Some family members have shown interest in our ancestors and have come up with intersting questions. Where did our family originate, what were their names, what was life like? Some questions, unfortunately, may not be answered because history gets lost in time. With our busy lives, it takes time to dig into history. But if we don't start somewhere by trying to fit the jig saw puzzle together and fill in the blanks with names, dates, links, even more history will be lost. In my opinion, that is a shame and very sad. Afterall, our ancestors may have had some wonderful stories to share, pictures to show, explanations as to what makes us tick.
As time passes, I realize more than ever, why I would rather be out of the spotlight, why do I love everything in nature, why do I love to hand stitch, why am I so darn frugile!!! I am a Norwegian. I come from a strong Norwegian, Lutheran heritage, where I thought everyone ate oyster stew on Christmas eve and everyone ate lutefisk and lefse on Christmas day, and everyone's parents went to Songerfests.
We didn't go to Disneyland when I was little.Instead, our family and aunts and uncles would rent an entire lake resort filling numerous cabins with fishing equipment, flotation devices to play with in the lake, mosquito repellent, lots and lots of food, pots and pans to prepare fish dinners, warm sweatshirts for evenings by the bonfire and of course, our allowances to spend at the little store. I had to have my daily fudgesicle.
My Dad and uncles cleaned fish in this little shed and told jokes in Norwegian while they flung the bones and remains of fish out the door. I sat while eating a fudgesicle and listened, wondering what they were saying and figured it was a pretty good joke when my uncle Marty would laugh and laugh. What a great laugh he has! My uncle Marty has the kindest eyes you ever saw. He was a barber and he used to cut my hair until my Mother thought I should go to a lady's "hairdresser" and "get my hair done". I cried and cried and wouldn't come out of my room after a visit to "the hairdresser". I wanted to go back to uncle Marty and get my haircut. He was nice to me and didn't tug on my hair. He also didn't put rollers in my hair that made my forehead stretch so tight, it looked like I had a facelift at the age of 9 years old!
I liked the boyish bob haircut my uncle Marty gave me. I also loved the chair I got to sit in. It was a huge, black leather barbers chair and it smelled like shave cream.
So, I guess since uncle Marty was so good at cutting hair, he was pretty good at cleaning fish as well. He was pretty good at telling jokes in Norwegian too.
Family stories, family history, family......cherish them. Take time for them. Keep them alive and share the history with your family. Play with your grandchildren. Play with your children
I am in the process of scanning in more old photos of family. So be patient, there's more to come of pictures and family history.
2 comments:
So very cool! I can't wait until you write more! //jk.
Your uncle Marty is my Dad. My name is Dianne. I can't wait to show dad a copy of the very nice things you had to say.
Dianne
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