A Grantsville Fourth

We celebrated a Grantsville Fourth of July this year and I loved it.  We have not been able to participate for the past 3 years and it was as good as I remembered.  But, I have to admit that I was thinking of our DC’s fourths too.  There’s just so much history there and really, can you beat visiting the White House on that most patriotic day?  Well, no.  Ok, it was a close tie.  

Loni, my sis, and Heber with the boys.  Look at our crowd for the parade, this wasn't even everybody.

 

 I think the thing that really threw it over the top was being able to be there with my family.  My sisters, my cousins, nieces and nephews, the grandparents, it was just so nice.  It has been over a year since I’ve seen one of my sisters and it filled me up and made me sad that we are moving away from them all.  Leo ran his little legs off outside and had a wonderful time playing. 

 

It was a day filled with all of the traditional things.  The parade, which featured much less heavy machinery and tanks than I remember, a family BBQ with so much good food.  You should know by know that my family knows how to cook and make a beautiful meal.   To me, holidays are good food.

Grandpa Matt and Amy

One notable part of the day was being able to sing a solo at the flag raising ceremony at the Fire Station.  A few weeks ago, I felt like I wanted to sing there and just couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I called up the coordinator and asked if they needed a musical number.  It was wonderful to sing in public, it really is one of my favorite things to do.  Maybe I need to seek out more opportunities like this.

 

We topped it all off with fireworks.  What a wonderful weekend.

Leaving a Legacy

Just after the 4th of July, I made a very quick trip home.  My Aunt Starla passed away very unexpectedly.  We had some family visiting us in Virginia at the time (bad timing) so it was just me that traveled out.  It was so incredibly sad but I was thankful that I could make the trip out to be with my family. 

One of the things that really struck me during the trip was the legacy that Aunt Starla left behind.  She was a master scrapbooker, a rememberer.  Her scrapbooks spanned years and were so detailed and beautiful.  She truly left a legacy of her life and it made me want to do the same. 

Life just moves along.  If I don't make an effort  remember, the memories slowly fade.  There are so many good memories, good times that have been lost.  I feel the renewed need to celebrate the happy moments because we all know that there are plenty of hard times to get through.  Let's remember the good to buoy us up and help us to find strength to continue through the challenging ones. 

I'm not sure if I'm going to scrapbook them.  Honestly, I don't really scrapbook but I'll keep writing this blog.  It helps me to remember and to think about our experiences together.

My sisters and mom outside my parent's home in Grantsville

Saying Goodbye

We made our second cross country trip in ten days this past weekend. I have to admit that I was dreading traveling.  Who really wants to fly with a one year old?  There was no way that I could miss saying goodbye to Grandpa Dave, so we gathered ourselves together again (bags still not quite unpacked from our last trip) and made our way west. 

It was an incredible trip.

As you read before, we have been pretty exhausted around here.   With so much sickness going around, we've been just trying to hold it all together.  The thing is, the trip was uplifting and I came home not tired at all.  I think it was recalling Grandpa's life and seeing all of the love and support that we received.  It made me want to be a better person.  To care more about my community.

At Grandpa's funeral, there were hundreds of people who came through the viewing or attended the funeral and even more that called or stopped by the house.  My Grandpa was 83 when he passed away and people from all over turned up to honor him, old, young and everything in between.  There was family and then family of family (all of my mom's immediate family came, even though they are not related to Dave) who came out to support us. 

There were people from all walks of life,  nurses from the assisted living center, men in work clothes and cowboy boots, and women in black dresses and heels.  I can tell you that Grandpa Dave would have loved it all.  He loved people and people felt that genuine spirit.  It didn't matter who you were - stranger or friend, rich or poor, educated or not, there was a "hello there" with a twinkle in his eye and a funny story to share. 


I was blown away by all of the flowers, I have never seen so many arrangements at a funeral before.  So many people shared stories about how he'd helped them out in some way or touched their life for the better.   There was a beautiful meal provided by the church.  So many community members who serve and give with no thought of reward. 

So we said farewell to Grandpa.  He's given me so much over the years and as his final gift, he reminded me about who I am at my roots and to always be proud of that.   I want to give like he did and to be a friend like he was.

Me with  my sister's and mom at the funeral.

Dad L.

Leo and Aunt Carly.  He liked her, can you tell?

Me with Mom L. and Aunt Melody

Me and Aunt Star

Me with Leo's biggest fan, Grandma Barbara.

Me, Mom L., Grandma Barbara and Baby Leo

Grantsville

I grew up in Grantsville.  By most measures, it's not an impressive place.  Home to about 6,000 people when I grew up there, it doesn't have too many businesses or things that are flashy about it.  Not a sophisticated place like Portland or Chicago, it's just a humble little town.  There's only one grocery store, a hardware store, a video rental place.  There are still places for horses and plenty of sagebrush.

The street I last lived on.

The old drug store

When I would tell people I was from Grantsville, I would quickly explain that it was a great place to grow up but that I would never want to live there again.  I began to think it would have been better to have been from somewhere bigger or more impressive.

I was wrong.


During this trip home, I learned something about Grantsville and about myself.  My brother spoke at Grandpa Dave's funeral and he said something that really hit me.  He said, "no one grew up like I did."  He was so right.

I grew up one block away from both sets of my grandparents and most of my extended family lived less than 15 minutes away.  We spent several evenings every week visiting with family and there was often a Sunday dinner with all of the cousins.  I knew all of my family and our lives were all intertwined. 
Grantsville is a town where people know each other and always lend a helping hand.

Grandpa Dave would saddle up the horses and have them ready so that we could ride in the local rodeos.  Decked out in cowboys hats and boots and a set of spurs, I had little blondie curls that bounced as I rode around the corral.  Grandpa was always there.  I learned on this trip that he had to have someone watch Lawrence's Texaco so that he could be there.  But that's how our life was, our family attended everything and supported us in all of our endeavors.

After kindergarten and through much of my elementary school years, I would spend afternoons with Grandma Barbara in the Grantsville City Library.  I would push the old stool around and read Bearanstein Bears and Dolch books.  Grandma would give me a dime so that I could run over to the Bluebird for penny candy.

I would often hop on my bike, ribbons streaming from my handlebars and ride down Main Street to Lawrence's Texaco to see Grandpa.  He'd help us cross the big road and then I'd sit up on a ripped red vinyl stool and sip a grape soda with Grandpa that came out of an old machine that didn't even work but that he kept around for us.  I can still remember the smell of that place. 

Grantsville is home to the Old Folks Sociable.  For 128 years, the community has gathered annual to celebrate Grantsville.  There's a program, dinner, dancing.  There are displays that commemorate the people and places in Grantsville.  Every year for almost 130 this has been happening.

This was my childhood.  This was Grantsville.  It may not be impressive or sophisticated but it was wonderful.  It was filled with family and people who cared about us.  I knew my family and interacted with them daily. 


Now that I've moved away, I can see that no one grows up like that anymore (not even Heber).  I'm proud to have grown up there.  In fact, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.