Showing posts with label Babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Babies. Show all posts

Monday, December 18, 2017

Christmas beauty of the day - A baby booty

Christmas beauty of the day.
A baby booty.
There are several remembrances on our tree of the time when we had a houseful of babies. These particular booties were made by a woman in our church who is no longer alive -- Miss Jane Bogner.
And, they remind us of another baby who was born 2,000 years ago who probably had no booties.

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Gratitude Day #8 - My Five Senses - 8 November 2017

I am grateful for my five senses.

I believe they are God-given blessings to help me enjoy this world I live in.

I am grateful for my sight, for I have been able to seen some of the splendors of the earth. I have seen great vistas and tiny handwriting in historical documents. I have seen beauty, and I've seen those in pain.

I am grateful for my hearing. I learned this as I sat outside my babies' bedrooms listening to them breathe and snort. I have heard great symphonies and listened to guilt-ridden hearts. I have heard great teachings and sweet birds. I have heard grandchildren exclaim, "Grammy!!!"

I am grateful for my sense of touch. I have rubbed the back on one in tears, and had my own shoulders cradled. I have touched smooth little baby butts and kitties' fur. I have rubbed my hand over warm bread felt my bathwater sooth my aching feet after a day of speaking.

I am grateful for my sense of smell. The hills around me are filled with blossoms in the springtime, and wood smoke in the winter. I love autumn leaves burning. I love the smell of a good dinner cooking as I try to identify the ingredients. I LOVE a newborn baby's unique smell -- so fresh and clean. I love Mr. Kerry's scent after he takes a shower, for I could follow him through the house blindly. (PS...my mom loved the same thing about my dad)

I love the sense of taste most of all! Yes, I have a food habit. I have had delicacies and good ol' southern cookin'. I have had bread in the shape of swans and biscuits in a cast iron skillet. I've had caviar, and I've had a chicken I butchered myself. I've traveled every state and many countries and tasted their delicacies. Each is unique, and so good!

I suppose some senses I could live without. But, I wouldn't want to. They have helped me to partake of the goodness of this earth in so many ways.




Saturday, September 8, 2012

Remembering the Babies

I have not set out on a quest to discover the forgotten babies in my family.  It just happened.
Little Faye Stevens, youngest sibling of my mother, Ida Stevens Clemens, and the only other girl in a family of eight children.  She died at age 3 of acute lymphatic leukemia.

It first began while perusing the West Virginia Death Records that are available online.  http://www.wvculture.org/vrr/va_select.aspx  My parents, along with a couple of my dad's brothers and their families were living in the West Virginia coal camps in Logan County.  I had heard my mother mentioned that her two sisters-in-law had a number of pregnancies, along with a number of miscarriages and premature births.  Each of these aunt supposedly had 18 pregnancies.

I found a number of these premature babies listed, along with children that lived.  My heart began to break, for I saw many causes of death that could have/would have been easily preventable today.  Such causes included rickets, malnutrition, childbed fever and syphillis.

I found where many of these young ones were buried, for it was included on the death certificates.  Some made the trip back to Olive Hill, Carter, Kentucky and a couple of others were buried in Logan County.  Even though my parents knew the families intimately, not all of the babies were included in our records.

Another big surprise happened while teaching at a genealogy conference.  I decided to go "live" onto FamilySearch.org and demonstrate different ways of researching.  While illustrating how one can do a "Parent Search", I filled in the names of my mother's grandparents, Benjamin Franklin and Celia Moore Gearheart.

My mother knew this family quite well.  They lived nearby.  She played at their house.  They died when she was well into her adult years.  But, while I was waiting for the screen to load, I was taken by surprise.  There appeared an entry for Matt Gearheart.
Matt.  Who in the world was Matt?

I searched over all of the records I had, plus went into the files given to me by my parents, and there wasn't any Matt listed anywhere.

First of all, Matt is not a name common in my family, or even in that part of Kentucky.

Second, he was born and died the same year as my mother.

Third, I have noticed a tendency that when a child died in New England, they often named the next child of that same sex the name of the deceased child.  That's not always the case in the South.  Many times, that child's name was just not spoken again.  It may have been  just too painful.

I have now come across forty babies.  I have not set out to discover them, for I didn't know they needed discovered.  At times, we may see a gap in the usual number of years between the births of children that may elude to a miscarriage or death.  But, in most of these cases I didn't know to look.  Little Matt was the last-born of a large family.  He could have easily been forgotten.

But, he and 39 other babies are not forgotten now...