Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Everyone who knew my grandmother loved her. She was very quiet and somewhat reserved, but she was the most loving person I knew (almost to a fault). She used to pick people up off the side of the road and give out hundreds of dollars to random strangers who came to her for help. An amazing person, but we often worried she would end up getting hurt by one of her mysterious friends or simpmly be taken advantage of.
A couple weeks before she passed away, my grandmother met one such lady on the side of the road. She was homeless and had been out of jail for about a month with no work. She also, randomly enough, had a laptop (which we suspect had been "borrowed", but still don't know) she was selling. My grandma took compassion and agreed to buy the laptop from the woman. My grandma didn't need a laptop, but she said she could find someone who did. The woman, who happened to be from Peru, thanked my grandmother profusely and asked if she could come visit us and play some music for my grandma's birthday, which was in a couple weeks. My grandma loves music and was, of course, delighted.
My grandma's party came, and the Peruvian stranger never showed up. The next morning, my grandmother was gone, and the homeless woman entirely forgotten.
Until the funeral. I had stepped outside for a moment with my mom, who was having a hard time. Suddenly my aunt came running to us screaming, "Lynette! There's a crazy lady cursing and dancing over your mother's dead body! Come quick!"
Apperantly the stranger had not forgotten my grandmother's kindness, and when she saw the obituary in the paper, was sad she had never gotten to play for her. So she showed up, whipped a flute out from the folds of her skirt and the castinets hanging from her neck, and started singing to my grandma. She was dancing and scattering flowers while the entire room just stared, white-faced and in shock. When she was done, she simply turned and left without a word and was gone as quickly as she had come.
Most of my family didn't quite know what to think about this at first. Some were offended, some touched, but most just found it very humerous. For a while I didn't know what to think either, but I know it made my grandma happy that she got to hear the sweet stranger's music. And I know my grandpa was laughing and dancing along. We never saw or heard from her again, but it made for a very exciting funeral.
P.S. Now my mom wants me to hire a Peruvian floutist to play at her funeral. :P
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
When my great-grandma Ruth was young, she fell in love with a man named Dave. Her father wasn't crazy about Dave. But she ran away and married him anyways. From that day on, her father stopped speaking to her, and Ruth had no communication with her family. That Christmas, she was missing her family dearly, but knew she was not welcome at home. So she went out and bought a box of apples and sent them to her father for Christmas. When the apples got to the family home, her father's eyes filled with tears he was sorry he had disowned his precious daughter. He opened the box, took an apple, and he proclaimed it to be the best apple he had ever tasted. It was because it was the Apple of Love. They both forgave each other and lived happily ever after(ish).
So every year, we all get together to celebrate our family heritage and remember the Apple of Love. And this is the family song we always sing at the end:
No matter where you go
You'll be a Lamoreaux
Remember this great truth
A piece of Dave and Ruth
Is inside of you
And the legacy we live
Is to love and to forgive
Stand up for the right
Flee to the light
That's the road of Lamoreaux
This was such an amazing project, and guess what? I had no clue it existed! I was very young when this happened, so I did not know about it. I mentioned to my older sister that I was starting a genealogy blog, and she said I should do a post about "A Glimpse Thru the Veil". And then she pulled out the book! I have been blessed with so many resources, and I'm wondering how many of them I didn't even know existed! Well, I'm gonna go get to know Daddy Gordon better.
Camp rear Bailey crossroads
Virginia June 14th 1865
Dear Sister Mary,
I yesterday received a letter from you and will write you now as I have an opportunity. We are once more in the vicinity of Washington after a hard march from Richmond of one hundred and sixty miles - we rode on the cars from Danville to Richmond, and encamped at Manchester just across the River from there three days. I had a pass to look the place over, and was in the city nearly all one day. I saw the capitol - Jeffs mansion Libby prision - and all the places made notorious by this war, the city has been -before the war- a beautiful place but you know when their army was forced to leave they burned nearly one half of the most business part. We came past some of our old Batllefields on the way here we encamped one night on the Heights of Fredericksburg - and as it so happened, our Regt emcamped right on the same crest of the hill that we first gained when we made our charge at the time of the Chanserville Battle. I could but think and wonder that I was permited to be again there after being in so much danger and you can't tell how very happy I and all the old Vets -who are spared to see it are that the victory at least is soon.
There are many of our boys being in their last sleep at Fredericksburg. O how I wish I could see them here to day. I suppose Veterans are to be kept for a while yet - and perhaps our time out you ask if I am satisfied to stay-I will tell you what I do not like in the Govt last winter before the campaign commenced we got a great many recruits enlisted by large bounties and fear of the draft for one year. These men they are to be first discharged while (I speak not of myself, but my old comrads) old soldiers who enlisted because they were bound to see this Rebellion crushed must stay here. I for one am gld I came not going home with the soft-bread bummers. If you could have seen us the 2nd of Apr when we charged the works- then you would have an Idear how much these bounty men have been worth. I noticed they had a wonderful faculty of finding the rear- probably oweing to the thought of the snug little sum of money they left at home, and thinking , wisely that was the safest place for them. I have yet to see a dead one year man - and I further more advise you to look out now they are coming home for they do love money and may go through you. Make ready and stand with drawn. Cornstalk it is all you will need I guess.
Our Review at Washington was a splendid affair but it was dreadfull hot and some of the tender ones were sun struck. Pennsylvania Av from the capitol to the White House was a perfect jam of people and they filled the road with flowers they are particularly fond of the 6th Corps as you know we arrived there just in time to save them last fall.
I got a letter from Caroline and Bessie L - the other day they were all well at home. I suppose they will have big times when the 11th NH gets home. O what will a poor boy do who has no (shakesphore) Lassie to greet him home.
I would like to see you and look over your new House - shall try for a furlough if I think I will not even be discharged. I want to get out of it and never have been so lonesome since I have been and Uncle Sams service - the work is done and I have had enough soldering.
Tell Nell I will write her soon give her my love also Brad and Jerome remember me to New Ga's folks write of him and (something) this with much love from your brother
Sergt Robt D Sanborn
Co K 6th V Regt - Washington DC
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Well, June is a special month for my granparents. It was the month they were married, and (almost 50 years later), it was the month they were reunited in heaven. My grandpa died very young. My grandma loved him very, very much and it was the hardest thing she ever went through. When she spoke to me of that time, she would always smile through tears and tell me about her first ukulele.
After her husband died, she was left with two young children (one my mother) to care for, and she knew she had to find a way to be there for them. So, she went out to the music store, and bought herself a $20 ukulele. It seems like a silly thing to do at a time like that, but whenever I asked her she would simply reply, "It's impossible to frown while playing the ukulele."
So on the nights when she missed "Daddy Gordon" the most, she would sit her two little girls on her bed and play for them on the uklele. She'd play into the night, and then they'd watch the sun rise on the porch.
About two months before she died, she went into her office and took that ukulele off the wall. She brought it to me. She told me that she wanted me to have it. She always loved listening to my music, and she said me and that ukulele was a match made in heaven.
Well, that old ukulele has seen a lot of smiles through lots of tears, but it was there for my grandma when grandpa left, and it was there for me when she left too. And you know what? She was right. "It's impossible to frown while playing the ukulele."