70 years, a whole lifetime. Now you have great-great-great-grandchildren -not one of them would even recognize your name, until now. I know it, it’s Rosa Drinkwine Blair. You were born 1873 in Fairfax, Vermont.
You had a hard life, this much I can read from your photo. How can a parent bury a child? The dress you’re wearing’s black and your youngest is not pictured. Freddie was only 3 when he passed. I see the sadness, I feel the ache. Ah, but Billy would come along soon enough and then you’d be complete again, right?
Grammy never spoke of Freddie to me or to anyone. Some loss is just too great.
So you’re gone and I can never know you as I wish. I’ve only the few stories about you and great-granddad, and those can’t be replenished. All who loved you aren’t here anymore. But I have memories, and thoughts and reflections. Maybe one day my children will want to know – maybe when they’re done with their phones and computers and worries, they’ll be able to look this up and see.
We can remember where we came from.
Love you Gran,