Old Coot called late yesterday afternoon. He was very chipper. I asked how he was doing and he said, "Doing great! You know, I was her caregiver for a year and a half and it was very tiring for me. It's a difficult job...to be a caregiver."
"I'm sure it wasn't too easy on her either. Having to go through those horrible treatments and knowing that she was dying and all."
"Yes, but you know the old saying, 'let the death bury the dead'"
"Yes, I know that saying. It comes from the Bible. Do you know the rest of the saying?"
"No."
"Jesus said,'but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.'
"Oh. I haven't done that, unless you count looking out at nature and proclaiming how beautiful it is."
As per usual, it is all about him.
=============
We chatted more. He had convinced her to take out a Reverse Mortgage on the home/property, so he gets to live there until he dies.
"I'm surprised she didn't leave it to her children."
"Why? It's none of their business."
Per usual come between wife and her kids.
"There were still mortgage payments and we couldn't live very easily with them. So we got the reverse mortgage."
"Did that work out well? I have wondered about reserve mortgages."
No I haven't.
"Yes. I put a new deck on the front and back, built a workshop for me...put in new walkway."
"Oh. You didn't put the money in an annuity to live on?"
"No, but with no mortgage payments, that helped with the monthly bills. You know I live in the present. No worries about the past or the future."
I see he got just what he wanted out of it.
==========
I said, "I was surprised...really surprised, when I read that she was so involved in her church. She was a Baptist...you're an Atheist...how did that work out?"
"I went to church with her....a couple of times. She went every Sunday and while she was gone, I puttered in my work shop. She didn't preach to me or try and convert me...she knew that wouldn't have worked. ha ha"
=========
Then the interesting part of the conversation began...
He said, "I was wondering...ah...I have a test for you...ah..just how young your mind still is. I thought it would be fun if we got together for a visit."
"Okay."
"I could drive down, we could go to a nice restaurant...not a fancy, expensive one...just a nice one...with good food. We could talk, then go back to your place and talk some more."
"Okay."
"Here's the test...to see how young your mind is...I could spend the night."
"Why? Can't you drive after dark?"
"Yes, I can drive perfectly fine."
"Well, I have no place for you to sleep."
"You don't have a bed?"
"Of course I have a bed. A lovely bed, with a four inch memory foam topper....that I share with no one but my two cats."
"I see. So you are like the "old cat lady"?"
I see what he is trying to do. Challenge me by inferring I am old and not open to new things.
"I'm eight years younger than you and just happen to have two cats."
"Oh. I just thought you were still young at heart and mind to be open to a shared bed. I wasn't proposing anything...well, you know...anything...just to sleep next to each other and listen to each other breathing."
oh, good grief! Does this mean that his "anything" still works? At 87 years old? UGH!
"Well, I am young at heart and young in mind, but...I am a lot smarter than you remember. Sharing a bed with ANYONE other than my cats, sounds like...not only a weird idea, but a stupid one. Something that would really mess up my content and stable life."
"Oh."
========
So that idea squelched, we chatted a bit more. Then he said, "Look at the time! We've talked for over an hour. It's six o'clock!"
"It's seven o'clock."
"Seven...no..I'm looking at the clock on the stove and it says six."
"We had a time change this morning. Daylight Saving time kicked in."
"It did? Why am I unaware of that?"
"I don't know...perhaps your mind isn't young enough to remember?"
Went right over his head.
"Do you realize how many clocks there are in this house. It's going to take me an hour to change them all!"
"Well, you better get to it."
"Yeah--we'll talk later...goodbye."
==========
So--my psychological experiment continues. I think I have him hooked into thinking I am interested in his life and concerned about him.
Don't worry. I can handle Old Coot. Ten years ago, just hearing his voice would have sent me into a panic attack. Now...there is going to be some reckoning. Some more remembering to see, the what and why.
....because I don't have anything better to do and this is beginning to be fun..........
Monday, March 12, 2018
Friday, March 9, 2018
Well, well, well...
The "Old Coot" sent a note requesting a phone call, so Tuesday afternoon, feeling adventurous, I called him. I think he was napping as it took him awhile to realize who it was.
I used a sympathetic tone and asked how he was doing. Did he feel "foggy brained". Could he concentrate. All those things we who have lost loved ones go through.
No--none of those. He was feeling fine. "You know, I have gone through so many losses and disconnections, that this is just another one."
Hm-mm.
His voice is still strong. He is still healthy--no prescriptions. AT 87?
Still disconnected from his 5 children and all his siblings, who he "thinks" have all died, but isn't sure.
Wait. What? His younger brother lived on the property next to him. I had heard that Old Coot had erected a "spite" fence between the properties, when he moved in with his last wife.
There are a lot of things that are strange. I did not ask about them, but am wondering.
He is still living on his dead wife's property and home. Why didn't that go to her children? Does he have a life lease?
The funeral bulletin he sent me, has a photo of him and her and his one son, but no photos of her and her children. She was married for 40 years to her first husband. If there are going to be photos, why isn't there one of her and her children?
She was in Hospice for the last two months of her life, or so the obituary stated. Did he spend each day with her? I rather doubt it. I think most probably, when she first got sick, he detached himself emotionally.
He referred to his family as "dysfunctional", which he never admitted to when we were married. I doubt he realizes that HE is the dysfunctional one. I always thought his siblings and kids were lovely people.
I think Old Coot is incapable of that kind of "bedrock" love that exists in (some) marriages. He "loves" intensely at the start of a relationship. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for his partner. So considerate, kind and sweet.
But the second there is the tiniest, most minute conflict, he goes into control mode. It then becomes all about him. This is probably an old habit to protect his feelings?
After all, he has been optimistic enough to marry 7 times and 6 of those didn't work out the way he first perceived. I do believe he put these women on a "perfect" pedestal and the second a chip of that pedestal fell, he didn't want to put the effort into fixing, what he perceived as damaged. He just wanted to smash it and go on with his life.
===========
I don't know if I want to meet him in person for a visit. I certainly am not going to go to visit at his wife's home. I would rather meet him on my turf.
Phone calls are easy. We shall see, what we shall see.
I used a sympathetic tone and asked how he was doing. Did he feel "foggy brained". Could he concentrate. All those things we who have lost loved ones go through.
No--none of those. He was feeling fine. "You know, I have gone through so many losses and disconnections, that this is just another one."
Hm-mm.
His voice is still strong. He is still healthy--no prescriptions. AT 87?
Still disconnected from his 5 children and all his siblings, who he "thinks" have all died, but isn't sure.
Wait. What? His younger brother lived on the property next to him. I had heard that Old Coot had erected a "spite" fence between the properties, when he moved in with his last wife.
There are a lot of things that are strange. I did not ask about them, but am wondering.
He is still living on his dead wife's property and home. Why didn't that go to her children? Does he have a life lease?
The funeral bulletin he sent me, has a photo of him and her and his one son, but no photos of her and her children. She was married for 40 years to her first husband. If there are going to be photos, why isn't there one of her and her children?
She was in Hospice for the last two months of her life, or so the obituary stated. Did he spend each day with her? I rather doubt it. I think most probably, when she first got sick, he detached himself emotionally.
He referred to his family as "dysfunctional", which he never admitted to when we were married. I doubt he realizes that HE is the dysfunctional one. I always thought his siblings and kids were lovely people.
I think Old Coot is incapable of that kind of "bedrock" love that exists in (some) marriages. He "loves" intensely at the start of a relationship. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for his partner. So considerate, kind and sweet.
But the second there is the tiniest, most minute conflict, he goes into control mode. It then becomes all about him. This is probably an old habit to protect his feelings?
After all, he has been optimistic enough to marry 7 times and 6 of those didn't work out the way he first perceived. I do believe he put these women on a "perfect" pedestal and the second a chip of that pedestal fell, he didn't want to put the effort into fixing, what he perceived as damaged. He just wanted to smash it and go on with his life.
===========
I don't know if I want to meet him in person for a visit. I certainly am not going to go to visit at his wife's home. I would rather meet him on my turf.
Phone calls are easy. We shall see, what we shall see.
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
What is this?
My sister came down. My microwave had died and she had one she wasn't using, so she brought it down for me. Her hubs Chuck is recovering from double hernia surgery, but Susan and I managed to get the heavy thing in the house, and my dead one in the back of the pick-up truck so she can take it back for their spring recycling thingie.
She said, "It's like I woke up one morning and every thing was different than the day before. I look different, I feel different, everything I have to do, seems to be such a big effort!"
I told her that I had experienced the same thing, but I found it happens about every five years with me.
At 60, I noticed that my body was changing its shape. I hadn't gained or lost weight, but was becoming thicker in the middle. My backside was flattening out. My skin losing tone and becoming crepey. My bust getting larger.
At 60, I noticed that my body was changing its shape. I hadn't gained or lost weight, but was becoming thicker in the middle. My backside was flattening out. My skin losing tone and becoming crepey. My bust getting larger.
Something changed when I hit 65. All of a sudden, I couldn't work in the gardens, as hard as I had the year before. All of a sudden, my hips went out. All of a sudden--it seemed.
Then, those things stayed that way for about 5 years.
Then at 70, all of a sudden I couldn't walk as far as I used too. My back hurt all the time.
Then 75 and I found I had lost the strength in my arms. I couldn't lift or carry heavy things anymore. I tended to walk "crooked", my balance was off. I had to walk up steps, one step at a time. I was getting age spots on my hands and the thick skin thingies (Keratinitis) all over my back.
Now, I am going through changes again...and it hasn't even been five years. I look in the mirror and I look much older than I did even last summer. My "apron", that roll of skin under my stomach that wants to lay on the tops of my thighs, seem to have gotten bigger. I notice when I walk, my left foot tends to turn out. I haven't gained weight, but I had to buy a new bra--one size larger.
Emotionally, every thing is an effort. I don't want to go anywhere--even family functions are an effort to get ready for, drive too and participate in. Too noisy. Too tiring. I am sooooo dreading my grandson's wedding this summer. A year ago, I had no problem with getting all dressed, with heels and the whole thing to attend my great granddaughter's christening. I had a great time.
Emotionally, every thing is an effort. I don't want to go anywhere--even family functions are an effort to get ready for, drive too and participate in. Too noisy. Too tiring. I am sooooo dreading my grandson's wedding this summer. A year ago, I had no problem with getting all dressed, with heels and the whole thing to attend my great granddaughter's christening. I had a great time.
My sister will turn 66 in two weeks. I told her, "The changes are going to continue. Plus all the changes you are feeling right now aren't going to go away. They just stay with you and in a few years, more changes are going to pile on top of them! It just keeps piling on until you are so tired you won't want to get outta your chair!"
I wondered if any of you have noticed this? One day you wake up and things are different than the day before. You get it figured out and go along with less things you can do and then, in a few years you wake up one morning and notice, there are new changes.
The good thing, we usually can adjust our lives to these changes. It just shocks me when the new ones pile on.
Saturday, March 3, 2018
March wind doth blow and we shall have snow and what will poor Robin do then, poor thing.
Craziest winter we have ever had.
We got 8" of snow here and yet my sister, who lives 20 miles north, only got 1". My cousin who lives 15 miles west, got 2". We must have been in one of those "snow" bands. Sunny yesterday and today, but when I went out to get the mail, I noticed the heavy snow had broken off two, fairly large Lilac bush branches.
At least we don't have Nor'Easters. High tidal water and flooding can be as devastating as fire. Both of them tear down houses. I wouldn't care for those strong winds battering at me for a long time either.
I went down to visit Pearl, as it was her 82nd birthday. She kept trying to tell me she is 83, but I finally convinced her that she was born on March 1, 1936. "Then what year did I get married?"
"1955. You and Merle eloped to Angola, Indiana."
The conversation continued like that for awhile. She asking me how old her kids were and was I sure she was born in 1936.
She has been diagnosed with early Stage II diabetes, as if we all didn't know that was coming on. She only had to take a pill, not injections. Then she said something that sort of stunned me.
"You know...this is my won fault."
"What's that?"
"The reason I can't walk. When my legs started paining, I quit walking. Every one told me I had to keep walking, but I just sat down and quit. The more I sat, the worse the pain got. They were all right. The less I walked, the less I could and now look at me."
I didn't give her the "I told you so", what good would that do? They had a ramp built from their back door down to their driveway. It's 2 years old. Pearl has never used it. She's afraid of it. So afraid, that if she does go out to get in the car, she still has to have Merle and her daughter take her down the 3 front steps--which is far more hazardous than the ramp.
==============
I haven't seen Dar in a coon's age. Almost a month. I have no idea what is going on over there and should probably walk on over for a visit. She is still in PT, as I see her leave twice a week, before 9:00. She's was always a walking fanatic, but I never see her out walking either.
Which reminds me--I never see myself out walking either. I count my weekly trips to Walmart, walking the length of the store as my exercise, but---another resolution to walk every day, once spring arrives.
==============
This genealogy I am trying to finish up--the one for my friend, is tough. They don't have e-mail, so every time I have a question I have to call or write.
I called twice--apparently her husband didn't recognize my name--although he does know who I am, and hung up the phone. So, I called back and when he answered, I quickly said, "May I speak to Liz."
I had two questions. The call lasted an hour! Every time I asked about a certain ancestor, that brought on a dissertation about their lives or their cousin's life, or maybe that Indian lady he had a child with.
"Was it that grandpa Richard, or the other one? Judy needs to know."
Liz is one of our School Gal Pals that comes to our luncheons, and usually dominates the conversation. She hasn't attended the last two, which has been kind of nice as we can all talk to each other.
She's mad at us now because we canceled our December lunch because of a big snow storm...one of the girls called Liz and told her and that we would not have another luncheon until January.
Well, wouldn't you know it, Liz went the next week and couldn't find us. Then she went the first Thursday in January--we meet on the second Thursday, and once again couldn't find us, SO..she thinks we are meeting in private and won't tell her where. Last week I sent her a note, with genealogy questions, but also the place we are meeting, next Thursday, directions, a map and a photo of what the place looks like. One of the other girls is going to call her the day before for another reminder.
=========
It's hard to see one friend's going downhill. I don't mean forgetful, not being able to come up with a certain word--that is happening to all of us, but I mean really----sliding down that slippery slope faster than I can keep up.
Now I feel the road falling away under my feet, at times too. New shows are coming on TV and if I don't write down the day/time/channel I will forget to watch. When I have to go into town, I write down my "map"--bank, post office, grocery store, Michael's. Not only do I do that so I won't forget, but I figure out where I have to go, the easiest route and no left turns. LOL
===========
I am filling up my March calendar. Hair cut on Monday. Lunch on Thursday.
Blood draw and doctor's appointment the next week. Yes and other places I need to stop on the days I go. I can't be wasting gas or my time. LOL
We got 8" of snow here and yet my sister, who lives 20 miles north, only got 1". My cousin who lives 15 miles west, got 2". We must have been in one of those "snow" bands. Sunny yesterday and today, but when I went out to get the mail, I noticed the heavy snow had broken off two, fairly large Lilac bush branches.
At least we don't have Nor'Easters. High tidal water and flooding can be as devastating as fire. Both of them tear down houses. I wouldn't care for those strong winds battering at me for a long time either.
I went down to visit Pearl, as it was her 82nd birthday. She kept trying to tell me she is 83, but I finally convinced her that she was born on March 1, 1936. "Then what year did I get married?"
"1955. You and Merle eloped to Angola, Indiana."
The conversation continued like that for awhile. She asking me how old her kids were and was I sure she was born in 1936.
She has been diagnosed with early Stage II diabetes, as if we all didn't know that was coming on. She only had to take a pill, not injections. Then she said something that sort of stunned me.
"You know...this is my won fault."
"What's that?"
"The reason I can't walk. When my legs started paining, I quit walking. Every one told me I had to keep walking, but I just sat down and quit. The more I sat, the worse the pain got. They were all right. The less I walked, the less I could and now look at me."
I didn't give her the "I told you so", what good would that do? They had a ramp built from their back door down to their driveway. It's 2 years old. Pearl has never used it. She's afraid of it. So afraid, that if she does go out to get in the car, she still has to have Merle and her daughter take her down the 3 front steps--which is far more hazardous than the ramp.
==============
I haven't seen Dar in a coon's age. Almost a month. I have no idea what is going on over there and should probably walk on over for a visit. She is still in PT, as I see her leave twice a week, before 9:00. She's was always a walking fanatic, but I never see her out walking either.
Which reminds me--I never see myself out walking either. I count my weekly trips to Walmart, walking the length of the store as my exercise, but---another resolution to walk every day, once spring arrives.
==============
This genealogy I am trying to finish up--the one for my friend, is tough. They don't have e-mail, so every time I have a question I have to call or write.
I called twice--apparently her husband didn't recognize my name--although he does know who I am, and hung up the phone. So, I called back and when he answered, I quickly said, "May I speak to Liz."
I had two questions. The call lasted an hour! Every time I asked about a certain ancestor, that brought on a dissertation about their lives or their cousin's life, or maybe that Indian lady he had a child with.
"Was it that grandpa Richard, or the other one? Judy needs to know."
Liz is one of our School Gal Pals that comes to our luncheons, and usually dominates the conversation. She hasn't attended the last two, which has been kind of nice as we can all talk to each other.
She's mad at us now because we canceled our December lunch because of a big snow storm...one of the girls called Liz and told her and that we would not have another luncheon until January.
Well, wouldn't you know it, Liz went the next week and couldn't find us. Then she went the first Thursday in January--we meet on the second Thursday, and once again couldn't find us, SO..she thinks we are meeting in private and won't tell her where. Last week I sent her a note, with genealogy questions, but also the place we are meeting, next Thursday, directions, a map and a photo of what the place looks like. One of the other girls is going to call her the day before for another reminder.
=========
It's hard to see one friend's going downhill. I don't mean forgetful, not being able to come up with a certain word--that is happening to all of us, but I mean really----sliding down that slippery slope faster than I can keep up.
Now I feel the road falling away under my feet, at times too. New shows are coming on TV and if I don't write down the day/time/channel I will forget to watch. When I have to go into town, I write down my "map"--bank, post office, grocery store, Michael's. Not only do I do that so I won't forget, but I figure out where I have to go, the easiest route and no left turns. LOL
===========
I am filling up my March calendar. Hair cut on Monday. Lunch on Thursday.
Blood draw and doctor's appointment the next week. Yes and other places I need to stop on the days I go. I can't be wasting gas or my time. LOL
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Just a Note
Yesterday, sunny and 65 degrees. Window and screen door open. Raked my front lawn.
Today, 7" of snow, so far.
This is Pure Michigan.
Today, 7" of snow, so far.
This is Pure Michigan.
March coming in like a Lion
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Intrigue
Hm-mm.
My 2nd ex-husband has mailed me a small letter.
He thinks it might be nice to "meet for coffee" and visit.
I am intrigued.
This is the man who abused me physically and emotionally. The man who's 7th wife died a few months ago.
I am intrigued.
I haven't seen nor heard from him in 27 years.
I am intrigued.
Would he expect the same woman he knew back then? Wouldn't it be kind of fun to show him the
much different, strong, carefree woman I am today?
Is he interested? Wouldn't it be fun to show him the same open minded, happy, smiling woman he knew 30 years ago, without all the neediness?
I am intrigued.
He's 87 years old. What could he do or say? Nothing that could possibly affect me in any way. I am not afraid of him in any way, shape or form. I am not interested in him (or any man), but he might not know that.
"Well, Hi, Don. What have you been doing these last thirty years, other than getting married and divorced...and married and divorced?"
Hm-mm. I am intrigued. It might be fun.
In the least, it would make an interesting blog post. HAH!!!
My 2nd ex-husband has mailed me a small letter.
He thinks it might be nice to "meet for coffee" and visit.
I am intrigued.
This is the man who abused me physically and emotionally. The man who's 7th wife died a few months ago.
I am intrigued.
I haven't seen nor heard from him in 27 years.
I am intrigued.
Would he expect the same woman he knew back then? Wouldn't it be kind of fun to show him the
much different, strong, carefree woman I am today?
Is he interested? Wouldn't it be fun to show him the same open minded, happy, smiling woman he knew 30 years ago, without all the neediness?
I am intrigued.
He's 87 years old. What could he do or say? Nothing that could possibly affect me in any way. I am not afraid of him in any way, shape or form. I am not interested in him (or any man), but he might not know that.
"Well, Hi, Don. What have you been doing these last thirty years, other than getting married and divorced...and married and divorced?"
Hm-mm. I am intrigued. It might be fun.
In the least, it would make an interesting blog post. HAH!!!
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Stunning!
As you know, my genealogy research findings sometimes stun me.
One of my clients is related to William the Conqueror. A couple of months later, in another genealogy, I suddenly, around 8 generations "up", start recognizing names. Come to find out, she too related to William the Conqueror. These two women, that I knew, but they didn't know each other, are related from different sides of their family.
I suppose if we could trace our roots back far enough, we'd all be related, right?
Another genealogy found that on both sides of the family and the "in betweens", they were all the same nationality. They lived in the Netherlands and married neighbors--so they were Dutch. When they came to America, they moved into Dutch settlements and married neighbors. This went on, generation after generation. I couldn't get over that, as most of us have many nationalities in our lineage.
The genealogy I finished in January, showed a family where three of their youngest sons were killed in the same battle, on the same day, in the Civil War. I got teared up over that one. They also had several ancestor's that fought in the Revolutionary War--one with such heroic valor that he is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Some dying in battle and buried in mass grave at the battle site.
Now--I think I have found the ultimate. My client's 8th Great Great Grandmother was the last woman to be hung and killed at the Salem Massachusetts Witch trials. September 22, 1692. The last.
When she and her husband came to America, they were given a small piece of land by the government to settle on. When her husband died, she inherited the property. She lived as a widow for 21 years, with only a small garden and a cow to sustain her.
They had had 8 children, five had died either at birth, in infancy, or young children.
She sometimes begged the neighbor's for food. Then there came along a wealthy man who wanted to buy her small piece of land. She refused to sell because after she died, it was to go to her remaining living son.
How to get the land? Buy witnesses who would proclaim her a Witch. If she were to confess, she would be beaten and jailed, her life spared and the land would be sold to whomever wanted it. If she were to deny and be killed, the land would remain in her family.
Neighbor's told that if they refused her begging she cast a spell on them and they were harmed. Young people said that when she passed by, if she looked at them, they got sick. Because so many of her children had died, that too proved her to be a witch.
Because she had been widowed so long and never remarried, meant men were afraid of her because she was a witch. One testified that she repelled his advances.
For 6 weeks she was jailed and brought to trial every day. She denied. Witnesses were brought. She denied. So, she was hung, her body laid on the ground at Gallow Hill until it rotted, then thrown in a mass grave. Her son was able to keep the land.
2 weeks later, all those jailed were cleared and released by the State government. There were no more trials or hangings after her group.
In 2013, 309 years later, on Halloween, the government stated none of the people killed were witches. Their names were cleared a memorial monument with all their names, erected in the Salem Cemetery.
I wish I had known about this. My Jennifer lived in Boston and then Salem for 7 years. I traveled there often. I've seen Gallows Hill and the cemetery and heard the stories. If I had only known of my clients Great Grandmother, I would have taken photos and studied more about her life. As it is, luckily, on the internet and in one woman's blog, her lifestory was told.
This is going to shock my client, who is also a life long friend. Give her something to talk about at our Gal Pal luncheons!
==============
That's why I find genealogy so fascinating and become obsessed with these ancestor's. They went through things that would kill us. I think most of us get our strengths from those hard working, never quitting ancestor's of ours.
My Great Grandma, lived just down the road (where my sister lives now). Helped her 3 male cousins homestead in South Dakota. Carried a gun on her hip to kill the rattlesnakes she came across while out plowing up the land. When she came to Michigan and married my Great Grandpa, she helped clear the land here too. She was still tending her garden and playing the piano on her 90th birthday. Even at age 96, when she became ill, she refused to lay down in her bed. She stayed propped up with pillows against the high head board. Staying like that for a month, until the day she slumped over and was dead. Who cared for her--changed her diapers, bathed her, fed her? Her daughter-in-law, my Grandma.
These before us worked hard, had children, year, after year--always a baby on the way and many of those babies died. My Great Great Aunt had a 2 year old daughter and a 17 year old son, died on the same day in 1918, mere hours apart, from the flu.
Now--we complain if the power goes out for a couple of hours, if we get snowed in. We are such wimps!!! If we had to step into their lives, the way it was then, the way we are now,...we wouldn't last a year!
One of my clients is related to William the Conqueror. A couple of months later, in another genealogy, I suddenly, around 8 generations "up", start recognizing names. Come to find out, she too related to William the Conqueror. These two women, that I knew, but they didn't know each other, are related from different sides of their family.
I suppose if we could trace our roots back far enough, we'd all be related, right?
Another genealogy found that on both sides of the family and the "in betweens", they were all the same nationality. They lived in the Netherlands and married neighbors--so they were Dutch. When they came to America, they moved into Dutch settlements and married neighbors. This went on, generation after generation. I couldn't get over that, as most of us have many nationalities in our lineage.
The genealogy I finished in January, showed a family where three of their youngest sons were killed in the same battle, on the same day, in the Civil War. I got teared up over that one. They also had several ancestor's that fought in the Revolutionary War--one with such heroic valor that he is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Some dying in battle and buried in mass grave at the battle site.
Now--I think I have found the ultimate. My client's 8th Great Great Grandmother was the last woman to be hung and killed at the Salem Massachusetts Witch trials. September 22, 1692. The last.
When she and her husband came to America, they were given a small piece of land by the government to settle on. When her husband died, she inherited the property. She lived as a widow for 21 years, with only a small garden and a cow to sustain her.
They had had 8 children, five had died either at birth, in infancy, or young children.
She sometimes begged the neighbor's for food. Then there came along a wealthy man who wanted to buy her small piece of land. She refused to sell because after she died, it was to go to her remaining living son.
How to get the land? Buy witnesses who would proclaim her a Witch. If she were to confess, she would be beaten and jailed, her life spared and the land would be sold to whomever wanted it. If she were to deny and be killed, the land would remain in her family.
Neighbor's told that if they refused her begging she cast a spell on them and they were harmed. Young people said that when she passed by, if she looked at them, they got sick. Because so many of her children had died, that too proved her to be a witch.
Because she had been widowed so long and never remarried, meant men were afraid of her because she was a witch. One testified that she repelled his advances.
For 6 weeks she was jailed and brought to trial every day. She denied. Witnesses were brought. She denied. So, she was hung, her body laid on the ground at Gallow Hill until it rotted, then thrown in a mass grave. Her son was able to keep the land.
2 weeks later, all those jailed were cleared and released by the State government. There were no more trials or hangings after her group.
In 2013, 309 years later, on Halloween, the government stated none of the people killed were witches. Their names were cleared a memorial monument with all their names, erected in the Salem Cemetery.
I wish I had known about this. My Jennifer lived in Boston and then Salem for 7 years. I traveled there often. I've seen Gallows Hill and the cemetery and heard the stories. If I had only known of my clients Great Grandmother, I would have taken photos and studied more about her life. As it is, luckily, on the internet and in one woman's blog, her lifestory was told.
This is going to shock my client, who is also a life long friend. Give her something to talk about at our Gal Pal luncheons!
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That's why I find genealogy so fascinating and become obsessed with these ancestor's. They went through things that would kill us. I think most of us get our strengths from those hard working, never quitting ancestor's of ours.
My Great Grandma, lived just down the road (where my sister lives now). Helped her 3 male cousins homestead in South Dakota. Carried a gun on her hip to kill the rattlesnakes she came across while out plowing up the land. When she came to Michigan and married my Great Grandpa, she helped clear the land here too. She was still tending her garden and playing the piano on her 90th birthday. Even at age 96, when she became ill, she refused to lay down in her bed. She stayed propped up with pillows against the high head board. Staying like that for a month, until the day she slumped over and was dead. Who cared for her--changed her diapers, bathed her, fed her? Her daughter-in-law, my Grandma.
These before us worked hard, had children, year, after year--always a baby on the way and many of those babies died. My Great Great Aunt had a 2 year old daughter and a 17 year old son, died on the same day in 1918, mere hours apart, from the flu.
Now--we complain if the power goes out for a couple of hours, if we get snowed in. We are such wimps!!! If we had to step into their lives, the way it was then, the way we are now,...we wouldn't last a year!
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