Retro Post... Homesteaders

This is day 3 of my retro posting. In case you missed my explanation, I am going through posts from my first year of blogging. This is another from February 2011.

Homesteaders

This is a picture of my great grandma, probably taken in the 70's.  This is pretty much how I remember her.  I was a teen-ager when she died.  I remember being sad but as I think back, I don't really remember having a lot of interaction with her.  I saw her only as she was then, an old lady.  I don't remember her being terribly cuddly or warm but she was always nice to us.  I do remember her Southern accent with a voice that stood out in a crowd.  We didn't have any cute name we called her.  In fact, I remember that we called her, "great-grandma".   It seems strange now that we didn't call her anything warmer or shorter.  I wish we'd called her Grandma Rhoda.  Too late now.  I'm sure at the time she was wearing this dress,  I probably just thought of it as an old lady's dress.  Today, as I look at this picture, I'm thinking, "Is that Orange Paisley?!"  

This is her in her younger years.  She and my great-grandpa were Wyoming Homesteaders.  They left North Carolina and arrived in Wyoming on an emigrant train.  My Grandma Rose was just a baby at that time and the homestead was so far out in the boonies that Grandma Rose was an adolescent before she ever got to come into town! 

Now, I am awed by what they did and how their life was.  I wish I'd had sense enough as a child to ask her questions about her life.  I really know nothing of her life before Wyoming.  I've heard stories of their homestead years but not from her point of view.  What was it like to live in a drafty log cabin on the Wyoming prairie?  How in the world did they provide food for all their children during the long winters?  Was she ever scared?  Did she ever have a moment to herself?  Did she have a chance to have fun or was her life always a struggle to keep up?  What about her faith?  How much contact did she have with her family in North Carolina?  Who helped her when she gave birth?  What was her grocery list like when my great-grandpa went to town maybe once or twice a year?  How did they make money?

So many questions.  Too late.

Do You Think of Yourself as an Ancestor?

This is my Grandpa Red, probably before he thought of himself as anybody's ancestor.

Grandpa Red eventually became the father of six children.  My mom, on the left, was the second child born to him and my Grandma Rose.  She probably didn't think of herself as an ancestor yet either.

One thing I'm happy about is that my Grandpa Red was still living when we had Maria.  She was just a baby when he died but I still cherish some special moments as I proudly presented my baby to him.  Grandpa Red was from Texas and no matter what you think of Texas (Mike wants to MESS with Texas...in case you don't know, they have signs there that say "Don't Mess With Texas!") you have to admit that some pretty colorful sayings originated there.  When Grandpa looked at my sweet baby he said, "She's prettier than a speckled pup under a brass wagon!"

I glowed with pride!

I've never seen a speckled pup under a brass wagon but I know without a doubt that it would be a pretty sight to behold.

I heard Grandpa say something about being an ancestor. 

I remember how strange that sounded because I thought ancestors had to be really old.

Of course, no one begins life really old, not even ancestors.

When I look at Sam I sometimes think of my Grandpa Red.  I was delighted when Sam, at about 6 weeks old, developed a delightful version of red hair.  We gave credit to Ben because he'd said, "I hope our baby gets red hair."  However, I expect that was a genetic gift from my Grandpa Red, passing through several generations to end up on Sam's head.  It makes me happy.

Maria made a sweet painting that hangs in Cordelia's room.

It is a tree with names on the branches, names of Cordelia's ancestors.

Everyone on that tree contributed to the genetics now carried by Cordy.

Mike's name is on that tree; my name is on that tree!

I was looking at Cordy the other day.  Mike was playing with her and they just looked so cute together.  I felt my heart getting all warm and mushy.  I told him later that I had to admit that when we were dating in high school I never once remember thinking about our future grandchildren.  

I never thought of myself as an ancestor in the making.

But, here I am, an ancestor...

...and I love it!