, but that she wasn't to raise Grandma, because she wouldn't treat her well. So, that's exactly what he did. He sent Grandma to her grandparents (my great great grandparents) to be raised. My great great grandmother had a toddler she was still breastfeeding, and so she weaned her, and started feeding my 6 week old grandmother! I can barely write this post, as I keep crying, so bear with me. When my grandmother got to be marrying age, she was dating a "fellow" that she really thought she was going to marry, but my great great grandmother (who had raised her), liked my grandpa better, so she married him. How many of us are willing to sacrifice the man we thought we would marry to do what our parents (or grandparents) thought was a better choice for us. She didn't date grandpa very long, but apparently it was long enough. They were happy together according to Mom and Aunt Ruth. Remember the woman my great grandmother didn't want to raise her daughter, well it turns out she was right. I guess my great grandfather didn't have a whole lot to do with Grandma, because his wife didn't want him to. Grandma asked Great Grandfather for a coat to go to high school, and he said he would give her the money, but when he went to give it to her, his wife wouldn't let him. It turns out that Grandma came close to her six half-brothers and three (maybe four, I'm not sure) half-sisters though. When she passed away, her six half-brothers were the pallbearers at her funeral. Boy, were times different back then.
TO BE CONTINUED...
No comments:
Post a Comment