Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 6 - Journals and Diaries

The Book of Me, Written by You. A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people. I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.
 
I had always wished I could unearth some awesome and detailed account of an ancestor by way of a kept journal. To glean a day in the life, in detail, something we can imagine but not really grasp reality wise I expect. There are those people holding on to those sorts of treasures but I have not been so lucky. Shoot! So maybe we all carry the same writing laziness gene in my family? I do have a book with a few notes written in it and recipes from my Great Grandfather Edward Fender. He was a baker and this must have been a work book.
 
I have attempted during many times of my life to be a journal writer but I have a real hard time keeping with it. I start a journal, fade, find it years later and see how lame it reads, call myself a dork and chuck the journal in the garbage. Years later I feel enthusiastic about doing it again and alas, read above, the same thing happens again. I do have one very silly journal from the 80's when a girl friend and I shared a place and a few nights we went out then gave our account of the evening. I am not sure I would enjoy leaving that for my descendants though. Note to self: Find that journal, be like Mom, burn it! /Grin. I am a professional blog fader and I think this blog has been my best attempt at journaling. It has some personal things in it but not my daily thoughts and how I really feel about things. 
 
I do have a thing about pretty blank books. I have a few, one I carry … well, maybe it could be taken as a journal? I have a blank book that I carry in my purse. It has all my daily notes in it. Lists of things I need for the house, to do lists, contacts for things I need done at the house. I keep all my current working (home) notes in it and always have it and a red pen with me. I do save them, I am on my second book, and those I would keep so I could reference them again if needed. So I perhaps future generations will try to decipher what this meant:

 

  

Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 5 – Your childhood home

 
The Book of Me, Written by You. A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people. I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.
 
My childhood was a transient childhood. When I was born I was brought home to a rented half house on Portage Drive in Akron, Ohio. Shortly after that I was moved to Germany for 3 years, then back to Portage Drive in Ohio, my grandmother lived there. When I was 6 my family moved to the Rochester, NY area and there was an apartment in one town, then another apartment in another town then we moved to another town were we lived in a real house on a horse farm. My father didn't work for the farm so once they hired a foreman for the farm, we had to move again and this time we at least stayed in the same town, just down another road and renting another house on a dairy farm. I think out of all the places I lived as a child that was my very favorite house. We stayed there a couple of years and then after my mother remarried, we moved to our final family home. A real house in a real neighborhood in the town that has become my "home town". I have always envied those people that lived in one place for year after year or taken on the house they grew up in. Even in my adulthood I moved and moved and moved, all local to Rochester but I never seemed to stay anywhere longer than 2 years until my husband and I bought our house. I loved and was so happy in that house and lived there for 8 years. I just couldn't keep it after my divorce and never really recovered from that loss. Again to the apartment dwelling, convincing myself that I didn't want to own property. Recently I bought a house and have never been happier and I intend to stay here until I die. This house.. home.. has been a long time coming.
 
My favorite childhood house was the dairy farm house in Scottsville, NY. Just a small two story farm house on a county corner. Two corners were corn fields, the third a cow pasture. Now those are my kind of neighbors! I was a free spirit during that time. Running and playing, mini bikes and jumping out of barns, hay bale fights. Kids just being kids and healthy and vibrant. We drank so much milk living there that I will probably never have a broken bone! Some of my friends had horses. I was never a good horse person and they can usually tell they intimidate me so you can probably tell how my riding went and the skills I didn't garner from this time in my life. Looking at the house there was a front porch in the middle and two windows on either side of the porch. One side was my parents' bedroom (the left two windows), the center porch was where the front hallway and dining room were and the two right windows was the living room. Behind the dining room was the kitchen with a door out the left side of the house and a door out to the garage that was behind the kitchen. Behind the living room was this huge walk in closet and then a pretty large bathroom. I didn't care then like I do now but all the floors were wide plank hard wood floors that just gleamed. To have floors like that now! I love rustic and homey. My parents had a very high huge bed so my sister and I would run from the living room, through the dining room, through the hallway into their room and vault over the bed smacking into the outer wall and giggling like mad as we plunked to the floor. Between the kitchen and bathroom was the staircase going upstairs and once up you turned left and would walk straight into my bedroom or turn left, then turn left to walk down the hallway to my sisters bedroom. One day my sister and I decided to "live together" and I moved all my stuff into her room. By day 2 we were fighting and we had hung a rope across the room with sheets hanging. It proved to be a problem when I couldn't use the door and she couldn't get to the closet without either of us crossing enemy territory lines. My mother said enough and told me to move back to my room. 
 
Our bedroom windows were dormer like and were square and opened inward to the side. I used to climb out those windows and run around on the roof when my parents were away. Once I trip and flew off the roof and ended up snagging the lightening rod with the hem of my blue jeans. Thank goodness for bell bottoms! I smacked against the side of the house hanging upside down holding onto my pants until my friends could pull me back up and guess who never "ran the roof" again?? :)
 
In the front yard there was a huge lilac, I am betting this thing was 25 feet around. We would run around and around chasing either other around it. Two wild plum trees were at each corner of this white house with green trim. Those trees fell very easily to storms. By the road was a buckeye tree. Yes, we and the boy next door were the children throwing buckeyes at passing cars. Until one night one very angry man chased us down and into the house, I was never more terrified and that was the last time I ever pinged a passing car.

In looking for pictures for this post I used Google Earth. It is so sad to see the condition of this sweet little house.

 
I left home when I was 17 years and 4 months old. I left the safety of my parents' home and moved to Muldraugh, Kentucky where my new husband was a private at Fort Knox. That started my next transient lifecycle as an adult.

Secrets of a Jewelry Box

I have a fascination with my Mother's jewelry boxes. I can't possibly explain why but I think most women, as little girls, have stories of sifting through their grandmothers and mothers jewelry boxes? I was always in my grandmother's jewelry and came from her room smelling like 4 different perfumes at the same time when I was little. Since my mom died I can't tell you how many times I have pulled out all this pretty ugly jewelry (haha) and sat sifting through it all. Basically it is costume jewelry, some of it is sentimental, and I usually end up pulling out a bracelet to start wearing (confession, today it is 6 bracelets)… I have this thing about bracelets. Oh, and two rings.

 

So yesterday the electrician came in and put the ceiling light fixture in and I am … finally… after a month of owning a used monster size Stickley desk, putting my office together, or should be. I collected the jewelry boxes from the dining room to put them in a box to store for now but there I went looking through the boxes instead of my "moving in" office project. I can't help it.

This time I stood looking down into this jewelry box (something I have done a thousand times if once) and I noticed something I had never noticed before. See it? I will give you a moment. Out of 3 boxes and three gallon size plastic bags of costume jewelry there is one single item that is different. And more importantly, how on earth did I see past it every single time. I seriously never noticed that pair of used tickets. So now I am writing a blog post instead of moving my office from the dining room to the office. I am so glad I can stay on task…. 

 

My mind immediately starts conjuring up all sorts of things about these tickets. Knowing my mother as I do, that pair of tickets meant something incredibly important to her. When she and my birth father split up she burned everything that had anything to do with him. And I seriously mean burned, that woman was a pyromaniac if ever. When I started on my DAR application quest every single document I asked my mother for was gone, destroyed…. Burned. Lol. (I can laugh now.) She left no trace of her life with a man she was married to. Luckily she left some photographs in tact though she did destroy her wedding album. I understand the why of her actions, I have that rage gene too, but I wish she had kept my and my sister's family history intact. So while I derailed my objective of this paragraph, let me get back to the point. That pair of tickets had not a thing to do with my birth father. The tickets are from Ohio and $1.25 so had nothing to do with her period of life with my wonderful step-father.

When my mother died there were two personal items in her bedroom. One was a 1964 letter from a man I think she was in love with and I think he was the love of her life. Or perhaps he was the one she let go and regretted.  It was a letter that was telling her he was going to get married and yet still talked about how he had felt about her.  So it was a love letter in a way and a goodbye letter in another way.  Everyone keeps "that" kind of goodbye letter.  But that it was easily accessible to her speaks the importance of that letter to her and helps me understand her and her life a little bit more.  The second was that pair of tickets tucked away in her jewelry box. Other than that she didn't leave much about her as a person. I mean, we had a house of "stuff" to deal with but not a lot of paper proof that defined her as an individual. We never did stumble upon that box of love letters that everyone hopes to find.   Those tickets were kept for a reason and my intuition is telling me it has everything to do with the man in the letter.  And I can't believe I missed them!  So we have mystery documents and probably no answers but it is fun to imagine; to dream. Were those tickets from the date of her dreams?  Where they their first date?  The last time they saw each other?  I would love to know.

Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 4 - Favorite Season

 
The Book of Me, Written by You. A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people. I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.

My absolute favorite season is AUTUMN! Spring comes in a close second but I love everything about fall accept that it is so short and then we have Winter… it's not my favorite.

Fall, to me, is the harvest and the richness of the bounty from a long period of summer work. It's the colors that spring to life in reds, oranges and golds. It's the feeling, that internal clock, that you can feel when the garden slows down and starts to go to its dormancy to sleep. I am out there with that last zucchini plant and that one almost big enough zucchini to pick saying come on, come on, give me this one last zucchini! It's trying but it would rather grow on a 85 degree day not 50! It's about the rows of jarred tomatoes, all the jams from sweet smelling harvests, salsa's and fruit butters and the freezer full of every vegetable your garden could imagine this year. It's the melancholy was we trim back those herbs and perennials we take so much joy from as they bloom happily for us all summer long and telling them I will see them again in spring. It's catching the last whiff of mouth watering fragrances of basil and thyme, sage, rosemary and that delicious smelling pineapple sage. It's watching the birds quickly devour every last minute seed and berry but they know I will take care of them all winter with plentiful seed. There is that pang of sadness as the hummingbird I bonded with stuck around as long as she could. She has been gone a week and a half and I miss her, she is very playful. It's the slowly turning and vibrant beauty of the leaves beginning to turn… it seems like it will never happen and then suddenly it is over. It's feeling that breeze turning cold and watching those big fluffy clouds with the dark grey bottoms scudding across the sky. It's yet too early to whisper that four letter word… s.n.o.w. It's the wood stoves and fireplaces cranking up and that homey smell of wood smoke in the air.. I am a nester… Autumn fits me like a glove.

I remember as a child my sister and I would spend what seemed hours making a pile of leaves to scatter them in a matter of seconds and then we would do it again. Fall is about Halloween, pumpkins, and corn mazes; a holiday that has turned out to be my children's favorite. I made it special when they were little and they haven't forgotten. They still love to dress up. It's about Thanksgiving, a holiday that has turned out to be more important to me than I can ever express. It just seems to me that this is the one holiday a family can come together, repair and dare to dream of more wonderful holidays to come.

As I close my eyes and let my senses take over… these are some of my favorite things:
 
The crunch of dried leaves under my feet.
The cold air that just smells so good.
The sound of a rake (in honesty, the sound of someone else raking).
The crackling sound and smell of a roaring fire.
The taste of apple cider, donuts, apple pie, apple butter (most likely a good apple harvest year!)
The silence in the wee hours of the morning, those little birds are sleeping in now.
The sense of accomplishment I feel with all I harvested, foraged at farm markets and created to carry the summer season along with me.
A snuggly blanket and a good book, something there is not much time for in summer.

Book of Me, Written By You Prompt 3 - Describe your Physical Self

The Book of Me, Written by You.  A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people.  I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.

 
Reading through the posts in the group on Facebook for The Book of Me, Written by You I can see many feel the same that I do. This is a hard post to write. So, I have opted to write mine first then go and read the others.
 
I am an average person physically. I have been told throughout my life that I am cute. Sigh. Doesn't every woman want to be the great beauty of her time? Wink. Actually I have good genes. I look younger than my years, at times have shocked people when they do find out my age and the jaw dropping looks from people when they realize that 36 year old man standing next to me is my son gives me a big ole grin for the day. I will take it! Shallow? No, not me, I would prefer to be known for things other than looks.
 
I have often teased that I come from the land of giants. The Duncan's of my family tree are tall. My mother was 5'9", my grandfather 6'7" and his sisters around the 6' foot mark. I ring in at 5'4" and while that is not short, I am the shortest woman in my family (even my daughter is an inch taller) other than my 6 year old granddaughter.
 
I am dark brown of hair, fair skinned (I burn and peel and that is probably why I have helped stopped the aging clock, I avoid the sun) and I have hazel eyes. They tend to be more green in summer, more brown in winter and I am told by one that they can sparkle and produce a smile
 
My dress size is my most frustrating part of my physical person. Weight has been a life time battle.. I am an emotional and a stress eater. I lost a lot of weight when I was sick over the last two- two and a half years. My last year of good health has packed on those pounds again. My doctor feels it is better to tackle healthy weight than to have deprived my recovering body by starving it to maintain that size 12. Well, I have slid into 16's US of late and I am feeling ashamed, defeated and like a failure. I also have to cut myself some slack, I was very ill and being able to write this post is a major life battle won. And, I have realized that things are going good for me I tend to gain weight. That is a long time and very old protective trigger. So, I am trying to accept myself as is and along the way eat for my health.. We will see how this goes.
 
I have a few scars. The scars I am very proud of, or was when I was 10 years old, are a little "v" shape over my right eye almost to my temple and an up and down scar in front of my temple. Those are rights of passage scars. There was a hill that all the boys rode their stingray bikes down and I didn't have a stingray bike and was told that since I was a girl I wouldn't be able to take that hill. So down that hill I went to show them the what for and woke up in an ambulance being rushed to the hospital. I remember my mom holding my hand during my stitches "surgery" (they had to make sure there was no concrete in my head, haha) and then I proudly showed off my stitches at show and tell the day after I had them out.
 
The remaining scars are life scars. Two caesarian sections and then the laparoscopic spots of my gall bladder surgery last year - - there are 5 very small white scars on my abdomen.
 
When I was 40, newly divorced and unsure why now, I got a tattoo. At the time I was very much into the SCA (Society of Creative Anachronism) and carried a dagger in my bodice so I suppose thought it would be fun to have a dagger tattoo there. So, I laid there for hours getting a dagger needled down my breast bone. Anyone know how much that spot hurts? The tattoo artist mentioned I had a high tolerance for pain and she kept asking if I needed a break to which I said no.. You just get to the point that you want it done. I don't hate it now but if I were to do that moment over again, I probably wouldn't get it. I am not sure regret comes into play but I just happen to like to feel more ladylike without it. Would I get another one? No.
 
Miscellaneous things about me - My dentist says I have nice teeth. Luckily I was blessed with straight teeth. I love toe polish and you will usually see me sporting a maroony red polish, occasionally purple or navy blue. Rawr! I am busty, could have done without that in high school… just saying. When in shape, my curves are in all the right places. Feet, I have big feet and have always hated that. I want delicate little feet. But.. I wear a size 9 1/2 shoe.
 
Me, in a nutshell.
 
The image in this post was a self portrait exercise done in Art Class in 1974 which would put me at 14/15 and 9th or 10th grade.

The Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 2 - Your Birth

The Book of Me, Written by You.  A writing exercise that I am taking part in because I always feel like I am chasing dead people and not documenting the "alive" people.  I hope to teach you a little about me as I learn about you.

Age - 3 months

I was born on Sunday, August 30, 1959 at Akron General Hospital in Akron, Summit County, Ohio. Those I know that were nearby were my Grandmother, I was her first born grandchild, and my "Aunt Pat" (my mom's best friend through life), and my Father. Aunt Pat LOVES babies and the expression on her face when my daughter was born and those wiggling fingers of hers as she approached to take my daughter into her arms… well I know how she looked when she did that to me, haha.. She always proudly reported she was the third person to hold me. I love that woman more than she will ever know.

I went home to live with my parents and grandmother on Portage Drive, Akron. I had dark hair and blue eyes and grew into brown hair and hazel eyes and I do have a card with my newborn picture with my length and weight on it but can not find it currently. I do remember I was 7 pounds and a few ounces and I think, if memory serves me, that I was 19"-20". I was an easy, average, birth.

  

My feet - My Mom's thumbprints

Random Things:

Top Song of the week -

August 23 – September 19 1959

Browns - The Three Bells

4 weeks

Pasted from <http://www.bobborst.com/popculture/number-one-songs-by-year/?y=1959>

Popular Films

• Ben-Hur
  
• Some Like It Hot
• Anatomy of a Murder
• North by Northwest
• Sleeping Beauty

Popular Singers

• Doris Day
  
• Frank Sinatra
• Connie Francis
• Jim Reeves
• Cliff Richard
• Ella Fitzgerald

Popular TV Programmes

• Bonanza premieres on NBC, the first weekly television series broadcast completely in color
  
• Juke Box Jury premieres on BBC Television
• Dixon of Dock Green (UK)
• The Huckleberry Hound Show

Pasted from <http://www.thepeoplehistory.com/1959.html>


 

Astronomy

Aug. 30, 1959	Rise	Set
Actual Time	6:49 AM EDT	8:02 PM EDT
Civil Twilight	6:21 AM EDT	8:31 PM EDT
Nautical Twilight	5:47 AM EDT	9:04 PM EDT
Astronomical Twilight	5:11 AM EDT	9:40 PM EDT
Moon	3:18 AM EDT (8/30)	5:45 PM EDT (8/30)
Length Of Visible Light	14h 09m
Length of Day	13h 12m
Waning Crescent, 13% of the Moon is Illuminated
Aug 30 Waning Crescent			Sep 2 New	Sep 9 First Quarter	Sep 16 Full	Sep 24 Last Quarter

Pasted from <http://www.wunderground.com/history/airport/KAKR/1959/8/30/DailyHistory.html?req_city=Akron&req_state=OH&req_statename=Ohio>

 

The Book of Me, Written by You Prompt 1 - Who Are You?

The Book of Me, Written by You.
Prompt 1

 
I stumbled across the new blog series and thought I would do my best to be a part of it. I can't promise I will make every prompt but I love the idea of this project and future researchers of my family might know a bit about me. I am so busy documenting dead people I always forget the people that are alive. My bad!!

Who Am I?

1. A survivor! Last year I survived a grave illness and above that I walked away with no permanent disabilities. I am thankful every day.
2. A mother. A son, a daughter - the two most precious things in my world.
3. A partner. I am not an easy partner to have, I have baggage.. In this relationship I am learning to be more kind, to listen and mostly to cut people some slack. I am hard on myself and everyone else in my life.
4. A sister. We have always loved each other, now we are finding our relationships, repairing, cementing and moving forward knowing we have each other.
5. A friend. I am blessed with good people in my life.
6. A member of the DAR. An achievement that is not mine but the men in my family that gave of themselves to make us a Country. I am very proud of these men to fight for what they felt was right.
7. A volunteer. I volunteer in minor capacities and will be joining my Fire Department in the Women's Auxiliary. (very excited about this)
8. A knitter. I knit, I am not great at it and never will be but what I do do, I enjoy.
9. A spinner (handspun yarn). Spinning, it's where I find peace and my zen. When that wheel spins and that luxurious fiber slips from my hands onto the bobbin, I am so there. Ahhhhhh.
10. A family historian. I love it, I will never be a super genealogist but I am very happy with my accomplishments thus far.
11. An independent woman. Fiercely, I hate feeling trapped and helpless so I should probably describe myself as "intensely independent".
12. A complicated woman. Something I am told regularly.. I expect this is that intense thing… heh.
13. A stubborn woman - which I was reminded of again just today. Yes, I am stubborn. Someone has to look out for me.
14. A woman who sometimes struggles but always fights to the top. My life has been a series of things to overcome. I never stop fighting.
15. A woman who has dropped her roots again after a transient 12 years. I lost my house 12 years ago in divorce and never thought I wanted to be a homeowner again. After my illness I found my life very unsatisfying and bought a house.. It's like my life clock started again and I am living. I feel like I was taken out of a box and the dust blown off.
16. A woman who is finally understanding what "inner" peace can be like. I think it has everything to do with number 15.
17. A new home owner. The start of number 15 and 16. I am so in love with my house, my home and the life I am building for myself there.
18. A gardener again. I missed it.. Peace. Harmony.
19. A history enthusiast. I love history and love learning though lately I am realizing that I know more about the Tudor period of England than anything and unsure how that happened, haha. I am Scots!
20. A daughter. I was the best daughter I could be and being the daughter of an alcoholic did not make it easy. I wish from the center of my soul I could change or had changed the course of my relationship with my mother before she died.
21. A devoted granddaughter. My grandmother was my rock, my savior. She died when I was in my 20's and I have still not recovered.
22. An Aunt. I am proud to say that my nephew started college this year!
23. A grandmother. I have two beautiful grandchildren and wish them the world and every happiness.
24. A soap maker. After 15 or so years I started making soap again. It's so fun.
25. A canner - food! With the garden, house and nesting came my old hobby of canning once more.
26. A woman who never stops wanting to learn. I always find things of interest to spark my curiosity, I love to learn.
27. A worker bee. I am at the bottom rung career wise, there for I do a lot of the work! I am content, my life is outside of my employment, it pays the bills.
28. I am an introvert. I am okay with this. I am a solitary type personality and can keep myself occupied day in and day out. I don't do well in crowd type situations. Big parties stress me out and make me anxious and I am very quiet which surprises people that truly know me. In my comfort zone I know how to have a good time, lol.
29. I am a Virgo. 'Nuf said. It means I am anal, detailed and difficult to get along with. :)
30. I am the child of a deceased alcoholic and daily re-sort, re-group, cut myself some slack and let the anger fade into healing. It has been 2 years this past week. I miss her terribly, moreso than the last two years.
    
     

And Then One Day "Home" Takes On Its True Meaning

Inside of me has always been a being that wanted to be part of a large family.  What I got was a small family with it's ups and downs like all families but still after 53 years I have not changed that gypsy type vs rooted type person.  Currently I am viewing this as my lack of commitment skills not being so sharp.  I was born in Akron Ohio, lived there until 5 and was uprooted to live in the Rochester NY area.  I lived in three different towns by the time I was in 3rd grade, the third town I lived in until I was in 9th grade.  Still, I would not call those towns "home" nor even Akron for that matter because what sense of roots can you feel at 5?  In 9th grade my mother remarried to a wonderful man who taught my sister and I that "Dad" was not a bad word.  I was angry from being uprooted from my friends and made them pay dearly with my awful awful behavior..something I still regret to this day.  My "Dad" will never know how I suffer still at how awful I was to him when all he did was offer me unconditional love.  And in one short year of living there the Police Department knew me well.  Thankfully I wasn't a career criminal but did have a year of the worst of decision making skills possible, lol.  Still, through all that HE taught us what it was to have a "home town" and he taught us the value of community.  I wish my Mom had been more a part of his community.  I am the "daughter" of a volunteer Firefighter and watched a man dedicate a good 30 to 40 years to the fire department of what I consider my "home town".   I remember in my early 20's I wanted to be a firefighter too and he told me no.  I said I would do it anyway and he said no, I could join the Ladies Auxiliary which I took (at the time) as the highest insult.  Well come on, back then I was 20 and the Ladies were all my mothers age and older!  And that wasn't what I wanted to do, I wanted to save the world!  He was adamant.

Forward time, I owned a house in my home town and divorced.  I wanted to start "new" and moved to a neighboring town and learned what it was just to live "somewhere" not live home.  Sadly, I didn't see this at the time but when I think back I remember feeling odd in my move but threw myself into work and social life.  I met a man and married him, we decided we would buy property in my home town and in the meantime we would move to a town in the next county to save money to build our house.  Well, best laid plans.  My daughter started school there, we saw a house we liked and bought it but still didn't give up on the house build idea and then my marriage with him didn't work out.  By then my daughter had just a few years of school left before she graduated so I stuck it out so she could graduate with the friends she had grown up with.  It was the best of sacrifices by the way.  She came out of her school years with life long friends and a sense of home.  Sadly, I never did make this town that I lived in for 16-17 years "home".  I was involved in many things but still always considered Webster my home.  So then my move took me to yet another town surrounding Rochester which was 15 minutes closer to work for me and where my daughter was going to college.  So I lived there for 3 years for her.  Now this is another town that I could have gotten involved with but I didn't because in the back of my mind for 30 years now is to end up back in my "home town" to put down my roots and involve myself in all the things I wanted to do there.  Are we seeing the transient trend to my life yet?  It's exhausting isn't it?  So now, my daughter is finished with school and she is moving in with her fiance and what did I do?  Moved to yet another town, a town I do like very much, and the bonus!  A 7 minute commute to work.  And still, going on 2 years here and I am still not involved in my community because I STILL consider my home town my community.  And if volunteerism is that important to me, wouldn't any town do?  Now don't get me wrong, I am active in many ways in helping other people but it is not me really dedicating my living breathing life in helping people the way I want to.

So.. This past year has been a doozy and maybe it took this past doozy of a year to bring that mirror up for me to take a good and hard look into.  I met a man who is the embodiment of what I have always wanted for myself.  He is his community and he happens to be from my home town.  And while I have been "home sick" for a very long time even if local, gosh, he made me even more homesick.  And for years, every time I drove through town for whatever errand I had to wonder why I was not back there yet.  So recently I have been ready to return "home".  Seriously, my commute would be like 20 minutes instead of 7 minutes so just what is the problem?  Well one is that I like being on the closer side to my kids but that is just geography, we are all still local.  It is not like they are states away.

Recently I said at work.. "Oh I never felt like this area was home, I easily could pick up and move anywhere to start a new life…" 

Christmas Eve morning, 2012, the incident of open fire on Firefighters showing up to put out a fire turned out to make me the largest of liars in that above statement.  The Firemen that were wounded and died are from my "home town".  I would have taken this incident anywhere in the world personally having grown up in a firefighters house but this was my home town and this stuck the very core of what I consider home.  This man I spoke of above is a first responder as well, they are all hero's every day of their life.  In the days that followed I showed up to help at that fire department and had the delightful experience of the women of my home town making me feel so welcome and remembered.  Two of the senior Ladies looked me up and down and said I looked familiar and as soon as I spoke one heard my mother's voice.  In June of this year I was very ill and almost didn't make it.  I asked myself what would I be doing with my gift of life?  For a very long time I have been ignoring the call and the hints and the things that happened that were pointing me home.

And so… it's time to go home.  It's time to fulfill the legacy I want for myself.  I think Genealogists and Family Historians can understand this maybe better than most.. We strive for our history and roots. 

Rest In Peace and thank you for your selfless service to our community Michael Chiapperini and Tomasz Kaczowka.

Happy New Year to good.