Her name was Lydia and I can imagine family and friends called her “Lyddie.” She was my grandmother’s grandmother. Born in 1823, she was a widow who lived by herself on her farm in Georgia. Recently, I read copies of letters she wrote to her daughter, Tep, and to her granddaughter, Edna. One letter is dated 1890. Dear […]
May 16, 2025
Times Like These
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In uncertain times, we need an anchor, something unchangeable that we can cling to. It helps to have reminders that people have gone through hard times before now, and survived. My granddaughter and I are interested in genealogy. She has traced one line of our ancestry back to the 1400s. Now, that’s a long time […]
Nov 6, 2024
In a Roundabout Way
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Darcy poured another cup of her mother’s strong, hot coffee and sat down across from her, at the kitchen table. “So, Mom, you know everybody in Levi, Oklahoma. Why are you wondering whether to send flowers to January Gritts’ funeral? Are we related to him?” Flora Tucker sipped her coffee and narrowed her eyes. “We […]
Nov 18, 2023
Making Sense
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In uncertain times, we need an anchor, something unchangeable that we can cling to. It helps to have reminders that people have gone through hard times before now, and survived. One of my nieces, for example, is interested in learning about family history. In trying to answer her questions, I turned to the place where […]
Jan 19, 2023
The Way It Was
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The following story is from my mother’s book, Remembering Etta Bend. These are the words of Susie Latty, who, much later, became my mom. The year would have been around 1918. Most of the things we used were homemade and they had to last as long as possible. Papa carved his own handles and wood […]
