Posts Tagged ‘family’
Genealogic Gem
About that new relative that contacted me, which I made mention of in yesterday’s post… She shared a most interesting tidbit in subsequent email exchanges.
First, let me say that the whole reason I started investigating my family history was because I wanted to learn why the surname, “Hays,” in my family, is spelled without the “e” that people so commonly choose to insert when writing my name. “Hayes” is more often than not, the default spelling. The short answer to the question of why the two similar names have different spellings is most likely related to the place of origin. Spelling without the “e” aligns more with an Irish or Scottish source, while the spelling with the “e” identifies as more English. The root of the Irish name goes back to “Hay.” If the spelling had stayed at that, it would have simplified everything.
When I received the message through Ancestry.com a couple days ago, the very first thing I noticed was that the name of the ancestor in question appearing in the subject line was spelled, “Hayes.” It is like finger nails on a blackboard irritating. Of all places, in my own family tree!
I did a little quick research to clarify that the “Charles W. Hayes” being referred to, matched my data collected thus far. I found a record of the 1910 United States Federal Census in which Charles’ entire family, including his mother –my great, great-grandmother– were listed with the last name spelled, “Hayes.” Charles was definitely part of my family tree, but why in the heck the “e” in the spelling?
I queried my new contact and was more than intrigued at her response:
“Yes, according to my grandfather he and his brother John had a falling out when they were very young and grandfather added the e to his name. He and his brother never saw each other after that.”
I never would have guessed at something like this. Family drama aside, the discovery that family members were choosing to insert the “e” when I am on a quest to identify why we don’t spell it with an “e” just boggles my mind. Meanwhile, what could my great-grandfather and his brother have been at odds about that would lead to such animosity?
It’s enough to inspire a person toward genealogy research. It’s not all just about names. There are stories connected to all those people.
Brothers John Waters and Charles W. were the two who had a falling out.
Mission Accomplished
We celebrated Julian’s graduation in Chicago from the Illinois Institute of Technology in grand fashion over the weekend. The weather was wonderful and everything seemed to go just as planned and right on schedule. As I predicted, we ate more than we should, but each restaurant meal was its own celebration. Over the three days we accomplished a fine recognition of this education milestone. Cyndie’s parents said this was number 21 or 22 for graduation ceremonies they had attended for their children and grandchildren between high school, and the multitude of college degrees earned. My kids have 6 cousins on that side of the family, so if the grandparents live long enough, there will be plenty more high school and college graduations yet to attend.
Speak a Positive Message
I can’t think. My head hurts. It seems I have developed a cold. Where does thinking go when it disappears?
I find it particularly annoying to be sick with a cold during the spring or summer. It just doesn’t seem logical and it doesn’t feel fair. Is that one of the reasons our parents teach us that life isn’t fair?
Last night it struck me that something I have been trying to develop in myself related to my desire to strive for optimal health, is something that I didn’t have the benefit of witnessing within my family growing up. I want to send positive messages in my home with my words. There was a fair amount of sarcasm in my family that became a pattern I developed and executed all too well. Speaking positive messages did not come naturaly for me. It takes a fair amount of practice and a concerted dedication to enact changes in patterns that have been developed over the most impressionable years of a life.
I don’t recall ever specifically feeling any doubt that my family loved and supported me. That familial love was present in a way that I intuitively sensed and the nonverbal message of it provided plenty of comfort. But the verbal messages were coded. It was rarely as simple and clear as, “I love you” or “You are the best!”
Verbalizing positive messages to those with whom you live and work just may be the most dramatic positive influence you can create for the least amount of energy. Even when you are miserable and totally drained from having a cold, you can speak of love and appreciation. And the reward is doubled, because both the person speaking and the person hearing such a message are rewarded with positive, healthy energy.
I invite you to make an effort to listen to the words you speak and the messages you are sending to those closest to you this week. See if you become inspired to develop a more conscious pattern of verbalizing positive messages that will seed better feelings for both yourself and the people around you.
Considering Birth Order
Somewhat out of context, I find the topic of birth order on my mind of late. Like so many other things in life, when I begin to think on this in a more focused manner, it appears to take on a significance so great as to be all encompassing. It defines most everything about people and social habits and opinions and behaviors and reactions to situations. At the same time, when birth order is entirely disregarded and unacknowledged, it becomes a trivial anecdote in comparison to the dramatic realities that transpire throughout lives daily.
I am absolutely certain that my birth order of being the 6th of 7 births for my parents, and the 5th of 6 children to grow up together, has been prominent in defining the person and personality that is me. One aspect of my birth order is that I didn’t ever develop a close bond with my parents. It was a rather formal distance of respect for their authority and appreciation for their providing for me. Much of my direct contact and physical interaction came from siblings, as Mom and Dad were occupied with higher level details. When older siblings were off to school in my pre-school years, my memory of care-taker is a neighbor woman who no longer had young children at home. She worked for us doing cleaning and helping my mother.
Recently, I became aware again of my memory of times when I would notice that my parents rarely were present to watch my sports games in school or my choir performances. Seldom did I notice it as a lacking, because it seemed normal to me. But there were times when it engendered feelings of loneliness for their support and attention. Ultimately, at the time, I considered it more of a blessing than a curse as I was afforded quite a bit of autonomy compared to some of my friends. One incident in which my mother did agree to be a volunteer parent supervising one of my school events made a significant memory for both Mom and me. It was when I was in Middle School and for some reason that evades my memory, I was the student in charge of the inaugural event we named, “Friday Fun Night.” For the rest of her life, I heard her tell the story of how amazed she was at how responsible and capable she discovered me to be when she witnessed me order pizzas and direct the variety of events that were planned for the night.
As I think on it now, it comes to mind that it was indeed only some of my friends that had closer parental support and scrutiny. We were late members of the much ballyhooed Baby Boom. There were an incredible number of kids in my grade in school who had older siblings that were in the same class-years of school as my older brother and sisters. I guess most of the parents of that time of large families were stretched thin to the point of allowing the younger kids to fend more for themselves and rely on older siblings for support. For most of the gatherings of my gang of classmates that I remember, we had little, if any, interaction with parents.
The influence of birth order gives me new insight to consider for the multitude of families I’ve uncovered in my personal genealogy research that had large numbers of children. I will now make a point to note the birth order of my ancestors when filling out the details of the grand story of my family’s history.
No Scrubbies
Hardly a hitch on the great winter 2010 version of Hays reunion weekend in Wisconsin except for the flat tire that appeared for no apparent reason on Elysa’s car, and the unfortunate situation that occurred in the kitchen when it was discovered we had no scrubbies to execute the cleaning chore required. Let’s just say, we have no shortage of foodstuffs to sustain us during our local winter games. Not all the games required outdoor exercise… Ask Nick about his Peggle conquests.
If Judy were here, this might not have happened
Winter Reunion
Today we wake in the wonderland of winter at a place we call Wildwood with a subset of Hays relatives that have gathered for the weekend of snow fun and cabin, …oh, wait, that’s “cabin” in quotes to clarify that this fabulous place does not fit the literal definition of a cabin, …anyway, that was a weekend of cabin fun! Some family haven’t visited here in over a decade and other young ones have never been here before. To those of you in the family who were unable to make the trek into the woods of northwest Wisconsin, here are a few early snapshots to get you started:
(Judy, Marebare says “Hi, we miss you.” Tricia thinks that by saying so, she is just trying to poke you, as little sisters are wont to do…)
Remember where we are?
Playin' in the porch on Friday night
Little cereal to tide over till the main event!
Makings of the main event before they have risen
Evidence of not much new snow here lately
Happy David Day
How many people have a little brother whose birthday happens to be today? I wonder if he reads here or whether I should find a better way to send him a greeting. I have an idea, how about you all surprise him with messages, too! Especially, if you don’t actually know him. You can tell him I sent you. Write to him at drghays at yahoo dot com. David, if you are reading here today, just ignore the last paragraph. Happy birthday.
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Here is a present for you, from me. An update on our investment:
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The 1969 Boss Hoss Mustang was one of 3 chrome cars that were given as a part of the Hot Wheels Club Kit in 1970. There was the Heavy Chevy (Camaro), King Kuda (Barracuda) and the Boss Hoss (Mustang).
The Mustang is the most common of the three with the Heavy Chevy being the rarest. The Mustang in mint condition with it’s stripes intact is worth about $25.
'69 Hot Wheels Chrome "Boss Hoss" Mustang
Interesting that if it’s worth about $25, how come in auction, bids are over double that? People are funny. But we know it’s not worth nothin’ unless you sell it. SELL IT!? You gotta be kidding! Then I wouldn’t get to play with it. Don’t worry, it’s safe with me. I’ll put it back in a safe place in a min… in a few… in a little while.
Creating Christmas Memories
This is what Christmas is all about. There is no comparison for the little ones who are just learning the wonderful moments that make up the gathering of loved ones for festive foods, bunches of laughter and, of course, the giving of gifts.
About 22 years ago, with just our little 1-year-old daughter, Cyndie and I moved from our home in Minneapolis back to the suburb where we grew up. In Cyndie’s search for local baby-sitters at that time, she decided to check with the nearby churches to see if there was anyone they might recommend. She struck gold. We didn’t know how lucky we were at the time, but it seemed pretty great that there was a young girl who lived within walking distance that they referred us to.
Melissa rather quickly moved from just baby-sitting to more extended child-care and then our summer girl and ultimately became a natural extended member of our family. She not only took care of our kids when they were young, she stayed connected as they grew and went off to college. She stayed connected even as she grew up, got married and started her own family.
Last night we kicked off this year’s Christmas events with Mel’s family, over to our house for dinner and presents. What a treat to have people like this in our lives to share the love of family and the nurturing of children toward healthy, happy developing individuals. We are truly blessed.
We have a pretty funny tradition that has unintentionally developed between Cyndie and Mel’s husband, Greg. It started quite a few years ago when Cyndie gave Greg a snow-globe ornament that she had seen in a catalog. When he got it all unwrapped from the protective packing material, the little scene inside that was supposed to be a quaint winter landscape was revealed. It looked kinda spooky. What was supposed to be a tree that had lost all its leaves, looked more like a tree that had lost its life, …years ago. But this snow-globe was a deluxe model. It came with sound-effects. We found a battery and turned it on. I think it was supposed to sound like wind, and occasionally, a crow calling from the dead tree. It sounded as spooky as it looked and the squawking conjured up visions of horror movies more than anything pleasant about winter. I can’t imagine what Greg must have thought about this family that Mel had gotten mixed up with. He ever so graciously navigated receiving that lemon of a gift and it has become a great source of laughter ever since.
Poor Greg must flinch whenever he learns it is time to visit the Hays family for a Christmas gift exchange again. This year, Cyndie gave him the option, before he even opened his present, to exchange it for a gift card to Home Depot. He politely took her up on the offer after he saw the plastic mold of the front end of a 69 Corvette with a 3″ wide piece of glass that rests on top to make a shelf to hang on the wall. Um, I guess it looked a lot more impressive in the catalog.
Avert Your Eyes
The holiday collage-photo was hastily thrown together at the last minute on Sunday when Cyndie asked for something to send to her friends. I regret that it is ripe for critique in all aspects of artistic integrity and discretion of composition. The kids in front of an icy waterfall in the high country of Norway, wearing their sunglasses, and totally out of context head shots of mom and dad pasted in opposite corners –Cyndie dressed for work, John from his Himalayan trek. I’m sorry. Now it just needs the annual letter describing more minutiae about each person than can be believed and we have a classic package.
I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything about it and carry on with my usual activities as if I have nothing new to be embarrassed about. Too bad that it is like the proverbial car crash. It’s awful to witness, but you can’t get yourself to look away. Oh boy. What have I done?
Remember Anytime
It may be the contrarian aspect of my character, but for no obvious reason –say maybe a birthday, anniversary, or Mother’s Day– I find myself thinking about Mom today. Not just a passing thought, but a really robust feeling of closeness to everything that comes to mind when I think about her. And it’s all wonderful. I can think of a variety of potential triggers that likely combined to bring this on, not the least of which involves Thanksgiving and Christmas memories of childhood. So, for no other reason than today is the second day of December, I am claiming this a valid day to celebrate the memory of my wonderful mother, Betty.
Relative Something 
