I'm happy to say I've finished my 2013 family book. These books are a cherished gift to my family each year.
Showing posts with label Personal Histories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal Histories. Show all posts
Monday, April 21, 2014
Saturday, September 04, 2010
Roots and Memories
[Background]
A couple of Sundays ago, I was sitting in church listening to the person speaking about the importance of genealogy and writing our own personal histories (check out this article that explains why Mormons feel writing their histories is so important). Anyway, I have always felt somewhat overwhelmed at the idea of writing my "history." But I had this personal "aha-moment" when I realized how simple it can really be. I love writing down the little things on this blog that make me happy today. It hit me that it would be just as simple to write down memories from my childhood and adolescence, young adulthood, etc. as it is to write down a few things I want to remember from my daily life now. To sit down and write an entire book about my life seems daunting, but a post at a time sounds like a blast. Some of you might be saying, "Duh, Daisy, isn't that what a journal is?!" But there's something about the medium of a computer and the ability to tag and post and slurp and the simpleness of it that makes my heart go pitter patter. Yes, I'm in love with technology. So last week as I sat in a writing workshop for school, I began my first "list" of things I want to write about my childhood. And when I feel like it's complete, all I'll have to do is drop the little essays into a book and waaaalaaaa, my personal history will be written. I am by no means a writer, but honestly, if I had the opportunity to sit and read my mother's, grandmother's or great-grandmother's own writing and learn from their lives, their writing abilities wouldn't be as important as trying to understand who they were and learn from their experiences. So on that note, a few thoughts and memories of my dear Aunt Dee and Uncle Bob Foster:
----------------
The same day last July that we visited my Aunt Marian & Uncle Sharon, we also dropped by my great Aunt Dee and Uncle Bob Foster's home. I hope I am getting this right, but I believe my Aunt Dee is my late Great-Grandpa Glen Larsen's sister. I remember visits from Dee and Bob as a young child. Aunt Dee was always quite a hoot teasing Aunt Tami and Uncle Shane (who were in their teens at the time. I remember Aunt Dee always saying, "Tami, you're going to give me a heart attack." I don't remember what Tami used to do to cause her to say that, but Aunt Dee was always laughing and having a good time. Both Dee and Bob have beautiful voices. I remember them singing in my grandparent's living room and also singing at my Uncle Shane's wedding. I remember visiting them when we were younger and my mom always loving the blossoming roses in their yard.
My most poignant memory of Uncle Bob was May 3, 1986. He and Aunt Dee drove all of the way from Utah so that he could baptize me the week after my eighth birthday. I suppose that is why I have always felt a closeness and enjoyed dropping by their home and hearing their stories time and again. I love hearing Aunt Dee's stories about falling in love with "Robert Foster" and their early years in Georgia. I love hearing Uncle Bob's slight southern accent and seeing his passion for teaching and hearing stories of documenting thousands of different plant species and traveling far and wide to do what he loved. This is the first time I've really visited them since I began teaching and Uncle Bob made a comment that stuck with me. He was telling Armando about the years he spent teaching science (Botany I believe) at Utah Valley State College and said that he missed being in the classroom and wished he could still teach. As a new teacher, I still feel that there is so much to learn and I feel there is no time for me to be a good teacher. I wonder if I will ever get to the point that I will enjoy it so much that when the day comes that I'm not teaching I will look back and miss it.
I love seeing my girls in their arms.
Our visit wasn't long with them, but it was enough to give me a little taste again of who they are and feel gratitude for my family roots. I hope I have posterity that will knock on my door when I'm approaching 90 and want to sit on my front porch and ask about my life. I hope that my eyes and my smile will radiate through the wrinkles and that I may live a life worthy of gaining wisdom to pass to future generations. If I don't make it to 90, I hope these little ramblings will serve some purpose for my posterity.
A couple of Sundays ago, I was sitting in church listening to the person speaking about the importance of genealogy and writing our own personal histories (check out this article that explains why Mormons feel writing their histories is so important). Anyway, I have always felt somewhat overwhelmed at the idea of writing my "history." But I had this personal "aha-moment" when I realized how simple it can really be. I love writing down the little things on this blog that make me happy today. It hit me that it would be just as simple to write down memories from my childhood and adolescence, young adulthood, etc. as it is to write down a few things I want to remember from my daily life now. To sit down and write an entire book about my life seems daunting, but a post at a time sounds like a blast. Some of you might be saying, "Duh, Daisy, isn't that what a journal is?!" But there's something about the medium of a computer and the ability to tag and post and slurp and the simpleness of it that makes my heart go pitter patter. Yes, I'm in love with technology. So last week as I sat in a writing workshop for school, I began my first "list" of things I want to write about my childhood. And when I feel like it's complete, all I'll have to do is drop the little essays into a book and waaaalaaaa, my personal history will be written. I am by no means a writer, but honestly, if I had the opportunity to sit and read my mother's, grandmother's or great-grandmother's own writing and learn from their lives, their writing abilities wouldn't be as important as trying to understand who they were and learn from their experiences. So on that note, a few thoughts and memories of my dear Aunt Dee and Uncle Bob Foster:
----------------
The same day last July that we visited my Aunt Marian & Uncle Sharon, we also dropped by my great Aunt Dee and Uncle Bob Foster's home. I hope I am getting this right, but I believe my Aunt Dee is my late Great-Grandpa Glen Larsen's sister. I remember visits from Dee and Bob as a young child. Aunt Dee was always quite a hoot teasing Aunt Tami and Uncle Shane (who were in their teens at the time. I remember Aunt Dee always saying, "Tami, you're going to give me a heart attack." I don't remember what Tami used to do to cause her to say that, but Aunt Dee was always laughing and having a good time. Both Dee and Bob have beautiful voices. I remember them singing in my grandparent's living room and also singing at my Uncle Shane's wedding. I remember visiting them when we were younger and my mom always loving the blossoming roses in their yard.
My most poignant memory of Uncle Bob was May 3, 1986. He and Aunt Dee drove all of the way from Utah so that he could baptize me the week after my eighth birthday. I suppose that is why I have always felt a closeness and enjoyed dropping by their home and hearing their stories time and again. I love hearing Aunt Dee's stories about falling in love with "Robert Foster" and their early years in Georgia. I love hearing Uncle Bob's slight southern accent and seeing his passion for teaching and hearing stories of documenting thousands of different plant species and traveling far and wide to do what he loved. This is the first time I've really visited them since I began teaching and Uncle Bob made a comment that stuck with me. He was telling Armando about the years he spent teaching science (Botany I believe) at Utah Valley State College and said that he missed being in the classroom and wished he could still teach. As a new teacher, I still feel that there is so much to learn and I feel there is no time for me to be a good teacher. I wonder if I will ever get to the point that I will enjoy it so much that when the day comes that I'm not teaching I will look back and miss it.
I love seeing my girls in their arms.
Our visit wasn't long with them, but it was enough to give me a little taste again of who they are and feel gratitude for my family roots. I hope I have posterity that will knock on my door when I'm approaching 90 and want to sit on my front porch and ask about my life. I hope that my eyes and my smile will radiate through the wrinkles and that I may live a life worthy of gaining wisdom to pass to future generations. If I don't make it to 90, I hope these little ramblings will serve some purpose for my posterity.
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