Changing of the Guards

                I love our new bishop.  LOVE Him.  No, it is not my husband – but they are the same age.  Mike is a mechanic who used to have a business downtown, but retired.  He is the nicest man.  He’s the father of eight.  Four were at the ward today.  Three are inactive.  It was great to see the support.

               I thought that the Elders Quorum would be released and announced, but that was not the case.  Our former bishop was advanced to a high counsel position.  Hmm.  My husband is now ward clerk – the only position I ever remember my dad having served.  Guess we will be taking two cars to church from now on.

Christmas Present for the Ward

          Our ward has seemed to dwindle in attendance since we first moved in.  Some have left our ward due to moving out of the area or moving on to the other side.  We’ve had some move in – but where is the activity?  It has always been an older ward; the daytime activities seem more well attended than night time.

           The activities committee had set up and decorated Thursday morning to afternoon.  It was beautiful.  A lot of work went into it.  They had set up an overflow room.  But as it was not all the tables filled up.  I don’t know why.  Last year we seemed to have had people coming out of the woodwork.  I felt smooshed as though there was no elbow room. 

           This year they had planned for 125 people.  I think there may have been sixty people.  Maybe.  Lot of food.  An announcement will be made tomorrow.  Changes we’re not supposed to talk about.  Speculations on my part.  I do know who the new ward clerk is going to be.  Many will be called and set apart tomorrow.  I know I’m not supposed to say anything – but I don’t think anybody from my ward reads my blog – especially on Saturday.  Why would they read the very day I post it.  And after tomorrow they will already know.

           Young Women and Relief Society will remain the same.

Better than 2022 but still not high on the list

              And so the traditions continue . . . .

         I feel the same as I did just two years ago – when we postponed Thanksgiving because all of us were sick – except Jaime.  But this year it’s only me – unless Jaime has a sinus infection.  She says her jaw hurts and Roland threw out his back.  We did have Thanksgiving.  There were seven of us. 

         I had invited my friend Carolyn when I thought it was just us.  But Richard wanted to invite Biff and his two. He also invited a member from our ward who will be going through a divorce and is having a hard time with it.

         I did not play games with them but opted to do dishes instead.  Found homes for all the leftover food.  My head is throbbing currently.  That is new.  This morning it was just a sore throat.  Dang

Gene-Fam-al-His-ogy-

             Our ward had an activity on Saturday.  I was asked to give a spiritual thought in relation to said activity – which was on family history.  I thought I would just give a quick and short thought about why we have family history and sought inspiration.  I listened to a conference talk given by Elder Nelson (now president) had given in 1994 which mentioned “genealogy” being replaced with “family history” which for me opened a whole new floodgate of questions.  

Curiosity got the better of me and I researched dates and information related specifically to downtown Salt Lake. By the time I had finished my research I had enough information for a talk though unless specifically assigned the family history topic it is not a talk that I’ll ever give from the pulpit. 

So my thought was:

“Genealogical Society of Utah started exactly 130 years and 3 days ago.  So what is the difference between Genealogy and Family History.  I would love to give you the reference but this quote came up as an IA overview, but I thought it was such a good quote I thought I would share it.

“Genealogy is the “bones” of a family tree and family history is the “flesh” that brings it to life.”  

I concluded with another quote:

President Spencer W. Kimball taught that “our great part in this aspect of missionary work is to perform on this earth the ordinances required for those who accept the gospel over there.”

I did not share any dates or discoveries that I had made as I researched the history specifically of the family history library located in Salt Lake.  

 According to Russell M. Nelson (GC Oct 1994, who at the time was an elder and not prophet, seer and revelator) the Genealogical Society was organized on November 13, 1894.  I remember going to the church office building where the Genealogical Society was on an upper floor.  I don’t know that it was really open to the public per se – I was always with a group and had assumed prior arrangements had been made. 

I remember searching through large books with legal documents containing family group sheets and either copying the information by hand or most likely using the copy machines and adding said information to my very own Book of Remembrance.  How grateful I am that the legal paper is a thing of the past. 

 Apparently the family history thing (then tacked with the name genealogy) became a hot item during the 70’s thanks in part to Alex Haley.  The Genealogy Library in Salt Lake was not built until October 1985. The name was changed to the Family History Library almost two years later in August 1987.  For a good while there people came to Utah to use the Family History Library, my aunt being one of them.  She would sleep in the extra bed we had, leave in the morning, spend the entire day downtown, and return at night to sleep.

On January 10 last year the name was changed to FamilySearch library to accompany the online source which is available world wide.  How blessed we are to literally have so much information at our fingertips and do not have the expense of traveling to one destination or back and forth to several. 

 The children’s songbook was initially published in 1989.  On page 94 is the song “Genealogy – I Am Doing It” also changed to “Family History– I Am Doing It”.  I remember hand writing the new words but cannot find the book I used.  The second verse is the same but the first us different – except for “progenitors” (that’s a big word for primary kids) I like the flow of the “Family History” lyrics as opposed to the “Genealogy” ones.

 

Geneology – I am doing it, my geneology

                  Fam’ly history—I am doing it, My fam’ly history.

And the reasons why I am doing it

                  And the love I feel when I’m doing it

Are very clear to me

                  Is very sweet to me.

I will keep my book of rememberence;

I learn stories of my progenitors;

I’ll write my history.

I write their history.

It’s a record of my family

I keep records of my loved ones

My geneology

On my own fam’ly tree.

Ignorance

 

I am absolutely floored by 

the amount of ignorance that 

exists in this country.  

Making Trump a president was 

NEVER a good idea.  

But now – 

KNOWING he’s a felon – 

impeached twice but never prosecuted.  

Why not?  

What is wrong with us?  

Richard thinks he will die in office.  

I wonder if it will be natural causes or 

if he gets assassinated.  

Probably by an ignorant fan who 

had voted for him.  

I hope when Vance is running the country 

he will show us common sense that 

seems to have been lacking for 

the last 5 or so years.

A New Perspective

               The ward had announced the upcoming primary program – which was held today.  I had a much better attitude towards it this year than in years past.  I looked for the joy as the upcoming lesson for Relief Society was taken from Elder Kearon’s talk (here) 

And reminisced of past posts here and here

                I truly did experience joy.

DL Trial and Persistence

 

        I don't know what it is like in other states or if COVID is to blame for the system or what have you - but just being able to land a test driving appointment is no small feat.  A person has to visit the site not only daily but multiple times throughout the day - hourly if possible.  Jaime started her search in June or July and finally landed an appointment with the Roseburg DMV on September 9th but continued her search until something opened up in Canyonville.  September 10.  Had we known then what we know now we would have just kept both.

We arrived a half an hour early to appointment.  The room was the busiest I have ever seen it. She wasn’t able to check in until 15 minutes prior to the appointment time.  We had proof of insurance but no expiration date.  She was dismissed and could not take the test.

We were given information for third party testing – which she did in Roseburg.  The instructor had her turn onto a one way street – which she has never done before.  She made the turn for the furthest lane over and was failed.  She didn’t know.

She was gracious about it afterward saying it was probably a blessing that she hadn’t been tested in Canyonville and had to learn about the one ways as Ashland is full of them and she would like Ashland to be a regular destination.

Meanwhile I checked DMV on a daily basis and signed her up for multiples.  Her first appointment was in Roseburg – their waiting room was a far cry from Canyonville – more empty seats – no waiting at all.  They took her before the allotted check in time.  She was told she ran a red light which she says she did not do.  Next appointment: Grants Pass. 

Grants Pass is what I consider the halfway mark between here and Medford Temple.  The drive was between 40 and 60 minutes.  When we arrived there was a line outside the doors.  Everyone was being turned away due to the servers being down.  The biggest problem – Jaime didn’t even want her license.  Why all this hassle for something she doesn’t even want?

The last test she took was in Roseburg.  Meanwhile I had booked four more appointments – three in December.  Thankfully she passed at her last appointment (third party taken Oct 7) and in an unfamiliar car. Another from the friend group received his the following day.  She thought she would be the last of her friends to get her license but had him beat by 25 hours. 

Yesterday she took her first long drive by herself.  She went to Medford to meet a group of friends and drove herself home after the activity.  I am so happy for her and pleased with her decisions.  She really is an awesome human being!

Teacher’s Training

           When I was in primary I remember a class that was given to the instructors once a month – at least it seemed it was once a month and somewhere along the line that changed to once a quarter.  I loved that class.  I wish it had been better attended.  I guess some classes were well attended.  The ones I had attended were not.  I guess that’s why it dwindled.  A couple of years ago the class was offered on a Saturday morning with breakfast as an insentive.  One of these classes was offered the last Saturday in September.

          Our second counselor drives 45 minutes from Tiller.  He walked in a few minutes late and was wearing sports shorts and a baseball cap.  I wasn’t offended in any way, but thought it odd.  He then got up to teach and told us to grab some doughnuts and he would return in just a few.  When he returned he was dressed as he normally is on Sunday and introduced the lesson with “dressing for the role to be taken seriously” . . . he then asked a few of us about our garden, job, week, etc.  and proceeded to give a really great lesson.  Reminders to come prepared and have a backup just in case.

          On Sunday I was on my way to church and accepted an assignment to teach a primary class.  I looked over the lesson about ten minutes before hand and adapted some of the things I had learned the morning prior.  It went well for me.  I still don’t miss being in primary.  I do enjoy being in Relief Society.

Memories Through the Grief

 

unfortunately somewhat of a short post.  unfortunate because of lack of contact.

 

               Before starting my senior year in high school I had gone to San Francisco to visit my Grandma Mary.  Uncle Bruce picked me up at the airport.  I hadn’t seen him for quite some time and wasn’t even certain that it was him.  I got in the car with him anyway.

         I remember spending one day with his wife and son.  They had two cats.  I remember Joe had used two different methods of discipline one for each cat.  I also remember holding him when he was a baby.

         When Jaime was two or three she received a child sleeping bag from one of the neighbors.  Bruce was visiting my mom and I happened to have the sleeping bag in the car.  I was having problems rolling it up and asked Bruce if he could show me as I knew he was an experienced camper.  Jaime unrolled the bed at least twice while he was there.  I think she thought it was a game.

         I remember my other uncle having an upright piano in his house.  It had been painted bright orange.

         I remember having listened to his record collection without realizing that it was his. He had served as a police officer and said the mission district was his least favorite.  I remember Grandma having put me on the train at the mission underground.  I got off at a station above ground.  I remember meeting my uncle at the transport system in Lafayette. I spent a Sunday with the family.  I do not recall our interaction with one another.

        When my uncle returned me to the train station in Lafayette he gave me specific instructions not to go upstairs once I arrived at the mission but to wait for grandma to come and get me.  I related this to my mom after my trip was over.  My smiled at the thought on how I was to wait underground for a little old lady to come and save me.

         I met my cousin’s wife when we had gone to Salem for a convention.  Our visit with them was an hour or so.  Same with the convention. Richard, Jaime and I were the only non-staff who attended.  We won the two door prizes that were offered.  They had tons of food and told us to take as much as we wanted.  I called my cousin and his wife and gave the address and told them to bring containers.  They did not come. And we had a three hour drive so we didn’t take any food. What a waste.

         My mom seemed to be close with each of her brothers.  I do not believe they were close to each other.

A sense of grief

 

               I have twelve cousins – eight on my dad’s side and four on my mom’s.  My parents are each the eldest in their families.  Dad has a brother two years younger and baby sister (they are about twelve years apart).  My mom has two brothers.  All of my dad’s family lived in the Salt Lake area except for the few years that my Uncle and Aunt lived in Denver for a couple of years – that could be a different post and was several decades in the past.

         My mom’s family lived in different parts of northern California.  My mom’s first brother and his wife had three children – a boy and two girls.  The youngest brother and his wife had adopted a boy.  We had visited our cousins on occasion but didn’t know much about them beyond their names. And even with that one I am not certain of his given name.  I had thought it was Joshua and they changed it to Josiah.  He went by Joe so I am not sure what is was. I am five years older than the oldest of my cousins on my mom’s side.  None of us are close.

         The eldest cousin lives in Oregon.  Richard, Jaime and I have visited him and his wife five or six years ago.  That was it.  Our only visit with him as an adult and probably only three when we were in our youth.  I’ve had contact with his youngest sister on facebook but nothing recent – until yesterday.

         My mom and her first brother passed away the same year.  My uncle's children had given us updates about his health. He died shortly after mom had moved into assisted living.  Their youngest brother had come to see mom a few weeks after he passed. She passed four months after he did.

         And yesterday  both of my brothers recived phone messages from San Mateo welfare system – one viewed it as a scam but the other one answered.  The call was to inform them of the passing of our uncle (the youngest of mom's brothers; the one who had visited before mom passed) and as his son (Joe) had passed the year prior. The posterity of his siblings would be the sole heirs of his estate.  Say what?  Steven sent out a text message to us and asked if any of us knew how to get a hold of our cousins.

         I messaged the two who are on facebook.  I felt like a heel not knowing their lives or what their position is toward our late uncle but informing them that not only has he passed but that it has been requested that someone from family assist in matters.  I included the eldest of my cousin’s wife in the conversation as she is on facebook and though my cousin has an account is not on often it at all.  He is in his final stages with Huntington’s and will probably be gone by next year (according to his wife). I have learned of three deaths have happened (or will happen) within the matter of minutes. 

         There were tears in my eyes – for Uncle Bruce was a loner and died alone.  I have no idea when or how Joe passed.  I’m not even close to these people though I do have memories.  Only a few memories.  It was a hodgepodge combination of emotions brought to the surface.  My vision made the messages received blurry.  I was involved in a text conversation with my brothers relating messages I’d received from messenger from my cousins – trying to correct what I’d transcribed before sending it.  I was an emotional wreck. I wish I knew better than I do.

3 anniversarys: fantastic, melancholy and tragic

                My brother no longer posts to his blog but has left MANY detailed posts on his facebook page.  Yesterday was a tribute to mom and some to himself for the grief of her loss.  He said he’d almost forgotten that it was 13 years ago yesterday.  His final note (after providing a detailed account of her final stages of life) was “hearts and wounds heal with time and that life continues moving forward”.

          Am I a terrible person for forgetting when she died?  She passed the day after Richard and I celebrated our 12^th wedding anniversary.  We were married two days prior to the bombing of the twin towers in New York – a day when our nation seemed to pull together to show their support.  A time when Rudy Giuliani cared about his city and seemed to be loved and respected.

          Having mom pass was disheartening, but I don’t think as disheartening as having her forget.  Having her mind in a different world apart from our own reality.  I remember that first week after we had checked her in. I remember watching a health-care worker spoon feeding one of the residents – the way one would a toddler in a high chair.  I was saddened by the sight thinking my mom would be in that position one day.  But she wasn’t.  She passed before going through all the stages.  I was glad of that.  I was happy to not have to see her being spoon fed.  I wasn’t happy that she had passed – but we had all lost her long before then.  Dementia had robbed us all.

          Three anniversaries in a row.  A great one for me and Richard.  A mixed-emotion one for my family.  A devastating one for the nation – though we do have a few positive results – the overall reasoning is just so heartbreaking. 

Restoring Legacies and Treasures

 

Richard and I will often watch BBC’s “The Repair Shop” (here) in which patrons bring their time worn heirlooms to be restored to another time.  It’s great to see so many attached to sentiments in our throw-it-out/replace/upgrade it society.  I don’t recall having any family heirlooms.

My mom had been raised in poorer circumstances with many relics that may not have been considered antiques at the time – certainly not of value either financially or sentimentally.  We threw things away and replaced them – though I remember my brother and I both hoarding “stuff” as sentiments.  Perhaps even now.  But nothing worth restoring . . . I don’t think.

I do have a set of scriptures that belonged to my mother.  The binding on the triple combination is torn in places and many of the pages have definitely seen better days.  But it is a treasure because I see where she has marked certain scriptures and written in the margin.  That for me is a treasure – something I would definitely have restored if I lived in England and could travel to the repair shop more easily than now.

The most interesting thing I think I have seen is a coconut scraper (which I had never even heard of before, but does make sense; just something the average person wouldn’t encounter or have need for) and the most touching has been with the restoration of a painting that survived war.  You can read about (and see the workmanship involved) here for one.  There are others if you would like to research it more.

Thank you to those who have the skills to make the restorations possible and for those who choose to have their legacy live on in these items.  I love to hear their stories.  And I love watching the shared talent of others.