Tag: dead relatives

Who am I? RESULTS!

by Karen, posted in family, He and me, health, no fear

So, the results are in! No big surprises to be found here. I am happy to know what I am made of, so to speak. I am grateful to my husband for giving me this gift. No Atlantean heritage in this mix. No Lilliputian. Just about a 50/50 split between Southern Europe (Italian) and Northwestern European (Irish/Scottish/Welsh) and a few other things thrown in.

 

Here’s what I didn’t expect: today I got an email informing me of relatives of mine that they have found. About a dozen fourth cousins. If they are fourth cousins (otherwise known as first cousins twice removed, per the email), are they really related to me?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Like, my coworkers might be more closely related to me.

Or, the crows outside my window.

Just a thought.

Faith, Hope, and Charity

by Karen, posted in Angels, family

20140215-203534.jpgMy grandmother Emily, my mother’s mother, was the only girl in her family of five. Yep; she had four, count ’em, four brothers. At least, that was what I thought when I was a girl. When I got older, she told me that she actually had three sisters. Triplets. They were named Faith, Hope, and Charity. Whether it was because they were so little when they were born, or that the family lacked enough cradles to accommodate three infants at the same time, they were bedded in three bureau drawers.

Unfortunately, their lives were short. They only lived about three months, I believe, when they succumbed to pneumonia. When she told me the story, I thought: Oh! that is so sad! Oh! There were really four boys and four girls in her family!

I also thought: Oh! I would have so many more cousins if they had lived!

Anyway, I thought a lot about those three short lives. I loved their names. I loved the story about the bureau drawers. I wanted to honor them in some way. Here’s what I do: Every time I knit something, I knit “Faith, Hope, and Charity” into the piece by repeating their names as I knit or purl, so that many times over I have wished these thoughts for the recipient of whatever I am knitting. I hope it makes them feel amazing when they wear it. I hope my triplet grand-aunts in heaven know that even though their lives were brief, all these years later, I am thinking of them and they are making a difference in my life, as well as (this is my hope) in the lives of the people who wear the FHC articles.

Angels at the beach

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, books, family, good grief, local fun, Midlife Crisis, relationships

I was walking at the beach with my daughter and my husband the other day. I was thinking about how big she’d gotten, which led to thoughts of her at different ages throughout the years, and how I received that sign from my dad that I was pregnant with her.
Of course, thinking about one dead relative inevitably (for me) leads to thoughts about other dead relatives.  Wells Beach reminds me of Nantasket Beach in the 1970’s, and Nantasket beach reminds me of my grandmother. She always took me to the beach (ocean) when I was growing up, and I always think of her when I am near it, so granted, thoughts of Nana had been hovering there in the back of my mind for the past hour or so.

After we finished our beach walk we went to Forbes to get some lunch. I was telling my husband how I had been trying to get to Forbes all summer but something kept coming up and I never made it. I decided to take it as a sign that it was because I was supposed to be there this day in particular. He smiled at me, indulgently. He is used to me ascribing meaning to things that he does not.

As we were finishing up our lunch, I suddenly became aware of the conversation at the table behind me: “Nana, are you happy here at the beach? You’re an angel!”

I swear to God.

I felt a huge surge of emotion as the tears welled up and spilled forth (zero to 180 in a millisecond!).

I just finished a pretty good book that has an angel subplot: Pictures of You  by Caroline Leavitt. Check it out!

Pennies from heaven

by Karen, posted in family, good grief, relationships, tweens

Ever heard that our loved ones that have died sometimes come back to visit and when they do, they often leave clues for us that they are/have been here?

There’s even a poem written about it!

Well, this week I’ve found pennies on the floor in my house unexpectedly on three separate occasions. It reminded me of another time that I found a penny, years ago, about 13 to be more exact. My husband and I had recently decided to have a second child and I was wondering if I was pregnant. I was running out to pick up a pizza, preoccupied with this thought (about the baby, not the pizza). I pulled up to our favorite (at the time) pizza place, B&F Pizza.

As I got out of the car, I noticed a penny on the ground. I bent down to pick it up and for just a moment I thought: I wonder if this is a sign? Then I looked at the date on that penny: 1937, the year my father was born. Was this Dad telling me that I our next baby was on the way?

Shortly thereafter I did discover that I was pregnant.

Do you think it was a sign?