I have been thinking about my family history and wishing I had asked more questions and paid attention to statements made. I do not know very much about my father's family. I only know my dad's mom's maiden name. I do not remember whether Grandpa or Grandma had brothers or sisters and names. Wish I had paid more attention. I remember various cousins on that side of the family but how we all "fit" together I don't know. I remember going to an "aunt's" house but how they were related I am not sure. Do not even know birthplace to begin a search. I know of course Dad's brother and his sisters and their kids, but beyond that I do not have a clue. At a special 50th anniversary for my sister I made contact with some cousins from that side of the family that I do remember and need to follow up with them and get the information they have. I don't remember many stories from Dad about his childhood either. One story was why Dad did not like marshmellows. He and a friend cut school had a couple of large bags of marshmellows and that was all they had to eat that day. When he got home he was sick from all the "sugar" and then got a leather strap used on him for cutting school. His father believed in strict displine. Dad also was a bit of a "bad boy" he made a rubber band gun and shot rubber bands at people he did not like. He also made some metal slugs and used it at a neighbor hood store to play pinball as long as he could. He roller skated around the neightbor hood. Near his home was a business with a loading dock. Dad and his friends would skate off this dock. Back in those days they did not know about knee or elbow pads or helmets. One time Dad fell and landed with his leg under him and his butt landed right on top of his foot. He could hardly walk but did not tell his dad because he knew he would get in trouble. He had horrible back problems as an adult and always felt that fall probably had something to do with his back.
As a child, I spent more time with Mom's mom. Grandpa passed when I was 9 so Grannie was alone and we liked to go keep her company. Grandpa was a "fun" grandpa which we all liked. He was that way growing up and a gambler too. Grannie loved him but was not happy with his habit of risking his pay when they were raising a family of 7 during the depression. Grandpa was a mailman and also a crossing guard for the nearby school. All the kids called him "Grandpa". He was well thought of and died too young. Grannie made the best jelly. She would take several fruit juices and combine them to make a "mixed" fruit jelly and it was delicious. Her elderberry and black raspberry jelly was good too. She told me several stories but now I cannot remember all the details and I wish I could. One story she told was how her grandparents on both sides did not like each other and did not want her parents to marry. Her parents were having financial struggles so one lived in Indiana and one in Ohio so he could find work. I do not remember which one lived in which state. However, I do remember Grannie saying the parents of one and the sisters of the other intercepted the letters they each sent. Grannie's mom thought her husband was not sending any money because there were no letters. Grannie's dad thought his wife did not care or was not appreciating the money sent. Because of all this turmoil, Grannie's parents divorced which at that time was a horrible thing. So Grannie's grandparents announced his death in the paper. He did not die at that time they did that for appearances. It was many years later that Grannie found out her father did not die and that she had a half sister. I wish I knew all the details and Grannie probably told me, but now many, many years later, I cannot remember it all. I think this is why Grannie was close to Grandpa's mother Great Grandma Elizabeth. She had a good relationship with her and things were always strained with her family. She talked more of Grandpa's family then her own. I guess that is a good thing about blogging it is an opportunity to record our thoughts, history and stories that might be lost or forgotten.