Family History Fun

My third cousin once removed, Noel, posted some pictures on Facebook today of her great-grandmother, the one that I knew is related to me because she is a Holdaway.

Noel was in my ward in North Orem, and we discovered our relationship thanks to one of Nancy's Hancock Hummer articles, the one about our Mayflower ancestors. David happened to mention that story in elder's quorum one day, and Noel's husband was like, "Hey that is my wife's family, too!" And then, a couple of days later, Noel posted some Mary Elizabeth pictures of the various Mary Elizabeth's in her family tree, the women who she grew to love through stories about them and so named her first daughter Mary Elizabeth. (And that young lady is now 16! It hardly seems possible!) And I saw them and was all "Those are MY Mary Elizabeths, too!"

Nancy and Noel are both tall and slender. Both generally have long brown hair, though I think Nancy's is slightly lighter than Noel's. When Nancy lived in Utah, too, they were taking turns being pregnant, and causing a lot of confusion as various neighbors would see the one they didn't know and say "You had your baby already?" or "I thought you already had your baby!" It was quite comical. Noel's family tree and mine have a complicated relationship, connecting on more than one line. So I suppose that Nancy and Noel, though fourth cousins, have a right to look alike, because they do share quite a bit of matching DNA.

It goes like this:
Noel -- Sister Ericksen -- Nathan H. .Johnson -- Murl H. Johnson -- Andrew Holdaway -- Lucinda Haws
Nancy -- Myrna Layton -- Arnold Conrad ====Arthur Conrad-----Mary E. H. Conrad -- Lucinda Haws
Perfect fourth cousins for Nancy and Noel. (and all my other kids and Noel, obviously, but only Nancy is Noel's doppelganger)

So, seeing Noel's pictures and being able to fill in the names got me interested, and I wanted to trace our families to see exactly how we are connected on this particular line--this is the line of our closest connection. I was not sure exactly how the generations fit together, because that cool Facebook App that I once could use to do that...is it even still there? I don't know. All kinds of techy things make me feel old and slightly dementia-affected! And I was also too lazy to walk downstairs and get my genealogy book, so I just looked up people on my laptop until I got all the information needed to complete the parallel generations.

Along the way, I found this: http://dianestokoe.com/Publications/holdaway/marymurljohnson.pdf

And that was a good read for tonight! Nancy now has a whole bunch of ancestor Benjamin stories to tell: the Chief of the clan in the Highlands of Scotland; the supporter of Bonnie Prince Charlie, the one who grew up speaking Welsh in Wales and then moved to the US, dying young.  I had never heard those stories before!  Since Patrick loves Wales, I told him the stories. And Josie, our Welsh speaker, will so enjoy hearing about them when she gets back home from her tour!

And then there was the story of my dad's two second cousins and their illicit love affair and all the heartbreak surrounding it. All of which my dad, growing up in Canada, was completely oblivious about!

Someone old, a book borrowed, someone blue

I am reading “Still Alice” by Lisa Genova.  I can’t remember if it was on Bridget’s list of recommended books, or Crystal’s—but somewhere, somehow, I got the idea to read it, so I put a hold on it, and it was delivered to me on Friday. What a beautiful book. I cry while reading it, a lot. I do my usual reading pattern…chapter one, chapter ten, chapter two, chapter nine, chapter three, four, five, then randomly open somewhere around seven, then read the ending again, then back to where I left off.  I like to know the end from the beginning. I wish that life could be like that sometimes, and other times I am really grateful that I don’t know ahead of time. Some of things I have had to do in life, I would have bailed if I had known they were coming. And yet I got through them somehow, so I guess they were worth the pain and sorrow.

In the book, Alice has early onset Alzheimer’s. She is diagnosed a few months after her fiftieth birthday. We are with her as she slowly loses her mind, her self, her profession, her relationships.  She has the gene mutation (there are three known gene mutations, others that probably exist but are not known)—she and her husband are both Harvard professors; she a psychologist, he a biologist. They get the genetic testing, of course. They have good insurance and also plenty of money.  Their children are told. The doctor and the lawyer both get the genetic testing; the actress doesn’t. She would rather not know. Their son, the doctor, does not have the gene. The lawyer, who with her husband is involved in IVF trying to have a baby, does have the gene. Once again, they have the money to have genetic testing done on their little embryos, too, so only mutant-free embryos are implanted in her. So, even though she knows that she WILL have EOA like her mom, her children are safe.

I do not quite know how to describe how this book resounds with me.  I think that I am just feeling really very burdened by life right now.  My sister has been having cancer treatments for a cancer that is genetic. She knows she has the gene mutation. Our other sister got the genetic testing and she does not have the gene. I don’t know what to do. Because you see, I don’t have TIME to have cancer. I have to be the breadwinner. I have to work. I have to be healthy. I have to. My husband earns about one fourth of what I earn.  Without my income, there is not enough money to pay for our needs, let alone our medical bills. It is a huge, crushing burden.

Especially now, when I all but hate my job. Like hate it. I mean, there are still parts of the job that I like, but overall, the job is a burden in itself.  Because I just feel too old and worn out for playing faculty games. And, like Alice in the book, as she fades away from Harvard and all the pomp and circumstance, the academic game playing just starts to lose all meaning. I literally do not care how smart people are or what grades they get. I care about how happy people are. Are they happy? Do they feel loved? Do they have an outlet for their creativity? These are the things that matter to me, but I feel like they are the things that matter the least of all on this particular, and probably most, university campuses.  I feel like the struggle to be the best, which is after all what the American dream really is about, is all that matters.

The American dream is not life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It is all about being the BEST. The smartest. The richest. The top of the mountain, better than you. Better than everyone. And I feel that pressure to prove that I am good enough, which in itself is not good enough, because only perfect will do. Or at least exceptional.  And I oh so very much dislike it.

I do love my interactions with people, with faculty and staff and students. But I have the academic pressure to be the best.  And I am so tired of having to work so hard.  I know that my life is peachy keen compared to the lives of others, but I am so tired of working so hard at work and working so hard at home. Knowing, as I do, that this is what I must do until I am at least seventy, and older than that if I can get away with it.  Probably 72 or even 75. And then I will just drop dead.  My mother died at 75. She had not had to work outside the home, although she worked harder than anyone I know, especially all those years of taking care of my dad during his 23 years of ill health. But they got to go on a mission. And they had enough money, and they were in Canada, so they had health care. A mission is not in my future, and neither is very much money.   

My life will be just like my dad always told me, “Life is hard, and then you die.” Yup. That is life. 

So, I just am worried about a lot of things.  Like, I really want a different job. I need a job that pays as well as the job I am in, but that does not have my job on the line if I do not publish, or present myself well enough on the faculty profile system. And it is oh so frustrating because I KNOW, I do not think, or imagine, or wonder, I KNOW that people higher on the food chain get to a point where they are above reproach. (Like, no one even reads their faculty profile. If they even bother to write it.) And that they hold the careers of all of the rest of us in their hands, and the oppression that makes me feel is really a heavy feeling.

And sometimes, I just don’t want to be a part of it. I think of my brother saying that universities are one of those places where the veneer of civilization has worn the thinnest, and I think it is true.  Our particular administration at the college level is very top-down, very hierarchical. There is a pretended interest in collegiality and fairness, but I do not believe for a minute that it is real; which is why I say pretended interest.  So I worry a lot.

Jenny Phillips Fireside

David is in the Jenny Phillips Choir. His obligation is to attend a few mandatory rehearsals, but mostly to learn the music on his own. Then he is obligated to attend a minimum of four firesides with the group. I went with David to his first performance tonight, which was at the Sharon Park Stake. They were doing the trek fireside, to help the people gear up for trek.

I was sitting with another set of parents, but their daughter was only 17. But she did not look that age; she looked older. But it was kind of funny when I said I was there to watch my son and she asked how old he was and I said 31. Compared to 17. I found it a bit funny. (Most of the choir members are obviously adults, as in like over 30, so I am not sure why the age issue even came up.)

Then I got a bit worried, because Josie is in California with the Young Ambassadors, also probably putting on a fireside, but she had a really bad headache. I hope that it stopped. I was praying for her and rooting for her.

The fireside was good, and David sounded good. And by that I mean, that I did not hear anyone who sounded bad, so he must have sounded good. Since he was singing with a choir, his voice was not supposed to stand out, so it seemed to go well. They all blended nicely.

Jenny Phillips is a bit of a blonde for sure.  I loved that she told funny stories on herself. Like, when she was in High School, her parents gave her an old clunker of a station wagon to drive around in. While she was gassing up one day, a cool red convertible pulled in , and she realized it was a guy she thought was cute, and she got distracted from what she was doing. She had put the nozzle in the car, but then got all worried about how to attract the guy's attention. She was thinking maybe she could time it so she went in the building at the same time as him. Well, her plan didn't work, so she got in her car to drive away. She heard a weird clunking noise, but thought, oh well...this car always clunks.  And then she looked in her side mirror and realized that she had driven away with the nozzle still in her car. So she drove back to the gas station, and there was gas pouring out of the pump and a major mess! So...she attracted some attention to herself, but not the kind of attention she had hoped to attract!

Another story: she was out with her kids (she has five) doing a whole list of errands, and she had two left: ten packages to mail, and a whole pile of library books to return.  So she drove to the library, up to the book chute, and started putting things in. She turns back to the car, and her son says, "Mom, why did you just put all of your packages in the book chute?"  So she had to go into the library and beg for her packages back so she could mail them.  I don't know what she was thinking as she stood there putting them into the chute one at a time, since they were big packages that would not fit any other way...

And last of all, she and her husband had been planning a trip to Brazil for months. They were planning their program, and working with Brazilians on the program, and it was all set.  The morning of the flight, they were all ready, running a bit late, taking their kids to drop off at the grandparents for the duration. When they finally got to the ticket counter, the lady said, "Where is your visa?" Jenny said, "What visa? We are going to Brazil. I am afraid we are going to be late. I need to get on that plane" The ticket lady said, "You are not getting on that plane without a visa." Jenny said, "No, I NEED to get on that plane." The lady said, "You are not getting on that plane without a visa." Finally, as Jenny kept arguing, she was asked to step aside. So someone else could explain to her that, really, Brazil requires a visa. Jenny was very embarrassed not to have known that. She had traveled to 18 countries, but either you didn't need a visa, or you could just buy them at the airport.  So...she had to call Brazil, and plans had to be changed. It was very embarrassing.

I am sure that Jenny's point was not to tell all her embarrassing stories. What does it say about me that those are what I remember best? I just like a good story.

On a more serious note, she said, we were not sent to this earth to spend all our time watching other people break commandments, on a screen.  That made sense to me. WE need to LIVE our LIVES.

So...fun night. David and I played Rummikube and Scrabble when we got back. I have not played Scrabble for too long. I missed it. I had awesome words. Like shuffle. I seriously got a seven letter word!  However, David still won. But it was fun.

PS. This I just read on Facebook, but since I like funny stories, I am going to copy it here. So I belong to the Primary Choristers Facebook group, and one of the members, Darla Lee, wrote this today:
"I am brand new to my calling as Chorister. Today was my first day. During the first song of younger kids' singing time, a bird came flying through the door! After smacking into the windows a few times, and teachers trying to catch it, and children screaming, and the Primary president instructing the children: "Don't let it peck you in the head!"...it proceeded to land on my head! Wow! Welcome to Primary! I guess it will get easier from here on??"  Ahaha!

Memories

My friend Carrie posted this on Facebook:

When in primary, it's always a good policy to accept the birthday sunglasses and the birthday licorice graciously, and without complaint, even when your birthday is, in fact, in July.

Apparently her Sunbeam age son got mixed up between January and July! It's an understandable mistake...

It reminded me of this:

Memory #1

We moved to Alberta in 1983. First we lived in a six plex on the north side of Raymond, a block north of Aunt Celia's house. Then we bought (with the help of my parents) our house on Highway 52, and moved there that summer.  So, since even though Raymond is small it has a lot of wards, we were in a new ward.  We met in the so-called chocolate church, which is now the Raymond town hall, library, and theatre.

It was one of our first Sundays in the ward. We met in the chapel, the part that is now the theatre. The primary leader (I happen to remember that it was Andrea Bourne--she was the chorister) asked all the children with August birthdays to come up so we could sing to them.  So Kelli got up, and motioned Abbi to come up too. (I was sitting in the back holding baby David. I was like shaking my head, no, but Kelli did not notice.And I was probably nursing David which is probably why I just sat there, and didn't go and physically stop the girls.) I saw that Kelli and Abbi were having a little battle of wills as Kelli motioned for Abbi to come up, and Abbi shook her head no...but Kelli was older, so finally Abbi was like "Okay, if you say so..."

And so they were sung to!  August and October do sound similar, right? Even more than January and July!

Memory #2

I do not know exactly when this happened, but it was before I was pregnant with Josie, so it was earlier than August 1993.  I don't remember the day or time, but I do remember that I was driving on the road that leads to the one-way bridge over the river in Port Coquitlam. I was waiting on the west side while the westbound traffic proceeded across the bridge when a song came on the radio...and of course I was listening to CBC because that was the station that I always had set on the radio. I do not know where I was going, but I do think that it was dark out? I actually think that I was probably driving to the church in Burnaby to pick the older girls up after a dance. Because the regional dances were at the Burnaby Stake Centre.

So the song that came on the radio was fun, funny, had a catchy tune, and I still remember the chorus 20 + years later:
I'm hurting, I'm aching, I'm menstruating,
Don't touch me, just leave me alone!
I don't wanna make love, and I sure won't make supper,
Till these cramps are gone, gone, gone, gone.

I shall have to learn how to play it, but I would so love to hear the whole song again. It was funny in the way that is funny when something is very true, but told in a humorous way.  I looked it up on the internet, and had no success. So I sent a little question to CBC radio...more than 20 years ago?  I don't know if they will be able to find it.

Books Read 2014

I read quite a lot this year...my first year post doctorate when I was free to read more things of my own choosing, rather than things I must read.

Total books read: 83
Read for the second time: 2 (both were accidental--the books looked familiar, but I had forgotten that I had already read them until I was a paragraph or two into them. But I read them anyway because they were both decent to read again.)
Non-fiction:20
Mysteries: 18
Number of authors read: 65
Most read author: Dale Furutani (6) -- Japanese American novelist. He started writing later in life, so I think I have read most of what he has written.
Justine Larbelistier (4) - I really liked her magic or madness trilogy. Australian writer
Ian Hamilton (4) -- Canadian author who writes about a Canadian Chinese female forensic accountant. That may sound boring, but it definitely is not. Sometimes can be a bit brutal for my taste.
Sita Brahmachan (3) -- Londoner of Indian heritage. I so loved her writing.
I have read (2) by each of the following:
Judy Blundell
Fannie Flagg
Amanda Flower
Ransom Riggs -- am quite anxious for book three of his Miss Peregrine series.
Kerry Greenwood -- we started watching the Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries on Netflix, an ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) production, and it is excellent, so I wanted to read the books. I have read 2 out of 17 so far.
I also read books by authors that I have read before and want to read more of, including:
Alan Bradley -- love this Canadian author and his heroine, Flavia  De Luce.
Margaret Dilloway -- Japanese-American novelist
Jamie Ford -- Chinese American novelist
Tarquin Hall - British, married to an Indian, writes about Indian characters
Rebecca Stead -- who I met at a Books for Young Readers, and I do enjoy everything she has written.