Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Monday, September 01, 2008

What's in a name?

One of the interesting things I have found living and visiting the East coast is how connected to family history people are. I find it fascinating to hear people talk about where their grandparents or great grandparents came from. We didn't really have this on the West coast. My theory is that it took longer for the West to be settled, so there is a generation or two that is separated from their families who may have stayed on the East side of the continent, or remained in their "homelands."

A while back, I saw an ad for ancestry.com while watching something on the history channel. I decided to take advantage of their three-day trial just to see what it was like. I sat down at my computer, and much to my amazement, within about 20 minutes I was able to trace my grandmother's side of the family back about 500 years to Notinghamshire, England (Mullins, to Flint, to Flynte). I didn't get far on my maternal grandfather's side. But I was curious about the name. I thought I knew that Mullins was derived from the French. I didn't realize that there is also an Irish derivative. My mom's cousin sent me some family history on disk a while back. But it wasn't very well organized. Some word documents and powerpoint shows. I keep saying that I should go through and sort them out some day. I wasn't so lucky on my father's side either. I got to my great grandfather and hit a roadblock. I'm not sure if anyone has done any studies there.

I don't have any delusions of finding famous ancestors or claim to fame of any sort. It's all just a curiosity. Who knows. Maybe I'll decide to subscribe to ancestry.com someday. I have lots of photos I could scan and share. There might be someone else out there who would be excited to see them.

Monday, June 16, 2008

The Family Visit

The decision to visit the NW this year when we did was so that I could attend my nephew's graduation. It's hard to believe that they would allow a ten year old kid to graduate from high school. But time flies, and I guess he's not ten anymore. We drove from Molalla, Oregon to Portland, to Olympia to Elma, Washington. It's a small town about 30 minutes West of Olympia. As rushed as I felt getting there, it was a really pretty drive. The graduation was like most - a lot of talking by people I didn't know, trying to be inspirational, but really just kind of droning on and making inside jokes that only the students get. But a lot of my family was there from all over Washington and Idaho. I always have a lot of anxiety when I go to visit my family. It's not that I don't love them, I do. But I don't share their religious views, which I can see past, but they really can't (although, my mom seems to be pretty good about that). It really bothers me that I want to just visit with them, but that always seems to insert itself in some way. So, as a result, I don't see them much. And when I do, it's only briefly. (The pic is my nephew, Seth, my brother, Tom, my dad and me.) My mom said once that "family is important, in the end, it's all you got." I didn't really understand that at the time. I think she said it at some sort of family gathering surrounding a funeral, so I chalked it up to that. Family seems to get tight when they loose a member. But, maybe it's a part of getting older. We start to feel our mortality, yearning for younger days when everything felt safe. The safest place was always at home with your family. Now that I'm getting older, those days seem to be a little dream-like, maybe a little idealistic. Of course I do remember the times I was unhappy and down-right miserable too, but somehow in hindsight it seems so manageable. One thing we always hear is that we eventually turn into our parents. It horrifies all of us I know, and in the end it's true to a point. I still remember that first time I looked in the mirror and just for a second - as quickly as you could think about it - I saw my dad. Kinda freaked me out. Now I find it interesting because I see other members of my family too. Sometimes my dad, sometimes my mom, my uncle, or even my grandfather.

I've been thinking of my grandfather a lot lately. He passed away years ago. He wasn't the "climb into his lap and fall asleep" grandpa most people visualize. He was quiet, but loving. Aloof, but there. He was always a bit of a mystery to me as a kid. Not very gregarious - I don't think he liked kids much, and barely tolerated most people. That's always been my version of him. He liked to spend a lot of time gardening. They had a double lot, and the back half was all vegetables and berry gardens. He also did a lot of ornamental gardening - roses, tiger lilies, peonies... just about anything. He was an avid camper, hiker, and fisherman. He loved being in the mountains. I remember that sometimes he would come home from a long camping or fishing trip just long enough to pack up and go again. I was lucky enough to go with him once when I was in high school. It sounds strange, but it is one of those special memories I shared with just him and me. He was also an incredible photographer. He played the guitar in church and at family functions. Even "taught" me as a kid. He had boxes and boxes of pictures and slides. Many of his pictures were of scenery from his camping trips or of different flowers in bloom. He had his own printing press, and printed all kinds of graphics on business cards, brochures, announcements, I think he even printed napkins for someone's wedding once. All of this is starting to sound personally familiar to me. I like spending time in my garden, I miss hiking and camping in the northwest, and I have tons of photos of things in bloom, and I've been attempting to learn how to play my guitar, and have been working in print and online media for years.

A few years ago, my mom came to visit. We were walking around the back yard and I had my camera in hand. I stopped to take a picture of a bromeliad that had just started to display this spectacular bloom. I smiled and chuckled and said, "I'm starting to feel like grandpa." My mom's smile faded a little. We both got quiet as those words slowly sank in. We both missed him.

Fired in Salute

My grandfather was in the Navy during World War II. One night, when I was about 17, he told me his story about the King of Arabia. He wa...