Wednesday, 12 November 2003 - 4:01 PM CST

Name: Aunt Nan

What beauty you have in your writing.....I love what you're doing! What a gift it is to all of us, and I feel to yourself as well.

I love you like my own daughter.

Always,


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Friday, 14 November 2003 - 11:50 AM CST

Name: Kelly
E-Mail: kellog017@hotmail.com

Amy- I love that you are putting into words (much better than I ever could) what a lot of people feel. I have noticed that in our family, there is for sure not a lack of love, but I think a lot of us have a hard time expressing it. I am so guilty of this- probably the worst! Reading your posting about Aunt Kay, I couldn't help but think back on a good memory ( actually mmemories!) I have of her. Of course, I remember being so excited that she was moving here! I remember being so proud, getting to leave softball practice early in the 6th grade because she was going to be coming in that day and I got to go see her. And it was so weird because I didn't really know her, except for updates from Grandma or the time she came to surprise us at Christmas (which is one of my favorite Christmas memories.) But when I saw her, I immediately had this special connection with her and it felt like we had known eachother forever. She let me talk to her about everything and Grandma always said that we talked like we were best friends. I guess my favorite memory of her is how she was so great while Dad and Mom were fighting more, and eventually separated. She would take me bowling with Pat, Victoria, and Rachel, let me go to Eufala with them and go water- skiing, and buy me special presents just to let me know she was thinking about me. When we couldn't afford stuff, she would let me iron her clothes to make money to buy a comforter I wanted for my room. When I couldn't afford to buy a yearbook from school, her and Grandma pitched in to make sure that I got one. When Mom and I moved into the apartment and Mom had her surgery, she sent me a postcard saying that she was proud of me for taking such good care of my mom and told me that I was good at bowling "for a mere child," which is still a joke with us! I still have that postcard and I don't think she realizes how much that meant to me. Slowly I became more involved with my friends and we didn't spend as much time together, but I don't know that I could have gotten through that horrible time in my life if it wasn't for her. It's like she came back just in time to be there for me. And she still is there for me.She made all of the bridesmaid dresses for my wedding with nothing in return ( which I still feel horrible about and didn't thank her enough for), and still sends me birthday cards every year. I feel so incredibly lucky to have the family that I have and I know that I am not so good at showing it, but Kay I hope that you know just how much all the things you do for me and for the rest of the family is SOOOO appreciated and I love you very much- Kelly

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Friday, 14 November 2003 - 11:54 AM CST

Name: Kelly

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAPA!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!

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Tuesday, Nov. 18 Ava has a Singing Churchwomen concert-- more info later, I think it's in Norman. Please feel free to post your own logs to any or all family members or give info. of your own upcoming events. Also just any thought you want to share or brag about an achivement, share a link or joke or whatever. If you don't want to enter it directly you can email stuf to me & I will-- amyhynson@yahoo.com. Will start pictures soon and a calander of events.

On this first entry I want to share with grandma that if she thinks that no one knows, I do know. If all she has gone through is never realized in its capacity by anyone else, I want her to know that it is all appreciated by me. I can imagine her, only girl in a family of boys, second mother turned foster mother and then father upon the death of her own parents. Keeper of Business, of Decisions, of the It's Hard But Who Else Can or Will Handle It things. Moderator of Sicknesses. And I don't know the private grandma and grandpa. I don't know what shorthand of the heart of 50 years of marriage creates. But I do know that I share a piece of that same anscestral heart and that it's deepest recesses are known by Nobody, the part entitled "It is My Duty to Bear Many Pains Unrecognized". So probably even her own husband, while even being active in her and his own hardships, may not be aware of just how much and how long and how deep and how sad. There has to come a point when complaints too profound or beyond words have no home in this world and so must be internalized. I am not nearly as familiar with as much family history as I'd like to be. I just now feel I may have enough space in my consciousness to allow questions of where I came from and who they Really are, the long line of people that made us all, all of those who came before and who are even still present in those who are yet to come. But not to negate anyone else's struggles and stories, I've just really been thinking of Grandma a lot lately. We all have a sibling and so can relate to how it must have felt to fight so hard and through your own and your husband's pains for your brother's "best interests," however heartbreaking or self-sacrificial they may be. And to remain strong and clear-headed enough to carry on. I mean what else can you do, right? And that's the part of the heart we share I'm referring to: even if we think there is something we would never be able to handle, even if we think of the most horrible situation possible, the one that would break us or destroy us or at least cause us to never be the same... when it comes down to it, no matter what happens, we do make it and can handle it because we have to, because there is no one else who could do it and we cannot just cease to exist, that is not an option. So when we look up from that edge of despair or breaking stress we see since it is not in us to completely give up, what else is there to do but carry on, and carry on with grace and more strength than we ever knew we were capable of. And no one ever really knows. And then... that storm is over til' the next one comes along. And it's like... well, a house that stands strong through all kinds of nature but loses a brick or some shingles or a plank of wood every time, but since it is still standing and the damage is not "loud" enough to repair, the damage is never really assessed. And so, with the funeral of the first of her brothers to meet the Lord, a very powerful storm is over for her and him and many close others. There were some last stinging hailstones, like Betty being listed as mother and wife and Great-grandma not being mentioned in the obituary, Southard being pronounced sowthahrd instead of suthurd, the cold reality that that was it, the potted plants and the little uncle and the lime green and the weather and the old children and the radio and the blue tent and the family names and the fuzzy chairs and the culmination of one's whole life and your involvement in it. I can of course imagine a kind of relief. Not only for the end of Ray's pain but of a a reprieve from the past months exhaustion. I try to put myself in her place and wonder if my strength would measure up if I were in the same situation one day with Rob and Kelly instead of Ray and Betty. I can't even comprehend those emotions right now. But I just want to mainly tell grandma that I love her and I understand and I of the same heart and that others of the same heart (Kay) can hear your heart and will share this storm's transition with you in silent communion. Our spirits will join yours as you board up your attic window.