Remembering

I like the Memorial Day holiday. Not just because of the time off. But to remember and honor those that have gone before me. These family members went through their everyday lives as we all do. But I like to get glimpses into who they were and how they handled things, and honor them for just enduring. These two almost always with a smile. From Grama Bagley I may not have learned the art of quilting or stitching (that skipped generations to my daughters), but I feel a kinship with her when I think about home, children and church. Here is a quote from her journal, where she describes her feelings when she is about to lose her home. "I have become attached to this place. I love the flowers, trees, and shrubs we have struggled to raise from a veritable rock pile. As president of the mutual I have attended five sessions of the annual conference. I have mixed emotions. It was an inspiration to hear Elder Widtsoe say, 'I am as clay in the hands of a potter.' Now I know it is my duty to forget material things and respond to the call and do the will of my Father in Heaven. It is my desire to do a small amount of good while I am young. If someone could say of me, 'she helped me over a rough spot or helped me catch the spirit of the gospel', I would feel my life had not been in vain. The loss of our home and my human weaknesses make me feel I should resign. Then I realize it is an opportunity and I would be cheating myself of growth in our church which means more than anything else."
Another entry in October of 1936 " Many things and events have impressed me and helped my testimony to grow. Not long ago, our three sons all passed the sacrament together. It gave me a feeling I could not describe. I wish then that I could write a poem describing my inner most gratitude for 3 fine sons."
Not long after this my grama and grampa lost their oldest son, Alan to a heart ailment, that he had struggled with for years. One night when Alan was very ill a young man in the ward, Lamont Gunderson, came over to give him a blessing. He told them later that he was about to bless Alan that he would get better, but felt inspired to end with a plea for the Lord to take Alan, that his suffering would be brief. Alan passed away very quietly that night while being held in his dad's arms. He was 18 years old. A year later grama wrote: "Here it is a year since Alan left us. It is as fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday. Oh the heartache. Only a mother who has had a similar experience can know the feeling. The tears flow as freely because of the wound which is as deep as the day he left. It is not in my power to describe my emotions to lose one so fond of life. He brought so much joy into our home. Now it is like trying to go full speed on three wheels or some such impossible thing."Grampa made his home a home full of fun and laughter. He raised a garden, with beautiful peaches, corn tomatoes, raspberries and cherries. He was always thankful to have the land and water to make it possible to grow food. He was never angry with anyone. He often brought little gifts home to his sweetheart, Adelila, my grama. He adored his wife and each of his children and grandchildren, and his great love gave strength and self confidence to each one. He had a great sense of humor, and "believed in buying the very best steak, saying that life was too short not to." His letters to my grama bear out his romantic side and true love for her. I found this letter not to long ago. It is so sweet, asking her if they can name their new little son Gerald Hawley. That son is my father.

From these two grandparents I learned about love, family, security, fun, laughter, persistance and perserverance, overcoming sadness and loss, faith, charity, hope - so much more. I bet they never realized what they were teaching as they just lived their lives. Thanks to you both.