Monday, November 15, 2010

Four Generations Going Strong

Many of us had inkling when we knew we wanted to write. Early on I did and lately I’ve connected that feeling with my family tree. This blog is just a bit different, but bear with me.

I truly wonder if the writing bug is in our genes, but writing is an art. Look at your family tree and see if, art in some form permeates. Maybe? Maybe not.

This has been so in my family since my immigrant grandfather in 1776 painted portraits to settle his indentured servant hood.

My little granddaughter recently sent this poem. I’d like to share it, as well as snippets of three generations before.

Fall

By Amelia

Fall, small, it is turning fall.

It is turning from summer to fall.

It is a bummer that it is fall.

Amelia’s mother, school counselor, in her published book on body safety for young children:

Some parts of our bodies we share with others.

For example, our hands when we high five someone or shake a hand.

We share all of the parts of our bodies except the private parts.

The private parts are any area a swimsuit covers.

Amelia’s grandmother—me!

Savannah, caught between erupting romantic feelings for Khenan and terror of Anders, is pressured by her best friend to tell Gabriel’s father Judson he has a son. With reluctance she does and worries what her response will be when Judson arrives to meet Gabe, their son.

Amelia’s great grandmother—my mother. Writing sweet romances in the 1930’s.

Mr.Flynn was a pleasant looking middle aged man with high broad shoulders and big brown eyes and his face always wore a smile; straight and well framed, he had never loved anybody and no one had ever loved him.

Case rested. I’m carrying on what was begun before me and so are those after me.

Anyone else share similar stories?

Jude Urbanski

3 comments:

  1. My mom was quite the story-teller, and so are my two daughters. The younger one is like her grandma--the fish is always bigger, more colorful, far tastier--and people always believe her exaggerations (to my embarrassment when it's a story about Mom). My older daughter tells her stories with pacing and drama that has you hanging on each word until she finishes, usually with a delightful twist of humor. Sadly, I don't know enough about my ancestors to know about their creativity, but I'd say something good got passed along!

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  2. I love this, Jude. I love stories told within our families and I heard stories that were passed down through my parents and aunts and uncles from ancestors.

    And my boys are good storytellers, so I have a hope for the future generations, as well.

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  3. How wonderful to trace the love of words through several generations. I think my love of storytelling goes back through my southern side, my dad and his dad, telling stories on the back porch.

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