A Gift

Today would have been my grandmother's 85th Birthday.

She was a very special person and her untimely death in 2008 was devastating to family and friends.

Towards the end of her life, my grandmother pieced together a memoir that she titled My September Song. Although I have read this memoir from cover to cover, I still pick it up from time to time to read a chapter to my husband or simply to hear her voice again. To bring her back to life, if you will. Since today was her birthday (and yesterday, what would have been my grandparents 61st wedding anniversary!) I wanted so badly to hear her voice again! I opened the book, admired a picture of my young grandma Val on the left, then looked to the page on the right- The Preface- and read it again for what must be the thirtieth time.

It reads:

     I have had a wonderful life! Mine was a very happy childhood in unusually pleasant places, thanks to my amazing parents. Now I want to write some stories for you, cherished children Brad, Ron, Laura, amazing grandchildren Matthew, Sarah, Nathan, Jessica, Kristina, Carolyn; dear greatgrands Chase and Colby. Maybe even next generations will be reading this. I hope you will enjoy knowing and imagining more about your family and part of what makes you YOU!
     Grandson Matthew made a computer for me, as his dad Brad gave his grandfather a recorder. Soon afterward I started to write short stories about events in my childhood.
     Needing encouragement, over several years I've joined in two different Life Story groups with others to share writings and make suggestions. Somehow a busy life keeps getting in the way of writing, just as it did for my parents. At the beginning of this year 2008 I have time to edit and organize my stories. Focusing is hard because reading, gardening, walking and swimming are really my favorite activities! But here goes.
     Daddy and Mother often told me about their childhoods. Daddy tucked us into bed with stories of growing up on a huge wheat farm, and Mother described how her mother and father met, and often added incidents about her life in high school. They both frequently told stories of their college life. After I left home, and even more since they are both gone, I have often wished that I had those stories to read.
     My dad was a storyteller more than a writer. He delighted in telling stories to us children about his life on the farm, embellished with lots of interesting details of adventures with his favorite horse. When our oldest son Brad asked his grandfather to record them for baby Matthew, Daddy enthusiastically completed the "Dewey Stories." Thos tapes are precious!
     Mother was an excellent writer. I encouraged her to write about her parents and grandparents. What she told me about them was fascinating. She could trace basic facts about generations back to a cousin of Bonnie Prince Charlie of Scotland. Only when she was over eighty years old and her handwriting too shaky to write much did she try to tell me details. That was usually while I was fixing dinner and getting ready to go to work.
     My second-hand memory is not vivid, and I did not know my grandparents very well. We lived two thousand miles away from them when I was growing up and only saw them every four years. Mother did chart family records of birth and death dates, dating back five generations to 1752. That is a treasure to build on. Daddy's family records from Germany are not extensive.
     I am more interested in knowing what was important to my ancestors, why they came to the United States, moved to other states, what work they did, and glimpses of personality. Those glimpses can only be inferred from most genealogy sources.
     I've written from my perspective, hoping that one of you will be curious to read and sometime write your own stories.

Val Hafner
Buena Park, California
March, 2008


And then it dawned on me, with this blog, I am doing just that.