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January 26: Remembrance or Tribute Layout

317 Words
Fishing trips to Montana started 25 years ago. Greg and I didn’t have too many things that we both enjoyed doing together. I knew he liked fishing and I thought that was something that I could learn to do. I am not an outdoorsy girl and I’m not sure I knew what I was in for. But I did learn and we went back every summer and I even got pretty good at it.

One of the best things that came from those trips was the grandchildren trips. When they turned 12 they were invited to go fishing with Grampa. It was quite an adventure because they first had to fly from Hawaii to Minnesota. Then the long drive across the Dakotas to Montana. Just Grampa and grandchild. I think it was very brave of both of them. We didn’t get to Hawaii to visit very often. They had only met maybe twice before. Twelve years old and flying all by yourself, to stay with people you hardly knew. But it all worked out.

He made 3 of those trips. The first 2 were the boys. When the granddaughter came he didn’t think it would look good for them to be traveling by themselves so I was invited along. And our daughter felt left out so she invited herself along too. We called that trip the Estrogen Tour.

We had many more trips to Montana. I saw snakes, moose and bears up closer than I would have liked. But I really didn’t like when we shared the stream with cows. Most of our fishing was wading the streams. Since Greg’s accident 5 years ago we haven’t gone to Montana. He won’t be able to walk the streams anymore but we’re hoping to fish from the docks or ponds. We made many friends when we were there and it would be great to visit once more. Maybe after Covid...

 
312 words
Ahh what an amazing and beautiful place! Breathtaking! We are so lucky to live so close to such a “gorge”ous attraction. There is the river, of course, and so many hikes and waterfalls and creeks and wildflowers! I have been there in every season and it never disappoints. The wildflowers in the spring, snow in the winter, heat and views in the summer, and changing leaves in the fall. It restores energy to my body and peace to my soul. I love that I am able to take my kids there which I have done together and separately as well. I love that they will hike with me and truly enjoy the experience. There is so much to discover and altough I have done quite a few of the hikes around there, there are so many more! The dogs, of course, love the Gorge and can’t get enough either!. My great grandpa (Wayne Barham) actually worked on the fish ladders in the Bonneville Dam in the 1940s. I definitely need to go visit and take the kids there. Kyle included it in his family history project in middle school.
When I think of fresh air, freedom, exhilarating views, and ever changing natural beauty, I always think of the Gorge and what it has to offer. The adorable town of Hood River is along the Columbia, Multnomah Falls, so many hikes, views to die for, memories of hiking with the kids and their friends, Skamania Lodge, just so many things to do and places to see! It gives me life!
There is Angel’s Rest which I remember laughing my head off hiking there with Halle when our ice spikes kept falling off our hiking boots. I remember seeing Multnomah Falls totally iced over with Andy which was amazing. Hamilton Mountain is so varied with Rodney Falls and the views at the top. Yes. please!
 
336 words...

If you can't read the journaling here, I've included it with the credits in the gallery.

 
took me a white to chose between writing about a person or a place, but eventually went for a place. Thank you for the challenge. My word count, not including the date, is 313.
 


For the past few days I’ve been looking at the numbers on the calendar, growing more and more introspective as we grow closer to the date. March 5th, it will be 22 years since I last held my Olivia in my arms. Yet it seems as if her passing happened only yesterday
With a mother’s intuition, I had known something was wrong during that pregnancy from a couple of weeks before. I hadn't felt her move for days. I remember walking in the hospital that day, just knowing she was gone. When the tech completed an ultrasound to confirm her passing, I saw the perfect form of my baby up on the screen. I remember looking so happy, thinking everything was okay after all, and the tech pointing out that the heart was still. No blinking blip. No more life.
I remember her birth. The pinch of the needle as they induced labor. When other mother's can't wait to push their baby out, I was desperately wanting to hold her in for just one more moment. There was no sweet lullaby played when she was born, no tears of joy or screams of a newborn. There was only silence.
I remember the kind nurse dressing her up for me. Taking her footprints and hand imprints. I remember all the brief moments I got to spend with her. They are forever imprinted in my heart. Her deep chocolate brown eyes and the wisps of midnight curls that curled upon her face. I remember how perfect her cold body was as it laid upon my chest. How the moment seemed surreal. The cold drift of air that passed through that corner room of the maternity ward. Every single detail of those hours I spent there.

With that same mother’s intuition, no matter how busy or stressed I am, no matter how many other things I seem to forget as I race through my life at breakneck speed, I never forget this anniversary. It is imprinted on my heart. As the date nears, I feel a stillness settling in, a quiet place amid the chaos, a space reserved just for this baby, the one I never to got raise, the one I call Livy.

In the past, I have talked about the ways Olivia shaped my family by her absence rather than her presence, and that truth remains with me. I am very much aware of the fact that life would be very different had she lived. She managed to leave her mark on my heart, even without taking a breath. She lingers here, not only in my heart but around the edges of our lives — especially the lives of our two girls and young man who followed her. I know them because I did not know my sweet Livy. What a sorrowful and yet beautiful impact she had.

So, thank you, baby, for all that you were and all that you have given me without ever setting foot on this earth. The power of one small life.



506 words total here
 
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https://the-lilypad.com/forum/galleries/moc10_day_26_iceland-1-150.497781/
 
Day 26- A Remembrance or Tribute Layout. I recorded some memories about my maternal grandparents. I used well above the 300 words requirement with 561 words. Credits are in the gallery.
Day 26-Grandparents_web.jpg
 
I almost never journal more than a "what, where, when", and especially never about sad or painful things. Yet this has been on my mind and here we are. The journaling is in the credits in the gallery.

 
315 Words - I hope it was okay that I broke the journaling up, but it made sense to do so as I had various points to touch on. I only counted the blocked journaling, the cards, and the strips - not the tags on the photos.

We found this leather tooled binder at my parents’ during the clean-out.
It turned out to be a yearbook, of sorts, for a club my grandmother had
been active in. Grandma did a lot of leather tooling, and this was something I
I could easily keep. Sadly, the rocking chair and many of her painted dishes were given away.


Because I am a maker, I’ve often been told I am “so much like Lillian,” my dad’s mother. She was a woman of many talents - ceramics, leather tooling, crochet, bobbin lace, tatting and quilting are the ones I am aware of. I have tried to learn many of the crafts she practiced.


I barely knew Grandma Goley; she died when I was five. I have only one real memory of her visits. We sat on the sofa and she would let me go through her handbag, inspecting each item carefully. The goal was to get to the bottom, where she always had hard candy, usually a Brach’s butterscotch. I still think of her today when one is proffered to me. I’ve often wished that she had lived to teach me some of her crafts and to see what creative paths I’ve chosen. I would love to ask her whether the quilt I’m currently finishing was hers, or one of the boarding girls that lived at the farm during the Depression. I’ve named two of my sewing machines - Lillian and Josephine - after her.

The photo below is one of several articles saved in the binder, along with the fair ribbons. Grandma Goley is the woman holding the large pillow, lower right. I remember that we had a few of those pillows at the house. I liked them because I could sit on them, like a tuffet. I suppose time caused them to be discarded, but it’s nice to see a photo of them now.



 
426 words to talk about my first college roommate - very nice challenge with so many possibilities!
 
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