My life has changed the last few years. It has changed from that of a simple country girl…woman ( I haven’t been a girl for many decades!) to that of city life. I say city life, because that is what it is to me. Actually, I live in what most would still consider a small town.
I am still the same person, but I am out of my natural element. The things I do everyday are different. The things my eyes see are different. The things my ears hear are different. The things I smell are different. The way I feel here is different. But memories….they haven’t changed! I can take them with me wherever I go. They can make me laugh. They can make me cry. They can make me feel young and carefree. They restore my spirit when it needs it.
I’ve met a lot of different people since I’ve been living in town. I’ve worked with a lot of young people. I’ve learned a lot from them. I’ve learned that not everyone has been as lucky as I have been. Not everyone has good memories.
But I do. My childhood was the kind that every child should have. I was raised with loving parents. My mom was such a sweet, kind, and patient woman. My Dad was, and still is, always there for me. His hands were gentle when needed, and strong when needed. My parents loved each other and they loved us.
It was their foundation of love that blessed me with such a good life. It was their foundation that overflowed to me and helped provide the foundation for my marriage, and I believe it has overflowed to my children’s lives, as well as my grandchildren’s lives.
Thank you Mom and Dad for such great memories.
And now I’d like to take a little trip; a trip down memory lane.
I’m going to share some memories with the help of old photos, and some that only have a picture in my mind and heart.
If any photos or memories I share spark memories of family members or friends, if you have any specific facts; where, dates, occasions, etc, please share on the comments of my blog. I’d like this to be the start of a history for our family.
My memories started where my family started, in a little place called Bruneau, ID.
This is a picture of the family homestead. I may be wrong, but I believe it was first homesteaded by my great, great, grandparents, Gran, (Suzie) and Ed Halverson. That is Gran standing in the pasture.
I was only five years old when we left Bruneau, so I don’t have a lot of vivid memories from there. Most of my memories come from returning visits over the years. But I do have a few.
One of my first ones was when my sister Pat’s pony, Tootsie, ran away with me. She was running down that tree-lined lane leading up to the house. I can remember being so scared, and crying for my daddy to save me…and he did! I can remember how warm and safe his arms felt around me. Now I know that in reality, Tootsie was probably bearly in a trot, but in this little girl’s memory, she was in a dead out death run! And my Dad was my hero! Still is!