We spent Easter with family in Pensacola, Florida, a mini-reunion of my husband’s immediate family.
Reunions have been a part of Roger’s family for decades. His parents came from large farm families in North Dakota – there were 38 first cousins. His father was fond of saying that “North Dakota is a great place to be from” because most of the 19 siblings (on both sides) left the state during the depression and WWII. Their reunions have been held every three years all over the country. Reunions with 50 to 80 people are always fun, but there is never enough time to spend with his sister and family.
This year was an “off” year, so the long weekend spent with all the nieces, their husbands, and children, was especially meaningful. The four Blomquists now number 16, with more on the way.
Decades ago, Roger’s Dad, Vic, wrote a book about his life. We treasured it and his four granddaughters shared it when they did units in school about their family history. Teachers often cried reading the poignant stories, especially when he talked about losing his leg in WWII and when his wife succumbed to Alzheimer’s.
Last month, we spent some time listening to Vic’s cassette tape on which he recorded tales of growing up on the farm. A chemist, he described their primitive sanitation measures in unpleasant detail not suitable for a family publication. A few new stories reminded me of the book, In No Time At All, a family history by Carl Hamilton that recreated “the sights, sounds and even smells of an Iowan farm between the two world wars” — much like Vic’s book.
Roger’s parents have been gone for almost 20 years, but they were with us in more than spirit. It was a perfect holiday to celebrate memories of loving and supportive parents.
