Marriage -- Another Viewpoint

Disclaimer -- this is NOT a post about the SCOTUS decision to allow gay marriage in all 50 of the United States.  I am religiously driven not politically driven so I will not be discussing that here.  This is about something else.

Anybody who has read my blog realizes that I am a family history hound.  My research comes and goes in spurts as my interest, time, and available information ebbs and flows.  Right now it is flowing.  One particularly late night last week I had been chasing down some information I hadn't noticed before -- maybe it was something new posted on Ancestry.com or maybe I just hadn't looked closely but there it was.

The Mayflower.  The Mayflower connection I guess that every family historian is curious about and hopes for.  This came from other people's research and I would, of course, have to do my own before I totally lay claim to it but it looks promising.

This leads me to the problem.

This particular branch of my family is the most difficult to prove and, to date, it is the most interesting.  Why is it so hard to prove?  Well, proof requires documentation.  Documentation can be in the form of birth certificates, death certificates, census records, land records, etc.  As you go farther back in the search  these pieces of documentation aren't as forthcoming as you might imagine.  Early census records didn't list each member of the family but rather the head of family and then a counting of the people in the family by gender and age.  So, what does one do when you get farther back?  Family Bibles are always great sources if you are lucky enough to have one.  Published genealogies are generally accepted as proof of lineage with dealing with membership into heritage based groups and societies such as the DAR, The Mayflower Society, DRT, etc.

So, what is the problem you might ask.  My grandmother.  My poor grandmother.  I loved her dearly, still do and now I am very upset over her lack of "paper trail".    I can prove that she was married to my grandfather.  I can prove she had four children, five granddaughters, lived in the same house for close to a  century, I can even find her on the census records.  However, what I can't prove is that she was ever born.  She has no birth certificate as she was born before they were required here in Texas and, even though they became mandatory in 1903, many home births were never recorded anywhere and there were a LOT of home births in the early 1900's.  And, there is no marriage license for her parents.  Don't be shocked. I am not.  And there is not to say there wasn't one, I just can't find it.  Yes, the census records prove that she was born but it doesn't prove parentage and that is the hitch in my giddy-up.


So, early in my quest for Mayflower recognition, I am stopped.  I can prove everything past this point but am stymied early on in the quest.  I am sad first and foremost for my grandmother -- she has no paper trail as a child -- and secondly for me and my daughter and my cousins who would be eligible to flaunt this rich heritage but for the want of a piece of paper.

So, for all my 60's free-loving friends, for all my friends who feel that marriage is too confining, to all my friends who feel that marriage is redundant, to all my friends who ask what importance there is in a piece of paper --- friends -- IT IS IMPORTANT!!!!

For anybody planning to have children under any circumstances -- GET MARRIED!  THE PIECE OF PAPER ISN'T JUST PAPER!!!!

Whether it is a civil union, a religious ceremony, a consentual agreement -- just get the piece of paper.  And keep it.  Put it someplace safe.  Make copies and pass them around the family.  Whatever.  Your grandchildren, great-grandchildren and even your 11th great-granddaughter would really appreciate it.

I am done here. 

Here Comes the Bride - la la la la

Today is our wedding anniversary.  It is our 43rd anniversary.  We were married in Concordia Lutheran Church in San Antonio, Texas at 2:00 pm. The reception was held in the fellowship hall.  As I said on my facebook post this morning -- after 43 years the only advice I can give to young people is don't get married on the 4th of July weekend and don't wear a long sleeved dress in Texas if you feel the a/c in the church is going to give out.  Other than that -- you just have to work it out.  Here are some photos from the auspicious occasion.

You have probably seen these pics before because they are on the computer and I guess I am just too lazy to go scan in others.  They have all turned a nasty orange-y hue but I will tell you that my bridesmaides dresses were a very lovely pale peach color with white flowers.  My grandmother, who made a couple of the dresses, decided to cut out some of the flowers and attach them on top of the dress with pearls.  It was lovely.  They also wore bows in their hair, which I am sure my matron of honor was very fond of, and white gloves.  Remember white gloves?  You can see my matron of honor right next to me in the last photo -- she would be my cousin JSLHall. 

I look exactly the same today except there is more of me and my hair is quite white in the front, darker in the back and hangs to about three inches below my shoulder.  Otherwise, no difference.  I jest, of course.

We celebrated the day last night as I have a meeting at church tonight.  We went to a lovely local restaurant called The Tavern.

Allen had rib eye steak with tomatoes with blue cheese.  I had rotisserie chicken with pecan and wild rice salad.  We had Tres Leche cake for dessert -- one serving shared between us. 

I should have taken photos -- I had the camera but I just don't think about photographing my food.  I should think about that.

Anyway, it was a delightful evening.

Earlier in the day we had company in the form of Dear Daughter and the Bean.  Allen was out working in the yard so Bean thought it would be a good time for a swim.  Makes it sound like I have some sort of outdoor oasis, doesn't it?  Well, here she is lounging away --

It was quite lovely out and I enjoyed sitting out in the nice breeze.  Until later, of course, when the allergies hit complete with chest congestion and swollen eyes.  I am just so pathetic when it comes to allergies. 

Anyway, it was a lovely day!

Walking this Messy Earth by Catherine Valentine

It was the 7th grade when I met Nellie.  We were both new to our junior high school and probably both feeling like little fish in a big pond.  She stood out in the crowd right away because of her beautiful copper penny hair.  We became friends -- not best friends but friends.  She was a very genuinely nice little girl.  Now, I was an only child and very sheltered.  Two of my greatest fears in life were losing my mother and fire.  In 1963, in that 7th grade year, the thing happened that was the culmination of all my fears -- but it didn't happen to me -- it happened to Nellie.  There was a fire and she lost her mother.  I couldn't bear the horror of it but one thing stood out to me -- Nellie's grace with which she bore the burden.  Over the years, through high school, I observed Nellie and how she grew and how confident she became and my mantra was "what would Nellie do" and if I was dealing with something that I deemed particularly difficult I would remind myself that "if Nellie could cope with THAT I can certainly cope with THIS because Nellie went through the worst thing possible".  I have looked at life through Nellie's eyes most of my life.

Nellie and I lost touch over the years until MySpace came into being and I was looking for childhood friends and I found her.  We reconnected there and again on Facebook.  One day I decided it was time to write Nellie a letter and tell her what a profound impact she had on my life. I am glad I did because I would have been forever regretful if I hadn't.  We lost Nellie a little over a year ago and I am still asking myself, during rough days, "what would Nellie do".

Nellie left a beautiful legacy in that of her children, one of which is Catherine Valentine, a young, aspiring writer.  Catherine has written three books -- a children's book "The Waterlady: An Ozark Tale", and two books of poetry "Mothers and Daughters" and the one I am reviewing today, "Walking this Messy Earth".

"Walking this Messy Earth" is a small volume of twenty poems, each one exploring, explaining and/or relishing in the ups and downs of her journey toward God and Christ.  There are moments of despair and joy, self-effacing exploration of doubts and fears, questions of faith and "am I doing it right".  Some of the writings are more child--like and some are more raw and questioning.  All of them are thought provoking and, in my opinion, cover the whole range of emotions of those of faith who are on the same journey -- Catherine just isn't afraid to voice her thoughts which is probably a God-given way for her to learn and make her way.  Questioning and learning is never a bad thing.

One of my favorite poems in the collection is "Christmas".  The first stanza is so indicative of Christmas as we see it --

"A picturesque scene--
the manger and lowly lamb
Christmas and good cheer,
soft lights and presents.
Forgetting the sadness
and the wounds--
a little baby raised to die"

Most time Christmas is just as she describes it -- no thought that with Christmas comes Easter -- no thought to the circle of His life.  This poem certainly brings it all into perspective.

Another offering in the collection -- "Prayers" -- which deals with how to pray -- the right way to pray.  How many people don't pray because they don't feel that they know the "proper" way to pray?

"He hears all -- just speak"

Another that I particularly liked is "Old Faith".  Maybe it is because I am older but as I read this poem I could just hear the tune to "Little Brown Church in the Vale" one of my favorite hymns growing up in my neighborhood Methodist church.   As I read it memories of my time in that church came flooding back and it was good.  Old faith -- so simple.

The poem that stands out to me the most, that touches me the most is "Heart's Want".  It is about her mother.  It is about her acceptance of her mother's passing and realizing that her mother has made the journey and is now in the hands of the Lord.  It is quiet and sad but hopeful and joyous at the same time.

Poetry is very subjective and I believe that everybody gleans from it what they are supposed to -- what is right for them at the time -- and not necessarily what was in the author's head at the time of writing.  To me, poetry invokes mental pictures even more than prose and Catherine's work created some powerful images in my mind.

Clearly this is a collection of faith driven words and thoughts drawn from personal experience.  It is Catherine's journey to this point in her life.  It is uniquely hers yet so undeniably universal -- I feel that anybody who is on a spiritual journey can identify with almost everything in this book.  Because of that I find it to be comforting in that the reader is not alone in his/her thoughts -- a camaraderie of sorts -- journeying hand in hand, so to speak, walking this messy earth.

I did not ask permission to use excerpts from the book but since Catherine asked me to review I assumed it was ok.  Hopefully I won't be in trouble for that.

If you are interested in learning more about Catherine or obtaining a copy of any of her books please visit her at  http://catherinevalentine.wix.com/cvalentinewriter#!blog/cm7y.

In closing I have to add that it is a privilege to know Catherine, to be included in her circle of friends and to have the opportunity to read and review her work.  I am certain that Nellie is so proud of her daughter as am I. I look forward to watching Catherine grow in her life as an author and having the opportunity to enjoy more of her work.

I recommend this book to anyone.

First Date

I remember my first date with the Hubs. 

I was in a rather foul mood that day thanks to another young man who shall remain nameless here.  This other young man and I had a date for that day.  Then we didn't.  Then we did.  Didn't.  I quit answering the phone and went to a girlfriend's house.

My mother came to pick me up and we made a quick run to the grocery store -- the store that Hubs worked at.  I was clearly not a happy camper and the assistant manager kept hanging around the check stand and he asked what was wrong, my mother explained and he said "if I let Allen off work early would you go to the movie with him?"  My mother answered that we would have to ask my dad and he should call in a little while.  Clearly Allen and I had gone completely mute as this exchange between the asst. manager and my mother was going on.   Long story short -- we came home with milk, Cokes, fritos and a date. 

I was just a tad mortified by the whole thing and I am sure Allen was quite anxiety ridden as he was on restriction for ignoring curfew and he had to borrow the car.  I got over it and he somehow managed to get off restriction and get the car so....

We went here --

to see

 and

 and then we sat on the porch and talked until about midnight. 
 
My mother asked if I thought I would go out with him again and I looked her straight in the face and said "Mom, I am probably going to marry him".  Seven years later I did just that.

So, when was this life-changing momentous occasion?  June 26, 1965.  Fifty years ago today.  Did you hear that?  FIFTY YEARS AGO!!!!  How could that be? 

If you are wondering what happened to the other major players in that little scenario well --

The other young man came back a few months later and wanted "to be friends".  I said no.  Regrets?  Yes. We had been friends first and then tried dating.  It didn't work for us but we shouldn't have let go of the friendship.  He ended up marrying a girl I went to high school with -- his second marriage and he has two children.

The assistant manager whose name was Doug was our best man.  We lost touch quite some time ago which is a shame -- he was a nice guy.

My mother passed on in 1996. 

Fifty years ago -- wow.

Unconscious Mutterings

Unconscious Mutterings is a meme hosted by lunanina at http://subliminal.lunanina.com.  I used to do these all the time and then somehow forgot about them.  However, I was reminded on my cousins blog and decided to participate today.  It starts on Sundays but you have all week to participate. So, I am a day late so to speak.

 

Unconscious Mutterings

Free association is described as a "psychonanalytic procedure in which a person is encouraged to give free rein to his or her thoughts and feelings, verbalizing whatever comes into the mind without monitoring its content." Over time, this technique is supposed to help bring forth repressed thoughts and feelings that the person can then work through to gain a better sense of self.
That's an admirable goal, but for the purposes of this excercise, we're just hoping to have a little fun with the technique. Each week I'll post ten words to which you can respond to with the first thing that comes to mind.
"Rules are, there are no rules." There are no right or wrong answers. Don't limit yourself to one word responses; just say everything that pops into your head. AND you don't have to have your words up on Sunday. Take all week if you want! Read the FAQ for more information.


So, here goes

Sunday, June 07, 2015

Week 645

1 day, 7 hours, 50 minutes ago

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Shack :: Sugar -- 1962 song by Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs (really?)
2. Cute ::  hmm..so many things pop into my head -- uh, bunnies
3. Factor ::  algebra
4. Beach ::  relaxing
5. Toddler ::  fun
6. Cups ::  baking
7. Leaning ::  topple
8. Thailand ::  got nothin' here
9. Beanie ::  granddaughter

ok, well, there is my muttering and it appears to be pretty unconscious.  Except for the bunnies.  It is not even 7 o'clock a.m. so I am still reasonably unconscious which would account for some of the answers.

Have a good day!

I Am Not Going to Lie

I am tired.  It was a somewhat emotional day for me for all sorts of silly reasons.  As most everybody knows, my husband and I babysit Bean on the days she is not in school -- three days last year and two this year.  On the days she was in school we picked her up.  Her last day for Pre-K 4 was last Friday but my daughter was still in school all this week so we had Bean all week.  I am not used to having her all day for five days and I knew I would be tired but I really enjoyed it knowing that next year she will be in school five days a week.  We will be picking her up from school but that is so little time together after having had the privilege of having these two years with her.  It hit me at lunch today -- this would be the last lunch I would be making for her -- the last lunch we would be sharing -- the last intense conversation over lunch.  Oh, I know there will be the odd days I will have her, when she is sick or there are school holidays that don't coincide with her mother's days off but it won't be the same.  Oh, the sadness hit like a ton of bricks.  I now have to adjust to my new reality.  I am sure I will be fine but I will miss her and her antics, the long talks, the reading lessons, surgery on the stuffed animals -- all those things.  She is growing up too fast for me.

After I get done with my pity party I have to play catch up.  I have an email to answer (Bonnie!) and a snail mail letter to answer (Mary!).  I am thankful these two friends are patient because I wanted to wait until I could give these correspondences proper attention -- I don't like to try to answer important letters in a rushed manner and these letters are important.  So, that will be the first on my list of things to do starting tomorrow morning.

Next thing is helping Hubs do a little yard work.  We still haven't replaced the tree that fell down and after looking at the whole of the area, we have decided a complete re-do is in order.  Neither one of us is "into" yard work so we are going to make things easier.  Actually, when we had the landscaping done in the back garden it was in an effort to make things easier but the reality of it is, it just became an over abundance of work that neither one of us wants to undertake.  It has become bigger than the two of us together.

There is some sewing to be done and definitely some de-cluttering.  I have done a lot of reading about minimalism and living with what we really need -- not everything we have collected and I am sure this summer will mean a good look at everything that is stuffed in obscure drawers and closet corners.  Some of that will be started tomorrow as well.

I have plans to do some stitching -- hopefully finishing something and then there is the ever ongoing effort to read through my personal library.  I have enough unread books to keep me busy for years -- absolutely years.  So what do I do?  I go to the library.  I have no more room for books so I was thinking an e-reader would be a great idea and it is but I am finding the books to be a little more expensive than I would like to pay.  I do frequent Half Price Books which is great on price but still doesn't solve the problem of too many books.  Yes, I could sell them back but they give you nothing and I would just as soon donate my excess bookage to the library.  There will be some culling of books and more reading -- always reading. 

So, anyway (as Ellen says)  that is what I have been up to for the last couple of weeks and what my foreseeable future looks like.  Hopefully my energy will bounce back after a good nights sleep and I will get back into some sort of a routine.  After two years of spending the majority of my time at somebody else's house I am going to have to reacquaint myself with my own and try to make it meaningful.  I guess I will just have to take it one day at a time and make it work.

Oh, and by the way, I think the new Col. Sanders of KFC fame is creepy! I don't like it!

Have a wonderful Friday and I will see you on the flip side.

Saint Maybe

I just finished "Saint Maybe" by Anne Tyler.  I am not sure, at all, how to review this book.  I enjoyed it and I would recommend it but I am not sure how to describe my feelings about it.

The story begins with the Bedloe family -- a real Beaver Cleaver sort of group.  They seem to have it all together with the parents, Claudia, Danny and Ian.  Slowly but surely the perfection begins to unravel.  Grandma is plagued with arthritis which is progressive.  Grandpa progresses from a rather opinionated man to a weak man.  Claudia is always just on the sidelines -- married with children and living away.  Danny, who is the focus in the beginning, finds love with the beautiful Lucy who comes complete with a shady past, very little background history and two children, Thomas and Agatha -- and a bun it the oven.  Is the bun Danny's?  We never really know.

As the story progresses, Thomas and Agatha become central to Ian as Ian becomes their primary babysitter and consequently more and more involved in their lives.  More than once Lucy is late getting home which squelches Ian's plan with HIS lady love, Cicely.  Lucy's activities seems shady to Ian and he finally decides that she cheating on Danny.  After one evening of Lucy not coming home in time for Ian to meet Cicely, Danny comes home from a party rather drunk and Ian demands that he drive him home in spite of his altered state of being. During this drive home, Ian, angry because of his ruined evening, tells Danny that Lucy is cheating on him. Shortly after this exchange there is an accident killing Danny.  Everyone thinks it was an accident but Ian thinks it was suicide and he feels responsible.  Lucy's death shortly thereafter causes Ian to believe that he was instrumental in both of their passings which just multiplies the guilt.

One particularly low evening Ian stumbles upon the Church of the Second Chance.  It is a non-mainstream church being conducted from a storefront -- but Ian hears the singing and is drawn in.  Here he finds Brother Emmitt who he confesses to and confides in.  Brother Emmett tells Ian that the way to make things right are to devote himself to the children that he feels responsible for making orphans.  That appealed to Ian's sensibilities and for the next 20 years he devotes himself to raising the children with his parents and becoming a master carpenter.  After his mother's passing and the last child, Daphne's, departure from the home, Ian finds his own life in the form of Rita -- a friend of Daphne and the owner/operator of "Clutter Counselor" -- a company who declutters houses.  She was hired by Agatha, now a physician living in California with her husband, to do something about the hoarding conditions that have come to be the norm in the Bedloe household. 

The book ends on an upbeat note with everybody having found their way and happy but for a bit it was a little depressing.  Not depressing enough to stop reading it but you could definitely feel Grandma going downhill health wise, you could feel Grandpa aging, you could feel -- and hear in their voices -- the children growing up -- but at the end it was all ok -- they had made full circle and it proved to be a very satisfying read.

Generations

I dabble in family history.  I have for a long, long time.  The internet has made is much easier to find information and photos and unknown living relatives.  Last night I was checking my Ancestry.com account and my DNA results which are ever changing.  I found a new photo of my great great grandmother as a young woman.  I have photos of her as an older woman, in 1942, but this was was taken probably in the 1870's.  The thing about it was -- it was like looking at my mother.  I might be the only one that sees the resemblance but it was so obvious to me.  I was so thrilled with the find that I thought I would share it here. 

My mom -- somewhere around 1940

My grandmother -- not sure of the year

My grandmother's grandmother

I had to blow this last photo up because it is quite small so obviously the quality is compromised.  My cousin, JLSHall is going to try to photoshop it a bit do clean it up.

Anyway, my great great grandmother is Choctaw Indian -- at least half.  It seems that side of my family married into Indian communities regularly as there are many instances.  Yes, my Ancestry DNA still says I have no Indian blood.  This great-great grandmother had a daughter who was born on an Indian reservation between San Marcos and Austin and her Indian name was Poison Ivy.  She went by Ivy. 

So, that is my most recent genealogical find.  Aren't family trees wonderful?  Isn't DNA amazing.  Isn't the resemblance in these photos uncanny? I think so.

Move Over Lilly -- here's Nona!

A few weeks ago there was a Lilly Pulitizer for Target launch.  There were many clothing and household items.  It didn't go well.  Many of the children's items were scooped up by individuals with the intent to resell on ebay.  My daughter is a fan of LP and was going to buy one of the dresses for her daughter online. It didn't happen.  The online service didn't work and eventually crashed.  There was great gnashing of teeth.  Not by me.  I couldn't have cared less.  I don't stand in lines, I don't hover over the "shopping carts" online. 

However, I decided to come to the rescue so I scoured my stash for something bright colored.  I went through patterns to see if I could find a simple, shift dress in a size 5.  I had one by Burda.

This is the final result.

Apparently this filled the bill.  I did learn, however, that Joann's, at least the one I go to, doesn't stock hemming tape anymore.  I guess with surgers and such people don't use it anymore.  Anyway, the kiddo wore the dress to church yesterday, declared it very comfortable, requested more so I guess it was a success.

Hi! Remember Me? Cold, Tornadoes and a Book Review

Yes, I know....I have been a very inconsistent blogger of late.  However, I have been very consistently ill! Good to know I am keeping on top of SOMETHING!  For the last week I have had what I thought was a really bad allergy attack but I have come to believe it was a ....drumroll, please....cold.

 An old fashioned cold.  I haven't had one in so long I didn't recognize it but I do believe that is what it was.  It seems to be leaving me now even though I was still running a low grade temp last night.  I seem to be more normal today although a bit battered.  Hopefully the rest of May will be uneventful.

I say that as we are facing severe weather the next three days.  If I were looking for an adjective to describe Texas to a non-Texan I would have to say "extreme".  We are extreme.  We never seem to do things moderately.  We don't just have a "line of thunderstorms" passing through -- we have multiple tornadoes and flooding and people drowning in their storms shelters and storm shelters popping out of the ground -- I mean, we rarely just have a day.  Oh we, do but they aren't very often or memorable.  So, I sat here last night watching the weather reporting through every commercial break showing us where the "hook" is, where the rotation is going.  I didn't feel well.  I contemplated getting dressed and finding my serviceable shoes -- something I haven't done for the last three days -- but decided against it.  I decided that if it were meant to be I would just be blown to Oz because I couldn't be bothered.  We didn't get a tornado where I live but there were signs of them closeby.  We did get a lot of wind and rain which blew under my back door.  I just spread out some towels and went to bed.  It is a lovely day today with more excitement promised for this evening.  Yay.

Photo off the internet -- don't know who to credit but thanks!

Not feeling well, no energy, and bad weather has given me time to do some reading.  I have always been the sort that hones in on a particular author and then set out to read everything they have written.  I have my favorite authors just like everybody does, I am sure.  However, the other day I had finished a book and was looking for something new to read and ran across an article about Anne Tyler.  It was interesting.  I then set out to read a blog by mlhall.com and lo and behold, he had written a review of an Anne Tyler book so I took that as a sign.  I went to my neighborhood Half Price Books and picked up two AT titles -- "Back When We Were Grownups" and "Saint Maybe".  I began with the first and was immediately drawn in.

This is the story of Rebecca.  Rebecca with Will.  Rebecca with Joe.  Rebecca with four daughters.  Rebecca at 53 who discovers she has become a completely different person.  I could identify on any number of levels.  The book is so well written it was a joy to read.  The dialogue flowed beautifully, the humor natural, the descriptions were beautiful.  I could just envision the brownstone -- The Open Arms -- in all its dilapidated glory.  The family interaction is so, well, normal -- this could be anybody's family.  It was a great read -- it wasn't a mystery but it was definitely "cozy".  I would definitely recommend and I was sorry to see it end.  I have already started on "Saint Maybe" and it already has me hooked.

But...you have to feel sorry for Will.  That is all I am going to say.

So, folks, that is what I have been doing.  Not much, actually and trying to play catch up today.  Thankfully I feel good enough to do that.  Have a wonderful weekend and Happy Mother's Day to all my mom readers.

First Communion

Being brought up in the church I have always known about communion -- first and otherwise.  My first communion was in 1957 in Asbury Methodist Church, San Antonio, Texas.

When I went there the carpet was blue

We had just built the "new" sanctuary, pictured above, and I was the first one to be baptized and take communion at the new altar rail.  It was quite an honor.  My mother was concerned that I was only seven, four years shy of the accepted "age of accountability" of eleven but our pastor, Brother Cox assured her that my decision -- and it was my decision -- was fine. 

My husband was raised in Northside Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas and was a member there until we married and he became Lutheran.

Fast forward to age 16.  I was disenchanted with the church I had been in since birth so I went "church shopping".  I landed in one of the biggest churches in town with a very large youth group which I never participated in.  The church was Concordia Lutheran Church, San Antonio.  I am probably sitting in the back of that second photo, left hand side as you are facing it, as that was my usual spot but I can't exactly locate myself in that very crowded photo.

Hubs and I married here and our babes were baptized here and we decided to go church shopping again in the mid- 1980's.  After a few years at Redeemer Lutheran in San Antonio we ended up at Mt. Calvary Lutheran Church, in San Antonio and stayed there until we moved in 1990.  Mt. Calvary is where my son went through his first communion and confirmation training.

 He was under the tutelage of Pastor Kim DeVries -- a wonderful pastor, so good with kids.  He passed away just last year.

1990 found us in Fort Worth, Texas -- not a heavily Lutheran area in the midst of the Bible Belt. We finally settled in on Christ Lutheran Church and this is where my daughter took her first communion and had her confirmation.  I would love to show you a photo but by the time my daughter reached confirmation age the church had sold its building of many years and was then located in a store front. 

About this time I had two ailing parents which required much care, regardless of the day.  I pretty much ceased going to church.  I was also put off by the politics that were alive and well in the Lutheran Church so I just decided to take the time off to re-evaluate my thoughts on all things "church".

Even though my children were raised in the Lutheran Church, they were Catholic School educated.  I knew that even though I was going through a religious "situation" they would be fine as they were very deeply entrenched in the Word. 

My son was in college by this time and also doing his own religious exploration.  I didn't really know about it until he told me about the church he was going to that was originally an Episcopal Church that had gone back under the wing of the Roman Catholic Church.  He loved it.  It didn't surprise me.  He left the Lutheran Church to be Roman Catholic.  I was fine with his decision.  We didn't see him join this church, he didn't want us there.  I think this was just a journey he had to take on his own.

About the same time my daughter was going through a journey of her own.  She didn't want to be Lutheran any longer so she started going to St. John's Episcopal Church with a friend of hers.  By this time my parental dynamic had changed and I was missing church.  I had done my "thinking" and was ready to move back into the realm of church but I knew I didn't want to go back to the Lutheran Church so I started attending St. John's with my daughter.  I felt like I had come home. My husband was on a long term assignment in Canada and when he returned for good he wanted to be filled in on everything that had happened that nine months.  I told him we converted. 

So, we all settled into our church homes and then the weddings commenced and the babies came and that brings us up to current time.

Our eldest grandchild and only grandson is now eight years of age.  Last Sunday he received his First Holy Communion at St. John the Apostle Catholic Church.

It was lovely.  I shed a tear.  That little baby that I kept for a while was growing up way to quickly.  I would post photos of him but his parents prefer that his photo not be put on the internet unless it is by the school.

We had a lovely lunch with them at Brio Tuscan Grille in Southlake. It was delicious!

There was cake.

Our gift to the man of the hour was a hand tied Rosary (hand tied by me -- I love making these rosaries -- it is absolutely theraputic to sit and tie those knots). The twine comes from a company called Divine Twine, the instructions from a website called Rosary Army and the crucifix came from James Avery Jewelers, a Texas based jewelry company.

And, last but not least, the proud parents of the young man.  I don't really talk about my son often because they are very private people but I am so proud of him and I love him so much and I can't help but post this photo.

And I would be remiss if I didn't share this photo as well.  I speak often of the Hubs and I post rather unflattering photos of him in the yard and such so I thought I would share this one.  As I was taking it he was instructing me on the fine art of photography.  I didn't listen.  So, here is the Hubs.

I wish I could post some photos of the grandson but I can't so I will leave you with this final pic -- my daughter and son-in-law also known as Bean's parents.

It was a good day, a good meal, good company and I was thrilled to be a part of it.