My Grandpa Nathan died the 15 of November. I was able to keep my head though out the visitation and part of the funeral mass, but when it was my turn to stand up and say the petitions. I cried so hard that the Father Danda and a cousin, Greg Orschell, came to my side. Greg ended up saying the petitions for me after asking me if I wanted him to do it. I said yes, then he whispered fine, but you have to stay here with me. At the only thing good about a catholic funeral, the food (Nun food to be exact), another cousin told me I did a perfect job, that even the people that hadn't cried could no longer hold it in when I feel to pieces. Maybe I did do a good job, letting my sorrow out and giving permission for the others to cry with me. My Grandfather may not have been perfect or the most loving at times, but he was still my grandpa.
In actual family history news. I got my grubby hands on a 3 1/2 floppy disk that my Great Aunt gave to all of her kids...the best part non of them actually know what is on it! Now I just have to find some way to open it, I think a trip to the library would be good. Also, I managed to get the family history book that my Great Grandmother started in 1967 or so with great stories like:
He had seven girls then the fist boy was named Philip-he died. The next two boys (both named Philip) died also. He asked his brother George what could be wrong. He said name him something else. The next boy was named George and lived.At the moment I am transcribing the tree and all of the notes that go along with it.
I hope you had a great Thanksgiving!
We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies. ~Shirley Abbott