Time in My Family

my grandfather in his shoe repair shop

TIME IN MY FAMILY

Well, that title might be a bit misleading. I’m really talking about the watches we have had in our family. After my mother passed away, I found a zip-lock bag in her things. It contained a pocket watch with a strap attached. Mother had left a hand-written note in the bag . It said that the watch had belonged to her father and she remembered always seeing it tacked to the wall in his shoe repair shop. She said that she wanted the watch to go to my son—she thought it would look good with his suits when he was a lawyer.

There is another pocket watch that I have and it also involves my son. Years ago—after my paternal grandparents passed away, I was looking at some of the things that had been theirs. There was a box of old pocket watches, most of them were in silver (silver-tone) cases, but the case of one was different. It has a pinkish gold tone to it, not yellowish brass. It didn’t work but my father took it to the jeweler and had it repaired. Unfortunately, the jeweler replaced the button on the winding stem with a yellowish brass one—not really noticeable, but I knew. The watch was the style that had a covering that opened on the front and the back. When my son was little and watched some children’s show on TV where the characters had a “magic” something (I don’t remember exactly what the thing was—I’m just too old to recall something like that), he asked if he could use my pocket watch to play like the characters on the show. I let him and he had a lot of fun with it. By the way, that watch is safely back in my jewelry box.

Another watch that has seen multi-generation use in our family is my daughter’s Mickey Mouse watch. When she was younger (much younger), she got that particular watch for Christmas one year. She has asked for it and wore for some time, then set it aside (actually, she said I could have it, if I wanted it). Once again, I put a watch in my jewelry box (yes, it is a large jewelry box). Three or four months back, I came across the watch and had the battery replaced. I showed it to my granddaughter and told her how her mommy used to wear it. My granddaughter was fascinated by it, not because she could tell time or because it had belonged to her mommy (remember, she’s only three). No, what she really interested her about the watch was the two buttons on the left side of the watch. When you press one of the buttons the song It’s a small World After All plays and when the other button was pressed it plays The Mickey Mouse Song—you know M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E. Mickey was on the watch face and his arms were the minute and hour hands. When the music played the hands moved faster and in time. When the song ended, the hands reversed and went back to the correct time. My granddaughter played both songs over and over and over and over. Fortunately, the volume on the watch wasn’t very loud.

This are other watches in my jewelry box, but those are the most interesting—at least, to me. Who knows, maybe if I think hard enough (remember, I getting older), I’ll remember more stories about those watches that are just sitting in that dark vastness known as my JEWELRY BOX.

Memory Monday: Precious Memories

four generations of our family

PRECIOUS MEMORIES

I was traveling in the car the other day and the song “Precious Memories” came on. The lyrics nestled in my heart. I thought of all of who came before me—the examples they left, the words of wisdom they shared, the stories of perseverance they left behind.

My grandmother raised seven children as she cleaned other people’s houses and took in laundry, while her husband had a shoe repair shop. The thing I remember most about my grandmother was when she was about 95 or so, she needed paint for her house but she insisted that it come with a 25 year guarantee. Oh, and another thing, my mother said Grandma didn’t care what grades her children got in school, as long as they got an A in deportment. She knew how her children acted and treated others was so important. Growing up, the thing I remember most about my grandfather was that he hated to have his picture made, even snapshots—NO PICTURES. That is until their 50^th anniversary—which by the way was when my grandmother got a wedding ring. After that, he seemed to love having his picture taken. I just realized that I have something in common with my grandfather—I hate to have my picture taken, too. Maybe when I have my 50^th wedding anniversary, I won’t mind so much.

My daddy always dreamed of trying to do things to improve his life, from reading to trying to start some type of business, to changing types of jobs. For him, it never seemed to work—BUT HE TRIED. I guess that’s where I got the part of me, where at 60 years old, I published my first three novels. My mother always voiced her acknowledgement of God’s working in her everyday life. When it rained, she would always mention how God had washed her car or watered her flowers and vegetables. Her words still live on in my heart and make me recognize how God is in all the things we do—big things and little.

I hope that my children have precious memories of me that will live in their hearts and minds for years to come, and maybe even be passed down to future generations.

I wonder what memories of me my granddaughter will cherish in years to come. Will those memories help her in trying times? Will they nestle in her heart and help her to be a better woman? Will memories of a loving grandmommy help her when she feels lonely or troubled as she goes through life?

What precious memories do you have of your parents or grandparents that have helped you through life? 

Memory Monday: Identifying Family in Old Photos

IDENTIFYING FAMILY IN OLD PHOTOS

Sometimes, I have a hard time looking at an old photo and recognizing who someone is. Other times, it is fairly easy to identify someone, even though the person has aged through the decades. I came across the picture above in a file of my husband’s family. These are three siblings—a brother and his sisters. Their names are Oval, Ira, and Vera. Obviously, I know which one is Oval, since he is the brother. The sisters are twins named Ira and Vera (and one of them was my husband’s grandmother). But who is who? I knew they weren’t identical twins. Both of these women have passed, so I can’t ask them. When I looked at a more recent picture of the two:

I know that the sister in red is my husband’s grandmother. The other one is her sister. When I look at the “old” photo, I can see the difference in the two women. Look at their chins in each picture, one has a more rounded chin, the other one has a more squared chin. Now, I know that the lady sitting in the black and white pic is my husband’s grandmother.

Then like I said earlier, I an old family photo of someone and can’t identify him in a second photo.

Here is a picture of my great-grandfather in his later years:

And here is a school picture of him:

Now, can you pick out which of these boys would be my great-grandfather? I can’t, so I just say this is a picture of him when he was in school in the 1860s—he was born in 1851.

How have you identified people in old photos? Have you ever been wrong? How did you go about figuring out who was who?

Memory Monday: Coffee in Our Family Part 1

my father and grandfather - they both loved their coffee

COFFEE IN OUR FAMILY—Part 1

I didn’t start drinking coffee until after I graduated high school, but I remember my parents and grandparents drinking it. My grandfather had a special cup that he used. It was oversized and part of a set of light yellow and brown plaid dishes that my grandparents always used. Every morning at the breakfast table, he would pour his coffee from his cup into his equally-large saucer, then sip it. As a child, I thought that odd, but later learned that was how many of his generation (and those before him) drank their coffee. My dad always had at least one cup of coffee before he got out of bed. My grandmother-in-law would only pour an inch of coffee into her cup at a time—she liked it really hot.

Today, my husband has a metal insulated mug that he fills in the morning and drinks from it all day. I, on the other hand, have several large glasses that I use to make iced coffee year round. I fill one of the glasses full with ice cubes, at a bit of fat-free half & half or heavy cream (depending on which diet I am currently on), a good splash of flavored syrup (sugar-free since I’m diabetic), then give it a good stir. This is the way I drink my coffee year round.

On the other hand, our husband and daughter always drinks their black and unsweetened whether it is from their Keurig, their French press, cold-brew container, or the local coffee place. (A side note—a couple of those coffee devises were lost when a tornado passed by their home.)

It doesn’t matter how we drink our coffee—hot, cold, black, sweet, unsweetened, or (as my husband says of mine) not real coffee, we love it.

Memory Monday: The Beginning of Another Generation Passing

THE BEGINNING OF ANOTHER GENERATION PASSING

For both my husband and me, all of our grandparents (Grandma, Grandpa, Papaw, Mamaw, Mawmaw, Granddaddy, Grandmother, and a grandfather who died before my husband was born) have passed away. We have precious memories of time spent in their homes. Our children knew some of their grandparents (Grandma, Granddaddy, PawPaw who passed away before our son was born, and Granny who passed away before we had children). Fortunately, our children were old enough when my husband’s father and my mother passed that they also have a wealth of memories of them.

But life moves on. Our granddaughter has lost her first grandparent. Appa (her paternal grandfather) passed away over the weekend. At three, she may not have formed many of those precious memories that we have of our grandparents. But maybe, as we (and our family) did with our children, she will learn about him from those who are still here.

Memory Monday: Could It Be?

my sister in front of my grandmother's house

COULD IT BE?

Last week as I was in the middle of re-posting my Thursday blog to several locations, something in the picture caught my eye. As I looked at the house in the background, something clicked. That house looked familiar in an odd way. You have to understand that that  photo had nothing written on the back of it to identify who was in the picture—I had just liked the look on the face of the woman. But the more that I looked at the house, the more I thought that I recognized it as my grandparents’.  The “bones” were the same—front door placement, windows placement, the height of the steps. The outside of the house was different. The posts were different. But my grandfather had bought the house sometime in the 1910s so it only make sense that some changes had been made in the sixty or so years that he owned it. I found a picture of the house (on Google Maps) as it looks now. It has siding covering it, as well as a metal handrail up the middle of the steps—the house was sold to an older couple years ago.

I remember the outside covered in a faux brick with concrete steps from a sidewalk up to the porch. The picture above was taken about 1949. Other than a block walkway and wooden (I think) steps, this is the way I remember the front of the house—even to the concrete planter on the concrete post on the porch by the steps.

All this led me to take a closer look at the woman in the picture from last week. Who was she? I enlarged the face as much as I could. The eyes look a lot like my grandmother who passed away when my father was nine years old. I compared her wedding picture (the only one we have of her as an adult) to the lady with the baby.  The lady with the baby has a fuller face. But if this is my grandmother, she would have been about twelve years (and two children, if the child she is holding is my aunt) older. My daughter and husband both looked at the picture and couldn’t decide if it was the same woman, but we all agree that it might be her mother. Unfortunately, the only picture I have of my great grandmother (She died in 1927, a year after her daughter.) is below and I don’t think that it is her in the picture with the baby:

So this still leaves me with my question—Is the woman with the baby the same woman who posed for her wedding picture twelve years earlier? Do I have a “new” picture of my grandmother? Below are the two pictures I have been comparing:

This was taken from her wedding photo:

AND

The above is an enlargement of the picture below:

Do you think these are the same woman?

Memory Monday: Treasures to Trash through the Generations

My grandfather and step-grandmother

TREASURES TO TRASH THROUGH THE GENERATIONS

My paternal grandfather lived in his house from the early 1910s until he moved into a nursing home in the late 1970s. There were so many “treasures” in that house, and I inherited three of them— the crystal stemware with matching plates, a bedroom suite, and a gold-upholstered chair. I used to stand next to the china cabinet at my grandparents’ house and make up stories about those dishes (with a family containing five small children, we never had crystal stemware). I was never allowed to open the cabinet and touch anything inside, but I loved it. After my step-grandmother passed away and my grandfather moved in with my parents, my grandfather gave me the crystal. The bedroom suite was always in my grandparents’ bedroom, although it was really the “everything” room since that was where everyone gathered to visit. Kitchen hairs were brought in so the adults had a place to sit while the children sat on the floor or played outside. The bed had tall, slender posts on the corners and all the grandkids swung on them. The dresser was one of those old-fashioned kind (as far as today goes) with the center lower than the drawers on the sides. It had three arched mirrors at the back—two of them hinged to the center one. After my grandfather passed away, my father said I could have that bedroom suite one day.  There was a wing-backed chair in the parlor of my grandparents’ house and my younger sister and I would take turns playing princess with that chair and the sit-down dresser in the front (guest) bedroom. It made for a lot of fun memories.

The years have moved on. The crystal is in its own special cabinet in my kitchen and I will hand it down to my daughter when she get a house. The bedroom suite stayed with my mother after my father died. When she passed, it came to me. My daughter has some memories of it in my mother’s house—she slept in it when she would spend the night there. She wants it for her daughter when she gets old enough to sleep in a full-size bed. That gold “princess” chair was willed to my older sister, but she didn’t care for it, so it stayed at my house. Neither one of my children want it, so I’m not sure what will happen to it after I’m gone.

The lesson I’ve learned from all this is that family “treasures” might only be treasures if there are memories connected to them. I can’t pass my memories to my children, so I can’t expect them to love the things I treasured. But that is only as it should be. They will create new memories and will treasure other things. Hopefully, the things they don’t want will become treasures to others who will create memories of their own and those things will become treasures again in another family.

Memory Monday: Just How Accurate Are Those Family Stories?

My daddy, his sister, and their cousin

JUST HOW ACCURATE ARE THOSE FAMILY STORIES?

As I was growing up, it was always an exciting time when we got to go to my mother’s parents’ home. There were often a lot of relatives since several of my mother’s siblings lived somewhat nearby. And then there were the times when one sister decided to come “home” and then one or more of the sisters would plan on coming at the same time. It was during these visits that I learned a lot of family history. Later, after I interviewed (and taped) these get-togethers with my mother, aunts, and grandmother. I am pretty sure the stories that I got were accurate—at least, as accurate as older women wanted to share.

Now stories from my father’s side of the family are a little sparse. One reason is my father had only one sibling—my mother had six. Another reason is my father’s sister lived far away and we hardly ever saw them. While we visited my dad’s parents, those visits were usually day trips. We would leave early Sunday morning, stop along the way and go to church, then get to my grandparents’ home in time for a late lunch. We hardly ever stayed the night. Usually, when we went we just played outside while the adults visited.

All that was said to explain why I don’t have a lot of stories of my father’s family. From a few things my dad had told me, I was able to piece together some of his side of the family. And thanks to Ancestry.com, I have also been able to learn more about that part of my family (and a bit more accurately). My sister told me that when she questioned my dad’s sister (our dad had already passed away when she needed this information for a college class) that she was told our grandfather had run away from home when he was eleven because his new step-mother was so mean. When I hear a story like that, I’m thinking he never went back home (and my aunt never said he returned). Well, when I looked at the census for when he was a little older, he is listed there living with his father and step-mother. He might have “run away” to his older brother’s house, which was only a few streets away, but he eventually came back home.

Another story I heard years and years ago, was that after my granddad married for the second time (my dad’s mother had died eight years before) was that my dad went to stay with his aunt (his mother’s sister) and her family during his last year in high school because she and her husband had lost a son the year before. I always thought the cousin who died was in his teens, like my dad—see the picture at the beginning of the article. I thought this was the cousin who had passed away. But today, I was to look at Ancestry.com to see if I could find just when this cousin passed away and what his name was. I got another surprise. While it is true that my aunt and her husband lost a son the year before my dad came to stay with them, the son that passed away died the same day he was born. I really think the reason that my father spent that year with his aunt’s family was he didn’t get along with his new step-mother—he called her “Madam” then and I never heard him call her anything but “Myrtle” as I grew up.

I think I need to spend more time on Ancestry.com. Maybe I will learn more about my dad’s family. I wonder what other stories that I’ve heard aren’t exactly true.

Memory Monday: Some of the Ways They Did Things Back Then

my grandmother with one of her children

SOME OF THE WAYS THEY DID THINGS BACK THEN

I was reading a book recently—Things Mother Used to Make, published in 1913. My grandmother, who was married in 1922, might have done some of these things. Here are a few items from that book that I found interesting—especially compared to the way we do things today:

To Save Confusion in the Home "Plan your work, then work your plan."

Monday—Wash, if you have it done in the house. If sent out, use that day for picking up and putting things in order, after the disorder of Sunday.

Tuesday—Iron.

Wednesday—Finish ironing and bake; wash kitchen floor.

Thursday, Friday—Sweep and dust, thoroughly.

Saturday—Bake, and prepare in every way possible, for the following day.

Homemade Shortening

Do not throw away small pieces of fat from pork, lamb or steak. Put them on the stove, in a skillet or agate dish and cook them till there is nothing left, but scraps. Then pare a potato, wash clean, cut into thin slices and cook in the fat for a half hour to clarify it. Strain through a cloth. This will be good to fry doughnuts in and for all purposes, where shortening is needed, except for pie crust.

Pieces of fat, not fit for shortening can be saved in some old utensil and made into kitchen soap.

Never Throw away Old Underclothes

Keep them for housecleaning, for washing windows and for washing lamp chimneys. Old pieces of calico or flannel make good holders to use about the stove. Wash, boil and dry cleaning cloths when soiled, that they may be ready for use again.

To Keep your Hands White

Keep a piece of lemon in your bathroom or kitchen. It will remove stains from the hands.

Save your Old Stockings

Old stockings are fine for cleaning the range. Slip your hand into the foot and rub hard, or place an old whisk broom inside. It will make the sides and front of the range clean and shiny. In fact, you will seldom need to use blacking on these parts.

To Remove Disagreeable Odors from the House

Sprinkle fresh ground coffee, on a shovel of hot coals, or burn sugar on the shovel. This is an old-fashioned disinfectant, still good.

To Lengthen the Life of a Broom

Your broom will last much longer and be made tough and pliable, by dipping for a minute or two, in a pail of boiling suds, once a week. A carpet will wear longer if swept with a broom treated in this way. Leave your broom bottom side up, or hang it.

To Soften Boots and Shoes

Rub them with kerosene. Shoes will last longer if rubbed over with drippings from roast lamb. Old-fashioned people always used mutton tallow on children's shoes.

Now aren’t these wonderful hints. Do you think you will use any of them? Really, aren’t you happy that you live today and not 100 years ago?

Memory Monday: Father's Day

My Son-in-Law and Granddaughter

FATHER’S DAY

I love the months of May and June because I love Mother’s Day and Father’s Day! I love the family get-togethers and dinners. And I love the presents, especially since I’m the mother now. What can I say—I love getting presents. But more than the presents (well, kinda), it is wonderful to see the next generation getting to share in the celebration—not as children honoring their parents, but as the ones being honored for the role they have taken on as parents. There is no way a child can understand the responsibilities (and worry, fear, joy, and hopes) of a mother or father until he or she becomes one. And only parents who see their children become parents can appreciate what their children are going through as they raise another generation (even though, the grandparents may wonder sometimes about what their children are thinking or doing).

This year is special with my granddaughter here now. I was privileged to share Mother’s Day with my daughter. In the same way, my husband will share Father’s Day with our son-in-law next week.

I want to say something to my father and father-in-law who have already passed on (as well as all the greats and grandfathers who came before them) as well as to my husband and son-in-law (and all those fathers who come after us): Thank you for the care you took to provide for your children, the examples you set, and the love you poured out on your families.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!!

Memory Monday: Two Unknowns in My Family History

My great-grandfather and his second wife

TWO UNKNOWNS IN MY FAMILY HISTORY

In the last few years, I have come to love working on my family’s genealogy. Both of my mother’s branches were from Mennonite backgrounds and there are many records to use. In the same manner, my father’s mother’s history is well-documented. I know where all three of these branches of my family came from, when they entered the United States, and thanks to US census records, I know where they lived, what their occupations were, and how many children they had and when/when they were born and died.

There is problem with my paternal grandfather’s family. I know what his name was, when he was born, and in what state. But that doesn’t narrow things down enough. There were a number of families in that state with the same last name and many of them named a son born about the same time with the same name. (GR-R-R). After following several of the different families in that state through the years, I was able to dismiss all but one. Several things point to this being the right family—the age for my great-grandfather’s birth is right, the states where his mother and father were born are correct, this man’s father and mother (although divorced some time before) both had moved to the county and state where my great-grandfather was married, and the man’s father later moved from Iowa to the same county in Texas were my grandfather was born. (Are you thoroughly confused so far?)

Now I have two problems with attaching this man as my great-grandfather’s father. The first is that on one—and only one, and that being when he lived in a boardinghouse— US census, this man is listed as having been born in Ireland. All the other censuses have him born in Georgia. The other problem is that on my great-grandfather’s death certificate, his father’s name is listed as “Isaac,” not “Michael” like the censuses I have been following. The information was listed by one of his sons, while the other son gave the information on their mother’s death certificate.  The second son listed their mother’s father’s name as “Isaac.” Were both of their grandfather’s names “Isaac” or was there a bit of confusion? After all, both of their parents died in their 70s, and their grandfathers had passed on decades before. Oh, well, I’ll just have to keep searching.

The other unknown is about my great-grandfather’s second wife—they are picture above. He and his first wife divorced in 1904 and he married again the next year—he was 53 and she was 26. Other than her name showing up on US censuses and city directories, I can fine no  other record of her—what her maiden name was, where she was born, if she had any other family, and what happened to her after my great-grandfather died after more than twenty years of marriage to her. It makes everything so incomplete.

Well, that’s two of the unknowns in my family. Do you have any of those kinds of unknowns in yours?

Memory Monday: The Next Two Generations of Cooks

(We don't have a lot of pictures of us. I'm usually behind the camera. - Daughter)

THE NEXT TWO GENERATIONS OF COOKS

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve shared recipes from my mother and mother-in-law. Now I want to share two of my recipes and a couple of my daughter’s as we celebrate her first Mother’s Day with her daughter. They are pictured above. (By the way, the coat my granddaughter is wearing was sewn by my mother for my daughter more than thirty years ago.)

My recipe is a variation of my mother-in-law’s Pineapple Upside-down Cake. Growing up, my mother’s recipe for this desert always used pineapple rings with a whole cherry in the center of each ring. She baked her cake in a round pan. My mother-in-law used crushed pineapple, chopped cherries, and pecans in a 9” x 13” pan. I can’t remember the exact proportions that she used so I made up my own recipe using the same ingredients that she used.

Here is my version of Pineapple Upside-down Cake. Also, I am adding a second recipe, which is my variation that I created for a cooking contest (I didn’t win, but it was sure fun making and sharing the tries until I came up with the perfect recipe.

PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN CAKE

1 stick of margarine or butter

1 lg can crushed pineapple, drained

1 cup brown sugar

1 jar of maraschino cherries, halved and drained

1 cup pecan halves

1 box of yellow cake mix with ingredients on package instructions

Combine 1^st five ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Pour into a 9x13" pan.

Prepare yellow cake mix, according to package direction.

Carefully spoon batter over hot pineapple mixture.

Bake at 350 for 40-50 minutes. When done, immediately invert onto serving tray.

PINEAPPLE RIGHT-SIDE-UP PIE WITH PRALINE TOPPING

Prep time: 15 minutes (Ready in 1 hour and 45 minutes)

Filling: 2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 cup brown sugar

¼ cup (½ stick) margarine

1 can (15 ¼ oz.) crushed pineapple, in its own juice

1 cup pecans pieces

1 (6 oz., approx. 25 cherries) jar maraschino cherries

Topping: 1 cup brown sugar

¼ cup (½ stick) margarine

1 cup pecans pieces

1 package (2 crusts) refrigerated piecrust

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. In a medium saucepan, mix cornstarch and 1 cup brown sugar. Add 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) margarine, pineapple, and 1 cup pecans; heat mixture over medium-high heat. Drain and cut the maraschino cherries in half and add to the mixture; stir frequently.

3. In a small non-stick saucepan, combine the remaining brown sugar, margarine, and pecans. Mix well and heat over medium heat, stirring frequently while preparing crusts.

4. Unwrap and line a 9” pie pan with one pie crust. Unwrap and score second piecrust.

5. Pour boiling pineapple mixture into the prepared pie shell. Place scored piecrust on top the hot mixture and crimp the edges of the pie crusts.

6. Pour nut mixture into the small saucepan on top of the pie, spreading out the nuts evenly.

7. Bake for 30 minutes or until the edges of the pie are lightly browned. Let the pie cool for 1 hour. Makes 10 servings.

Here are my daughter’s recipes:

FAUX STROGANOFF

1 bag of Amish noodles

2 cans of Amy's semi-condensed cream of mushroom soup

2 lbs ground beef

1/2 cup sour cream

Garlic, salt, pepper to taste

Parsley for garnishing

1. Brown meat with garlic, salt, and pepper. Drain after.

2. Boil noodles as per package directions

3. Mix cream of mushroom soup and meat, heat in a saucepan until warm.

4. Take meat sauce off the heat and add sour cream, mixing thoroughly.

5. Pour over prepared noodles.

6. Garnish with parsley.

Makes 8 servings.

SLOW COOKER CHICKEN RICE

3-4 boneless skinless chicken thighs

2-3 cans of Amy's semi-condensed cream of mushroom soup OR chicken stock

1-2 bunches of asparagus chopped into 1-2" pieces (exclude any really woody parts)

1 cup of uncooked rice

1. Place chicken and asparagus into the slow cooker with 2 cans of soup or stock. Cook on low for 6 hours.

2. Shred chicken with forks in the slow cooker.

3. Add rice to the slow cooker and turn up to high (20 minutes or to taste for white rice, 40 minutes or to taste for brown rice). Add extra soup or broth if needed.

Makes 4-6 large servings.

(Just a note, I, the daughter, am a very "by my gut" kind of cook, which is why my recipes are not terribly precise. I just go with what feels pretty right at the time and it almost always turns out okay. Except when I am baking. I am very precise with that.)

Well, over the last three weeks, I have shared the recipes of three generations. I can’t wait to see what the next generation’s favorite recipes will be. (A little added note: my grandmother-in-law, my mother-in-law, my daughter, and granddaughter all share the same middle name. Another little fun fact about our family across the generations.)

Memory Monday: How Something Was Used Differently Over Five Generations

My granddaughter and her "rocket"

HOW SOMETHING WAS USED DIFFERENTLY OVER FIVE GENERATIONS

Years and years ago, my grandparents had a front parlor with a fireplace that had been converted with a gas heating stove in it. On the side of the fireplace, there was a set of brass fireplace tools. Years later, I inherited those tools from my parents. We used them whenever we had a fire in our fireplace—my children would poke and prod the logs, but the tools haven’t been used for several years since we very, very seldom light a fire anymore.

My grandparents never watched cartoons and while I grew up with Looney Tunes and Popeye (you know “I’m strong to the finish ‘cause I eat my spinach”). My children grew up with Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. Lately, our granddaughter has started watching two animated shows—Little Einsteins (which has a rocket ship in it) and Wonder Pets (which has a boat with a flag, actually it is a mast, but my granddaughter calls it a flag).

The other day, she wanted to build a “rocket” with a flag. I got out a large cardboard tray—part of the packaging from when I ordered several large under-the-bed storage containers. My granddaughter “needed” a flag and something to hang it on. I stapled a couple of sheets of printer paper together but needed something to tape them to. When we got back to the tray, I saw our fireplace tools on the hearth. The holder would be perfect, so I took out the tools out of it and put it on the cardboard tray. My granddaughter loved it. She stood on it with her hands on either side of the holder and “flew” her rocket. Later, she sat and tried to use the fireplace shovel as an oar--we had to stop that since the edge of her oar was digging into our carpet.

As I watched my granddaughter play, I realized that the fireplace tool tools had been used by five generations. I wonder--will they be used by a sixth generation? Or a seventh? And what will they be used for?

Memory Monday: A New Generation in Our Family

A NEW GENERATION IN OUR FAMILY

The title of this blog is FAMILIES ACROSS THE GENERATIONS. Well, we have added a new generation—officially—to our family this week!!! I have mentioned her a few times in past blogs, but I could never show her face until she was officially ours.

The first picture below is one I posted on my second blog post. It is my great-grandmother and her family, including my grandmother. The second picture is my grandmother, my mother, me, and my daughter (and son). The picture above is our latest "three generations" picture—me, my daughter, and my newly-adopted granddaughter. That’s a total of six generations—six generations of love shared, six generations of memories made and passed on, six generations that take us from the past to the present and on to the future.

May God bless the generations who come after me as He has blessed those who came before.

Memory Monday: Repeating Dates

My Mother

INTERESTING HOW DATES KEEP REPEATING IN OUR FAMILY

My mother was born in January (many years ago). I never could remember which day of the month—the 30^th or the 31^st. When I said that to my mother one time, she said she was born on the same day as Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

That has gotten me to thinking how other dates seem to repeat for those in my family. My parents married on July 16^th—the same day of the month that my dad’s sister and her husband had married a couple of years before. And if you think they planned it that way, you would be wrong. My parents only knew each other for about six weeks when they decided to marry. On July 15^th, they (along with another couple who would act as witnesses) went to get married, but there was some problem (I don’t remember what it was not). They had to wait until the next day and they tried it again. This time the deed was done.

February 15^th is another date that is another special date in our family. On that day, my parents-in-law married, a niece was born, as was my granddaughter.

August 12^th is yet another date that is the birthday of two members of my family—my grandfather and my son.

Do any dates keep repeating in your family?

Memory Monday: A New Year's Poem

My Grandmother

A NEW YEAR’S POEM

I have used the picture of my grandmother before. The more I think about her, the more I wish that I had known her. She married in 1910, but didn’t have her first child until 1917 (my father). How she loved her son. When my dad talked about her, you could hear the love in his voice for her, even though she died when he was only nine years old. From what I know about her, she had a strong faith (as did her parents).

Recently, I came across a poem that was written before she was born. The poem is from a book titled Verses for Christmas and the New Year. And it was written in 1885, and since she was born in the early 1890s, her mother might have even read it to her.

NEW YEAR'S WISHES FOR THE CHILDREN.

Give yourself to Jesus, darling,

   While the Year is new;

Place your hand in His, and let Him

   Lead you safely through.

Then how blest the Year will be,

   Spent in Jesu's company!

I send my love to Someone,

   With wishes kind and true;

I pray to God for Someone,

   I know He hears me, too.

Now don't you guess, my darling,

   That Someone must be you?

I can imagine my grandmother holding my daddy in her lap, snuggling close to her longed-for child and reciting this to him. And that warms my heart.