Friday, May 8, 2009

Article #54 Don't Forget Grandma

Is your grandmother still around or is she gone and forgotten? I spent lots of time with both of mine, but I never knew my great grandmothers as they died before my birth. I suppose you could say…nothing can be done about that…but that’s not true. From talking with my grandparents I learned more about their mothers. All it takes to preserve their memories is for me to record those conversations and tell my family about these special matriarchs who are part of our heritage.

I remember my Grandma Johnson (photo on the left with her husband William Marion, daughter Esther and son Clarence) who was born in Eureka, Utah in 1890. She had a great influence on my life. Short and plump, full of energy and hugs for all her eight grandchildren, we loved to visit her. When my mom was widowed in 1945, moving in with grandma seemed like a natural thing to do. I got the best of both worlds when she became my babysitter while my mom worked. We lived upstairs in grandma’s boarding house. During those years, she would tell me fascinating stories about her courtship with grandpa and her life in old Silver City, a bustling mining town in Utah now abandoned. Grandma recalled how her mom (my great grandmother) was a midwife and had helped deliver many babies born in those days without the convenience of hospitals. Grandma’s dad was a miner who died young leaving her mother a widow with ten children. That made three generations in a row of young widows in my immediate family. Listening to her talk about her parents introduced to me to my great grandparents that I’ve never met.

Years later, I sat down with grandma again and wrote down these stories that she had told me when I was younger. Compiling a story of her life complete with photos, I wanted to preserve her family memories for my children and future grandchildren who will never know her or her parents in this life. When I married and had my first child, I was able to take a four generation photo (on the right) of grandma, my mom, myself and my new baby boy. Dying suddenly at age 76 (soon after the birth of my first son), grandma was thrilled to meet her first great grandchild. I don’t want this special person to be forgotten. I want my posterity to know of her contributions to my life. If I don’t write her story-who will? 

6 comments:

  1. I'm so glad I took the time to write my mother's biography and collect photos and documents to add to the appendix of it. I refer to it often when I need family information. One of the items in the appendix is a letter my mother wrote as a 15-year-old girl. What a peek into her adolescence that is! The pen pal to whom she wrote the letter returned it to my mother many decades later. Lovely family photos in your post, Lin.

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  2. Lin, You really are an inspiration to anyone interested in things historical. So easily our family stories can be preserved, if we take a little time to visit with our older family members. I'm glad for the stories preserved in our own family line.

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  3. I had one grandmother who died when I was just newborn, and the other when I was about 9 or so. My most vivid memory of her is the painfully vigorous hair-brushings she gave. I think I had the bad luck of always having tangled hair when she was mad about someting - lol!

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  4. My father's parents were already gone before I was born. I did get to spend some time with Flo's parents, but they had both passed on by the time I was 15. My brother has done some family research about our family in Ireland[paternal].

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  5. I knew two great-grandmothers. They were both lovely and kind and wise and loving.

    Beautiful post. I so enjoy your family story.

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  6. Like so many of the others, I lost one set of grandparents as an infant... My mother's dad when I was 14, and I adored my mother's mom! She was saucy and sweet and funny and spoiled... A real pot luck of character traits. She was a true beauty with thick black hair and pale blue eyes fringed with lush lashes. A small woman with an adventuresome heart that must have felt tightly squeezed in her little frame.

    I should write about her. As you say, if I don't, who will?

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