A Birthday Wish For My Son

This came up on my Facebook memories today, which is my son’s 50th birthday. These words still hold true today and always will. Happy Birthday Dustin Russell

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Dustin Russell ..Love that face

My wish for you on this day, is for you to know how much you are loved.  You were my first-born.  Only a parent can know the emotions you feel when you hold your first born child for the first time.  You know that feeling… know that is how I felt when I first held you!

You overwhelmed me with love!  You still do.  It is hard to hear your name and not see your smiling face giving me a bouquet of dandelions!  Your smile still warms me.  I so miss not being able to live close enough to visit often.  But there will never be a distance in my love for you.

I am so proud of the man you have become.  You are such a good father to all your children.  You have always excelled in your work life.  But the most important…

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The Sons of Immigrants

Alexander (Sandy) and Herbert (Junior) Russell

This is a picture of my husband’s father, Herb, and his Uncle Sandy Russell. It was taken at the home ranch at Limestone, Montana.

Herb’s father was Herbert Russell Senior. He immigrated to Montana from Scotland. Herb Jr.’s mother, Bridget (Delia) immigrated from Ireland. They did not know each other in the old country. They met in Montana, and joined their homesteads when they married. Herb Sr.’s homestead was what became part of the Russell Ranch. Delia’s was in Columbus, MT where they would winter their sheep.

It never really struck me until I was looking at this picture today, that these boys were the first American born children in the Russell family.

The ranch they were born on is still family owned. Herb Jr., who just turned 100 this year still lives on the ranch with his wife of 75 years.

Sandy was drafted into the Army during World War II and served in the European Theater. He was awarded the Combat Infantry Badge, a Bronze Star, a Silver Star, and two Purple Hearts, while defending our country.

These two were part of the Greatest Generation; a generation that is almost gone, a generation that was part of the backbone of our country. They are a generation that we should learn from and honor with gratitude.

 

Take My Hand

Fifty one years ago today we joined hands as husband and wife. We were so young, both just 21, happy, and full of plans for a lifetime of forever before us. Forever seemed like, well, forever!

Forever sounds like a long, long, time. But as people on this earth, I can tell you, it is not as long as you think. From our 20’s to our 70’s went by so fast we hardly had time to blink!

We were raising little ones in a house full of laughter and noise to looking forward to our first great-grandchild in what seems like overnight.

We have shared so many great times. But we have also shared a lot of heartaches, and trials.

I wouldn’t trade one moment, good or bad, because they made us who we are.

God has blessed us, We were told by some we wouldn’t make it. But here we are, still full of plans for what is left of a lifetime of forever before us.

Life is precious. Don’t waste it. Love and do good while you can. Forgive when needed, Trust in the Lord. Smile, hug your loved ones. Let them know you love them. Thank the Lord for your blessings.

I thank Him every day for the hand that took mine 51 years ago. It is strong, but gentle. It is protective, yet encouraging. It is always there when I need it. I hold that hand every chance I get. I hope I am holding it when I take my last breath.

Here’s to us! Happy Anniversary Mike!

My Great-Great Grandparents

Ed &Missouri Holverson

I shared a recent post titled “ Bruneau Pioneers” with a picture of my great -great -grandparents, Ed and Missouri Holverson. They were in a wagon and Gran (Missouri) was smoking a pipe.

This is a younger picture of them, and I’m wondering if this was maybe their wedding picture. Gran looks so young here, but she was already a widow, with two children by the time her and Ed were married.

I can’t get over how tiny her waist was.

Two Mules For Two Cousins

Jim Craig and his cousin. Cleo Noble

No, it’s not “Two Mules For Sister Sara”, which is what my mind went to when I saw this picture. It is however a really cute picture of my dad, Jim Craig, and his cousin Cleo Noble. I am not sure who those mules belonged to but, they are pretty cute too! They look like a pretty good matched pair, so I would bet they are related as well!

Dad was telling me not too long before he passed, about riding a mule when he was a kid. It may have been one, or both, of these.

Dad was close to Cleo and all his cousins all his life. He always talked very fond of her.

Drobny Ladies

L-R My grandmother Odessa, My great Aunt Bessie, My great-grandmother Nancy Drobny

This is another special photo for the family history album. I know I met her when I was little, but I don’t remember my great grandmother. I am struck by her beauty in this picture. She has such a sweetness and kindness flowing from her face and her arm resting so gently on Aunt Bessie’s shoulder. Although I don’t remember her, I have always admired Grandma Drobny. From what I heard, she had a pretty hard life.

Great-grandma Nancy and my great-grandfather Charles Drobny, were married in 1889. They had a total of 10 children together, five boys and five girls. Three of the boys, and one daughter died. I don’t know at what age or from what. I was told her husband deserted her and she was left to raise the children by herself.

I have only a few pictures of Grandma Odessa when she was younger. She and Aunt Bessie look so cute here. They look to me like maybe they are dressed up to go to a dance. Their dresses look very similar. I love Grandma Odessa’s hat, and Bessie’s headband, also their shoes and stockings.

I wish I knew who the toddler was.

This picture is such a treasure.

The Best Daddy

Dear Daddy,

This is the first Father’s Day that I and Sister Patsy won’t have you on this earth with us. Can’t tell you how sad my heart is. But just for a little bit. I really am thankful that you are in heaven with Jesus now. I am glad you are not suffering any more. I am sure you have reconnected with lots of family and old friends by now, and of course Mom.

If you have Facebook in heaven, I hope you see this post and know how much you are missed. Your little girls, will always be your little girls, and love you so very much. We miss the touch of your gentle hands on our shoulders.

You were the Best Daddy Ever!! Happy Heavenly Father’s Day!

The Father of My Children

There is a wagon load of memories in this picture. We were so young, and our life was full of love for each other and our children. All of that is still true today; except for the “so young” part. My dark hair has a lot of silver in it now, and that red beard is mostly white. All of those sweet little kids are now older than my husband and I were in this photo. Most of their children are adults and two of those kids have a child that is married, one which is carrying our first great-grandchild!

Where or where do the years go? But I am so thankful for the memories. They are such a comfort in older years.

Today I want to thank this man who is the father of my children for such a great life. Thank you, Mike, for being a great father to our kids and for being such a good husband, and friend to me all these years.

You are much loved! Happy Father’s Day!!

Bruneau Pioneeres

Great-great-grandparents, Ed and Missouri (Susie) Holverson 1906

This picture is one for my family history book. It was taken in 1906 on the road between Mountain Home and Bruneau, Idaho.

My father always knew my great-great-grandmother as Gran. I have seen accounts where she was referred to as Susie, sometimes spelled Suzie. But her obituary has her as Missouri,Catherine, Harris, Holverson. She was previously married and widowed with 3 children, my great-grandmother, Edna, my great-aunt Effie, and my great aunt Lillie who drowned when she was young.
If you can enlarge this picture, you will see that Gran Holverson is smoking a pipe! .

My dad said Gran was a sharp shooter and could out shoot most men.

I wish I could have known them.

 

Don’t Fence Me In

My dad was a cowboy and he used to sing this song to me when I was a kid, usually when we were out riding, moving cows from place to place. It quickly became one of my favorites as well.

Dad instilled in me his love for Country Music and his love for the wide-open spaces of the West.

A few verses of Don’t Fence Me In, by Cole Porter:

Let me ride through the wide-open country that I love,

Don’t fence me in

Let me be by myself in the evening breeze,

listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,

Send me off forever, but I ask you please,

Don’t fence me in.

Just turn me loose, let me straddle my old saddle

underneath the western skies,

On my cayuse, let me wander over yonder till I see the mountains rise,

I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences,

and gaze at the moon till I lose my senses,

I can’t look at hobbles, and I can’t stand fences,

Don’t fence me in.

Like my dad I long to live again in the wide-open spaces that I love, like in the above picture.

Dad is finally free. He is riding the range up yonder. He is no longer fenced in. I am so glad for him, but I miss him dearly. But if I know my dad, he has a horse saddled up and waiting for me in the barn….waiting for me to get done with my chores, waiting to show me some new country on the back of a great quarter horse, waiting for me to sing this song with him once more.