If you don't believe in ghosts, you've never been to a family reunion. ~Ashleigh Brilliant

I come from a very close knit family. My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and sister were always within a short drive. Many holidays were spent with large groups of extended family from summer picnics to Christmas Eve dinners. I have passed this on to my own children and attempt to keep the family tight for them

However, after losing my maternal grandmother while in her forties, very near the age I am now. And also the loss of my paternal Grandfather who committed suicide in his fifties and before I entered this world, leaves empty emotions and questions about those relatives I barely knew.

As I get older and my children are turning into adults themselves, I've become more curious about the past I know little about. I am the youngest child of two and don't remember a lot of the things my sister is old enough to remember. Both of my parents have wonderful memories in grand detail.

It is rare that we are out with my mother, sometimes in cities far from home when my mother doesn't see someone she knows. Is it because she knows a lot of people? Perhaps, she is a very sweet socialite. Or is it that she just remembers better? When our memories do not grasp the past as well as we would like, do we walk right past those we know from our past not realizing? I believe there is some truth to that. My mother seems to be in tune with those from her past.

I find myself asking my parents a lot more about the past. I find myself more curious about where I came from. I lost my paternal grandmother when I was still young. Pregnant with my second child at her funeral I was just 20. Busy with my life as a new bride, husband overseas serving in Desert Storm. I had plenty going on and way too young to care or take the time to ask about my grandmothers youth. And now I wish I had.

My grandparents and my parents are luckily slight hoarders. They don't like to throw away memories. And I love them for it. Between my mothers mothers hope chest full of memories, my dads moms hope chest and so many other boxes filled with pictures and letters encapsulating the past. I have much to learn.

A few years ago my parents moved from the house of my youth. We cleared, packed, sorted, and moved 20+ years worth of stuff. In the back recesses of their basement were boxes from my grandmothers house. Old memories perhaps too packed with emotion to be sorted at the time of her death.

In one of the boxes, hidden buried in some old dance cards, photographs and report cards were two small leather bound treasures. One a tiny ring binder no larger than a wallet, my grandfathers journal. The other a small leather diary complete with locking clasp. My grandmothers journal.

I have read them once before, just after my parents move. Each ends with a proposal and a marriage. The coming together of my own paternal grandparents. A glimpse into their dating and falling in love.

On our last trip south to drop off my youngest at school, I picked up the journals once again from my dad. I am reading them again. I am recording them into digital format so that I may share with other family more easily. I also found some old letters. A small glimpse into my own fathers youth.

I am more and more curious. I hope to get a lot of information in the near future. While it is still available.
I live in a Genealogically rich state. There is access to research already completed for me. But there is more to family than dates of birth or death. There is more to my heritage than who we came from but who those people WERE that we came from.
I hope I can answer some questions and discover more about those who came before me.
I am excited to live a little in the past, learn from it and pass it on to my own children.

Welcome home son.

My son is on an airplane right now. He is headed home. It comes as such a relief to me.

He left last year, just before his twentieth birthday across the world to the hot deserts of Iraq.

This month he will turn 21. A true Adult. And he will be on US soil.

I wont get to see him, and hold him, and thank him and congratulate him as he will be still three states away.

But he will be safe. He will once again be under the safety of Uncle Sam's embrace. That safety that he has been fighting for.

If you see a soldier today. Thank him.

If his name badge says Green hug him.

Memorial Weekend

Growing up as a kid in Utah, Memorial weekend is the emergence of spring, the launch of the summer months, the end of the school year and families are on the move.

The highways are overcrowded as trailers, campers, Motor homes and boats head for the mountains, lakes and dunes to soak up the sun.
Stores cannot keep the picnic supplies stocked, campgrounds are full, and the docks of the lakes are bursting.
It is family time to be sure.

I remember many a memorial day Sunday taking flowers to the graves of lost family members, the beautiful colors covering the green lawns. A tradition I share with my own kids.









But after I was married many years ago, memorial took on a new meaning.
My second child and first daughter was just under one month old when her father saw her for the first time. He had been stationed in Germany for most of the pregnancy fighting for our freedoms in Desert Storm. Being a military wife is difficult i know first hand.


Not only financially and stressfully, but being without the one you love can be really trying. Women married to men who work long hours or travel often for business know how hard it can be juggling a family single handedly. Add to that the fear of the danger that so many enlisted are in. It is tough to explain to your young children why their parent has to go away and many times, you don't know for how long.

I cannot imagine the pain of explaining those who have given the ultimate sacrifice to their children.
My husband was only deployed for five months. We have been divorced for nearly thirteen years and he has not been active in nearly twenty but I feel for those who live with it everyday.

And now, I am a military mother. I have to say, I think it is even harder. No one wants to see their children hurt, or in danger. To me he is still a little boy. The one I made a commitment to protect. And now, he protects not only me but many many people given the low card in life. Many people torn from their homes and safety by dictators who should be protecting them. And many more who live in freedom every day. Many people who don't support or understand the sacrifices and the reasons.





I would like to dedicate this post to my ex husband, my son, and all of the thousands of enlisted men and women who fight in the trenches and deserts for me every single day.
And a second shout out to the many other men and women making sacrifices for our freedoms, safety and luxuries without a second thought.

Nurses, Doctors, Police officers, Fire fighters, miners, oil riggers, the list can go on forever. I appreciate you all. Be safe. You are all hero's.

Easter Sunday

Easter was a nice relaxing day this year. Absolutely a beautiful day!

The girls will be home all week this week on spring break, and my parents and sister are coming to town at the end of the week it will be nice.
Sunday morning we cooked up a ham, some potato salad, and asparagus for a late breakfast, brunch. After eating we watched Mama Mia.

I had just watched it the night before but I loved it and the girls had not seen it yet. What a great mom- daughter flick to watch!

The weather was pretty warm, a bit windy, and we were stir crazy. We decided to go to the park and stretch out our limbs. We had a kite that had not been used already in the house and packed it in the car with us.

It was a perfect day to fly a kite. We ended up making a quick trip to the store to pick up two more box kites. It was relaxing and refreshing to fly kites.

There were three small kids at the park, attempting to fly a small battered kite together while their father played in a softball game nearby.

Although we offered to let them fly our kites, they most wanted to

fly their own. We were able to get theirs into the air for a while too. So much fun.

The day had a bittersweet ending as we were packing up to leave the park and I received a call from my son, who is stationed in Kansas for military training. He had bad news. It seems he will be heading to California for a month of training, then he will get to come home again for a short visit. But then, he is being deployed, this September to Iraq. It was a punch to the gut! I never thought I would celebrate my 40th birthday sending my only son into a war zone. It is my worst fear coming true.
I am as proud of him as I can be, and scared to death!

All I can do is to pray that he will be safe, that Obama will get us out of there, and that this all turns out well. Until then, I will be a nervous wreck.

I am ready! Bring on the good news, isn't it about time? Seriously!

Veteran's day

When you sign the papers to allow your 17 year old son to serve, this day takes on a whole new meaning.

Never forget!

If you love your country and your Freedom- Thank a Veteran.

Last August (2007) we (my daughters and I ) drove to Kentucky to pick my son up from his basic training. Here is a picture of me signing him out to come home. This picture was taken on his 17th birthday. Not even considered a man by age, but so much more in integrity.

People ask me how I can let him do this, that he is so young. I will tell you, it is not easy. But I know what kind of man he is. And this, is Jeremy.

On our drive home, when my son was with us, he insisted on wearing his fatigues. He had to be sweltering in them, but it was a privilege and he was proud. I became emotional as we stopped by many sites on our trip and were greeted with strangers, shaking his hand, thanking him. That is what I love about our country. It is so much more than a day, Veterans day, everyday soldiers are fighting for us. And so many more in the past. If there is anything we should not take for granted, it is our Freedom.

Thank you son, I love you! And thank you to those fighting today. Making the ULTIMATE sacrifice. All other struggles seem so small in comparison. And thank you too, to the families of those soldiers as I know first hand, they sacrifice on a large scale also.

And I will end this post with a favorite saying of my sons, we had it engraved on a dog tag with a 'Happy Birthday! I'm So Proud of you!' inscription from his mother on the back.

This is what it says:

"All gave Some, Some Gave All"