Memorial Day 2011 and Reminiscing

Memorial Day weekend was super soggy!  Sunday we went to the Orem Cemetery to visit the grave of Russ's grandparents.  We were supposed to have a picnic there, but had to go to a neighboring park pavilion instead because it was raining so hard!  I didn't get any pics of that cemetery because I was too busy chasing Davis (who was wearing swim goggles!) in the pouring rain.

Monday, we went to the Kaysville Cemetery to visit the graves of my grandparents.  I really like Memorial Day.  I love thinking about my heritage and remembering what amazing people have been in my life (and preceded my life as well).

Here we are at the grave of my Grandma Little.  She died in April 2008.  I miss her.  She taught me to love beautiful things.  I used my china and crystal last week and thought of her.  She also taught me to "look up" whenever you visit someplace new.  If you don't look up, you will miss seeing some fantastic things.  She was a fantastic pianist, and she even played a piece called "Deep Purple" on the radio when she was a young girl.  She always encouraged me with my piano lessons and even found me a new teacher when my piano teacher moved (when I was 15 and would have rather quit...). She told me if I kept taking lessons until I graduated from high school, I could have her piano someday.  I kept at it! (I am not too proud to be bribed...)  I got to play "Clair de Lune" at her funeral.  I feel like that song was her last gift to me because I get to think of her every time I play it.

We also visited the grave of my dad's parents.

There was actually some snow on the ground in Kaysville that morning!

 Grandma Hadfield died before I was born.  I am excited to meet her someday.  I hope she will like me.

Grandpa Hadfield lived in my ward during my whole childhood.  When we lived in the old house, we could hop the back fence and walk down a couple houses, and we were at his place.  Grandpa was an accountant, and I used to play on the ten-key and typewriter in his basement when I would visit his house.  I have the desk that held his ten-key in my office, and we use his kitchen table and chairs.  He also played the piano and organ.  I got to play an organ medley at his funeral.  I was so nervous that my feet were bouncing off the pedals, and I could hardly see the music through my tears.  One of the hymns I played in my medley was #128 (When Faith Endures).  I discovered it while preparing for the funeral, and every time I play it, I think of Grandpa Hadfield.

 We also visited the grave of my dad's grandparents.  Great-grandma Owen died when I was almost 13.  We didn't see her very often because she lived out of state. Dad's grandpa taught him how to paint.  He was a great artist, and we had some of his paintings in our home growing up.  I always thought he had a cool name, "Royal."

When I was a little girl, we used to go to Morgan on "Decoration Day" (as my grandparents called it).  That is where Grandma and Grandpa Little grew up, and most of their ancestors are buried there.  We would visit four cemeteries there: North Morgan, South Morgan, Peterson, and Enterprise.  Each cemetery had a different personality:  South Morgan seemed the biggest, and that is the one where Grandpa lit the hillside on fire accidentally when he was a boy (and earned the nickname "Firebug Little").  I thought North Morgan was the prettiest -- lots of trees.  Peterson was on a steep hillside.  I always thought Enterprise was pretty cool because it is just a small family cemetery in the middle of nowhere.  One of the graves there was for a pioneer ancestor (I think Amelia Croft, but I may be wrong).  Her headstone said "walked 40 miles to Ogden for flour, 9 months pregnant."  I always thought that was amazing.  But I digress.

I loved going to Morgan, and I hope to go there again soon -- maybe for next Decoration Day.  I can remember going there with my family and Grandma and Grandpa.  At each cemetery, my grandparents would open their trunk, and there would be large white buckets filled with lilacs and snowballs in water (cut from their bushes that morning).  My grandparents would fill their own vases with the flowers to put at each grave, securing each vase into the ground with a cut-up hanger.  They would tell stories at each headstone. I have such great memories of that.  Even though we didn't make it this year, some of my cousins went, and one of them took this great pic of my Grandpa that I will use to end my post.

I like this pic because Grandpa is laughing and looks so happy.  My grandpa is a great joke teller, and my guess is that this pic was taken right after a punch line!  He is sitting with his sister, June, and you can see his sister, Ruby, at the table behind him.  His sisters and brothers all lived in Morgan their whole lives, and I have great memories of them too.  But those stories will have to wait for another day!

I love you, Grandpa!