Recycling Lights and Day 10

      Today’s Light of the World feature is to Highlight our hero on social media and just like last year (here) I think those who truly have Christ like attributes would NOT want to be showcased on social media.  Especially if they don’t see it in themselves.  Thus here is my post for day 10.

        Jenna had an assignment in which she was to write an essay answering different questions about a book character or a personal ancestor.  She chose the latter and we found an ancestor I knew I had stories for.  She needed more words than the three stories combined. As we couldn't answer all the questions accurately we fudged a bit on “what might have been” – it was quite a good essay, but not exact as we have no way of knowing if all the facts were actual – only that much of it was “based on truth”.

        When Jenna learned what Day 10 would be she excitedly asked if she could share her essay on facebook.  At first I told her that perhaps she shouldn’t as certain family members might take it as truth, but the more I thought about it I wondered how many would take the time to read it especially since "posting s story" seems more inviting to her than having to post it to the "wall".  

            I have many stories that I have shared throughout this blog. For the most part I have not posted them on facebook - mostly due to lenghth.  That’s too much information for facebook in my opinion.  And yet my brother would often write lengthy posts - especially during the time that his mother-in-law had COVID.  Those I would read - but sometimes would only scan.

        The experience that I am now sharing was from a different ancestor and another side than the one we used for Jenna. For facebook I will end up with only one paragraph that explains a journal but not much of a story line.  But I will share the story here and send a link to any of those that may be curious enough to want to read more:

        Just a brief history to hopefully make this easier to follow.  My great grandmother had four children.  Her only daughter married and had three children: my dad, his brother and his sister. Great grandma’s oldest son married and had six children (three boys and three girls).  The eldest of his children also had six children – five girls and a boy.  I will provide the names of four as I am about to mention the “story” and what unfolded as a result.

        My dad’s sister had four sons.  One I will refer to as Skyler. Dad’s cousin had the six children.  Her only son is Brett. He fits somewhat in the middle. The last time I remember seeing my second cousins was when Heidi was four to six years old.  I had forgotten that dad’s cousin had also given birth to twins after Heidi. I don’t believe Skyler knows about Brett or Heidi or any of the living relatives on that side.  But I could be wrong.  I don’t suppose it matters to the point of this story.

 

On March 29 this year was our second Sunday since the schools shut down and we were on a Stay-at-home order.  Skyler had shared a post about great grandma’s grandfather on a family facebook page.  He sent a Acrobatic link which included pages of Richard’s journal.  Richard is our 3^rd great grandfather. 

I did write a brief synopsis at receiving the journal (here) but did not mention what took place shortly after that. 

Brett has been active on ancestry and I thought he would be interested in Richard’s journal as well – though some of it is really hard to read.  At the time it did not appear that Brett had an account on facebook – though I have seen his name quite recently so must have created an account during the pandemic – I’m thinking in August.  I don’t know if he’s posted since then.

I am facebook friends with one of my dad’s cousins – Brett’s uncle, his mother’s brother.  I knew the names of three of his sisters but had no idea what their married names were and so went to their uncle’s account to see if I could possibly find them that way.  I saw that Heidi and I had two fb friends in common – her uncle and my daughter-in-law.  What?  How would my daughter-in-law know Heidi?  Turns out they had lived in an area that Heidi’s mom had grown up in and seemed to dislike.  I smile every time I think about her saying “Who wants to live in [place]” – and here she has at least two daughters living there.

 I messaged Heidi:

         “I understand that Randy and Carrie used to live in your ward.  I am Randy’s mother.  I am also your second cousin by way of your Grandpa J and my Grandma Helen.  I used to work with your mom at Snelgrove’s ice cream store.”

I mentioned that I’d been searching for her brother as I believed he might be the family historian and told her about Skyler sharing a piece of our 3^rd great grandpa’s journal and asked if they might have seen it.  Unfortunately I was unable to send the pfd. I asked Skyler if he could email it to her but do not know if Heidi was able to view it.  But I have shared other things with her – a photo of Randy and Carrie’s baby, a family photo of our grandparents, great grandparents, and her mom when she was three or four years old.  I also shared a photo I have shared on my blog before and our relationship with the Bird family (see here) 

          The point is I had made a connection with living relatives which to me is more important than lineage.  Not to take away from ancestry or those who thrive on it.  I have shared other discoveries on my blog as well as my lack of enthusiasm for family history in the past;  I do enjoy maintaining present and keeping records for posterity so they may hopefully have a better attitude toward genealogy than do I.

          Though I don't share the story of the ancestor himself,  I have briefly shared our lineage and the experience of connecting over social media.  I don't guess that's showcasing my ancestor - though he has become more than just a name to me. He evidently wrote some poetry in addition to his journal.  

not all the pages are this hard
to read but much of it is

Sidenote

For a year I believed that my youngest granddaughter, Liz, shared her birthday with my son Tony, who is her dad.  It wasn't until I wished a "happy birthday" to both her and Tony that I was corrected.  It's true that Rochelle had gone to the hospital on his birthday, but Liz did not arrive until after midnight making her birthday November 4th instead of the 3rd.

This year Rochelle has been carrying extra weight with our only grandson who was also due to make his appearance in November but decided to come a month to six weeks early.  They must have checked into the hospital late last night after Tony had called to wish Roland happy birthday.  Their baby arrived before 2:00 this morning.

Recap:  Roland was born on the 3rd.  Two of his children were born on the 3rd.  Daddy daughter combo born different months on the 3rd - in fact, he and Jenna are exactly 50 1/2 years apart.  (see here) Tony and his oldest daughter are both on the third.  All four in different months.  Tony's second daughter was born just after his birthday and now our only grandson (who does not yet have a name) was born the day after Roland's birthday.  How uncanny!

 I haven't shared the birth or this discovery on facebook as it is their place to be the first to share their news.  I don't know how many mutual friends we have that may read my blog.  If you don't see a post from them on fb, mum's the word.

I'll provide more info at a later time. 

Come Unto Christ – Wise Men Still Seek Him

I vaguely remember reading a story about a young boy who had the honor of traveling with his father to see the Christ child – or perhaps it was that he wanted to go, but was too young to make the journey.  I don’t remember when or where I read it.  I hadn’t thought about it until yesterday when Kristen gave this years first lesson in Relief Society.  Such a beautiful lesson.  I don’t know why I had never connected the dots before.

Kristin started out her letter with a video portraying the wise men who had traveled for over two years before they reached the Christ child – who was a child and not an infant resting in a manger.  I remembered being told that “they found him in a house” but had never really considered the long journey they had made.  I had forgotten how I had read about the anticipation and excitement and the long wait.

We read from the Bible Dictionary and Matthew 2.  We looked up the words Magi and Three Kings and talked briefly about Epiphany and Three Kings Day and what each of the gifts mean. Kristin pointed out their journey with following the star to our own personal journeys in seeking out Christ and following His teachings.  I don’t remember feeling so touched and awed by a lesson such as I was yesterday.  It was awesome!

Learning Geography part 2: South America and Flags

Jenna and I have played “Crazy Countries” a game much like Crazy 8  Of course the Africa continent deck has a lot more cards than say Oceania or South America deck and so we of course don’t play with all of the cards.  We’re not learning countries so much as continents – for I have told Jenna that whenever we use a wild card to change suit, we have to say by continent rather than color.

I took Spanish in 9^th and 10^th grade.  In my first year, part of our lessons included studying  the countries in South America.  We were also assigned pen pals to correspond with in hopes that it would help us learn our Spanish and assist our pen pal with his or her English.

The map of South America looks the same way I remember it looking in 1975.  It looks the same way today.  And I am impressed by the stableness of the boundaries.  It makes geography so much easier to learn (and share).

 

After playing “Crazy Countries” (the only game we have played thus far) I thought I would impress Jenna with my knowledge of what countries fit where.  I got half right, and although I remembered all the names (except for Suriname) , I wasn’t able to match them to their appropriate shape until she showed me the flags.  Not that I remember learning the flags.  It was through a different source that I thought I might have enough  material for another post although I would like to just tack it onto what I started yesterday.

My ability to recognize flags did not come from geography.  It actually came from the Mahjong tiles found on the Internet.  I wanted to know what flags belonged to what countries, which led me to the cards, which led me to an imaging index (as I could not find four of the flags among the cards; and I also learned that some of the flags were out of date) 

Even though Czechoslovakia had changed its name to Czech and Slovak Federal Republic  the flag on the card still remained the same as when the card was first printed. Somehow I allowed myself to obsess over knowing all of the flags I could find.  I don’t even know how long ago.  I have since moved on to other things and probably couldn’t even make a proper guess with just a forth of them. (I don’t know how many countries I came across that I had never heard of before this obsession)

 

 

You know what fascinates me the most?  Places like Egypt and Rome that have been around since the old testament seem solid somehow and then there are surrounding countries that can’t seem to settle.   I love the consistency that I have explored with South America – though I have questioned this map:

 

 

 

 

Is that an upcoming proposal?   or is the map purely bogus?

Old Newspaper Clippings and Other Saved Items

          Mom kept boxes filled with treasures from each of her children.  Treasures.  That’s really a matter of opinion.  I find it amazing that the pages of my baby book are still intact and of great quality paper compared to many I have filled on my own.  But I still scanned the pages – saving a bit for Jenna but still discarding a lot.

School work done on ditto paper.  Remember those?  Before Xerox and other photo copiers.  Purple carbon paper and ink

  

All daily assignments and homework in purple outline – never black

I kept some of my drawings out for Jenna to look at.  The majority I’ve thrown away.  And I’m proud to say that she has also. 

I had made a calendar for my Uncle and his family who were living in Denver at the time.  I don’t believe my mom ever mailed it as it was in my box – but as I pulled it apart, I completely understand why my mom would not have wanted to bother.

How pathetic.

I also found a piece of newspaper dated June 1969.  I went through the page three times, but could not find any significance or reasoning to why the page had been saved.

Lots of advertisement and laughable styles and prices in today’s eye:

      

I do remember birth announcements and weddings – but engagements?  That’s bizarre.  Perhaps mom knew one of these women?  She may have then – but I’m certain she has no clue at present.

I have noticed that my scanner has made the newspaper look more aged than the actual paper.

I was serving in Roanoke during the flood of November 1985.  It’s still quite surreal to me that I was there and saw the damage but not the flood itself as my comp and I were ordered to stay put in our apartment in a house upon a hill

A lot of things can be found on the Internet now.  I don’t have to save the map of Lake Ridge Mall as it is on the Internet.  I don’t have to save brochures that tell me about old and new Cape Henry.  They can be found online.

Not all my faded pictures of Mabry Mill and Philpot can be found – as my comps and I were in several of them.  But they are so distorted – I don’t think they are worth the repair. But the scenery itself can be found online – though I did have to scan this one.  I took it because it made me laugh – and now it can make others laugh as well

I’ve actually gone through everything that I had left with mom three years ago.  But there is more in the shed.  A lot more.  I think it grew. It’s probably growing right now. It’s overflowing – like a vine.  I’m almost afraid to tackle.

I must have saved every thought, every hand out in Relief Society and Young Women’s.  I saved ticket stubs and wedding napkins and announcements – photos of people I no longer remember.

One of the hardest memories to look at was a wedding announcement of a friend close to me like a brother and his wife.  So happy.  So young.  So in love.  That’s how it reads in the photo anyway.

The caption under the photo reads “Today, Tomorrow and Always” - always what? Living a hell maybe, because the love died a long time ago from what I understand.  Today, Tomorrow and Always?  That is what I thought of all my memorabilia.  Fortunately “always” will be a myth in the scrap saving department for me.

So I have divorced much of my memorabilia.  Not quite as upsetting as the many marriages that have fallen apart. It is their children who suffer the most, I think.  Although in this case it’s been an equally great hardship on them all.  Perhaps the youngest and then my friend and his wife who may never get better – one cannot be cured if always in denial.

I’ve thrown away tons of cards.  Some I kept for the pictures.  Some because they don’t seem to make those old-fashion kind of cards anymore.  But I just don’t have the room.  No sense in scanning those.  Most of the pictures that I’ve shared have been “borrowed” from the Internet – and I’m certain I will continue to borrow more.  I don’t need to scan pictures that I can find on the Internet.  I want the personal ones – not the generic card pictures that are nice – but really. I don’t need to hang onto them.  I really don’t.

I’m grateful that I am able to let go and that modern technology has allowed me to compact those things that I would like to save.  Thank you to all of those who have assisted with the many programs and drives available to all of us.

Introduction: Beneath the Wraps

          I had once heard a story of a racist who was sent to a burn center for her condition.  Life had dealt her a bum deal.  She was in constant pain. She was bitter. And she made it no secret about how she felt.  She quickly gained a reputation in the burn center because of her ill mannered behavior.

          All the patients wore bandages – some more than others...  They were all burn victims.  None was able to escape his or her circumstances due to race, religion, or possession of money. They all had to be treated.

In time this women was befriended by another patient who was certainly in far worse shape than she – he looked like a mummy as he appeared to be covered with bandages from head to toe.  And yet he had such a great outlook on life.  He taught her how to cope, to listen, and to live.  She enjoyed their visits together and would look forward to the next time they would talk. She had developed a love for her new friend. Perhaps she saw him as a father figure.

          After a few months the man’s bandages were removed. It wasn’t until then that the woman realized that the man was a different race than she.  She was confused.  All of her life she had been taught to hate, or fear, or resist or whatever – for whatever reason.  And yet this man had been so kind to her.  He had taught her.  He had been her friend.  Would she really give all that up just because she was a racist?

So often we refuse to listen to the thoughts or ideas of another because his or her beliefs are not the same as our own.  So often we place judgments upon appearance.  So often we assume that an individual is represented by his or her entire race or even a name and therefore must possess certain character trait. 

          A name? Really?  Have we become such a petty society that we would actually treat another differently based upon his or her name? How many people choose their names?  Honestly?  Oh, there’re a small handful that have their names legally changed for whatever reason – but most everybody I know did not pick out the name he or she was given – either first or last.

          Nicknames are different.  They are earned playfully or maliciously based upon one character trait or a piece of personality – but nicknames still do not define a person’s entire being.  And being related to an individual might account for some personality attributes – but being related does not take away from one’s individualism.

I often enjoy reading the introduction to different Blogs – why the title of the Blog is so named and how it relates to the Blogger.  My Blogger name comes from the story that I just shared. At this point I don’t want just anybody looking at it.  I don’t want to invite the entire public – but I don’t necessarily want to make it a secret either. 

 My brother has an anonymous blog.  It’s quite profound and well written.  There is actually a large handful of people who are aware of his real identity. A neighbor had read some of his posts and had asked my mom, “Does Corey have a Blog?”  Not that my mom was the right person to question – as she didn’t even know what a Blog was.  Mom is the one who told me about Corey’s Blog – which in turn introduced me into the Blogging world.

I notice the Blogs that I seem to enjoy most have started out as a therapeutic method for the Blogger – at least in Corey’s case it did. After a couple of years he came to terms that made him feel that he didn’t need to Blog anymore – but he gained many followers in the meantime who weren’t anxious about seeing Corey take flight.  He’s part of a support group.  They need to read his words.  I need to read them.  He is so good at explaining things and has such an awesome gift with words, it would be a shame to all of us if the Blog were to go away.

I am not near as gifted with words – though I have had many people advice me to start my own blog because “I could really help people”. I suppose that each of us is titled to his or her own opinion. Perhaps some posts may be profound – others may not have meaning – just opinions.  My opinion.  And some will be written for my own therapeutic needs. So there you go. 

I don’t have permission from anybody to use his or her real name in my Blog – though I don’t guess many of them would care either way.  It’s not that I’m trying to keep my Blog a secret.  In actuality I would like to be discovered.  But I want to introduce myself and my subjects subtly – and there may be some who will figure me out and many more that will never know even when and if my identity is revealed.

I actually have a rather common name – too common.  But for the sake of my Blog I will be known as LaTiesha Cannon – no particular reason.  I just like the sound. My husband is Roland and our daughter is Jenna.  All other associations will be introduced as I go.  Have fun with it or ignore it completely. But please be respectful.  Thanks.