Sometimes it's interesting to go back and see what I was up to in my former life as a blog writer. Having some extra time today I flipped through some old blog posts, noticing that one in particular kept popping up in my feed with several comments from readers I had not seen before. First I replied to the comments, even though the commenters may never see it. I have always been aware that I have many unknown readers. I reread the blog in question titled, A Very Special Soul Connection and decided to share it again to see what would happen. So here goes for your reading pleasure. It was first written on 1/14/2013. There will be an author's note at the end.
I'm beginning this post with a quote I recently found, "Miracles happen when fear is replaced by love". Sometimes you just have to say what you have to say and let the chips fall where they will. Today I want to talk about soulmate connections.
At one time I believed that a person only has one soulmate. I was wrong. We have many soulmates who come into our lives at various points. They are often present to help us deal with a serious problem, offer moral support in times of crisis or simply to encourage us to move past where we are and grow. They are sometimes close relatives, but most often are friends. It was once explained to me that these souls were the closest to us when we were first created. They come back life after life in different roles, as we all do. During my life I have had many soulmate experiences and I value them all.
Moving on up between earth and the angels we find the very special connection of souls who were created as twin flame soulmates. They are said to be two halves of a whole. That doesn't mean that they are running around with only half a body/mind. That would be pretty silly. It means they are as closely connected as two souls can be. If you think of it in terms of human twins created in the same sac in the same womb it makes sense. For the most part they both have all the body parts necessary to live a human life on their own.
It is rare that twin flame soulmates live a human life at the same time. When this happens the energy cannot be ignored. Even though they lead separate lives, have different opinions, a different purpose in being alive etc., there is something very special that they posses that sets them apart from all other soulmate relationships. That very special something is their humongous love connection. Again it has nothing to do with body parts of any kind. Well, okay with the exception of the heart.
These beings, when perfectly connected, often use telepathy to communicate. They have no need for electronic devices of any kind. They are able o read each other's minds with no effort at all. I personally believe that this unique ability is to aid in some kind of universal assignment that they are to carry out while on earth. I could be wrong, of course, It's just a guess based on my own experience.
Well my dear readers the reason I chose this subject to write about today is because I firmly believe that I may have connected with my twin soulmate. The current connection began about three years ago (2009) and has escalated to the point where I can no longer be deterred from my original belief. Perhaps both souls needed time to grow. What will happen next is yet to be determined and I am quite aware that the outcome is not entirely in my hands.
I will leave you with the thought I began with, "Miracles happen when fear is replaced by love".
Author's note: It has been four years and ten months since I wrote this post and even though we do still communicate- sort of, the person I believe to be my twin soulmate still does not feel/see what I do. Perhaps there is still some growing to do or perhaps it will never happen in this lifetime. What will be will be.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Thursday, September 28, 2017
And then came the rain
Just when I was bragging about our great weather here in Grants, NM the sky opened up and it started to rain. Okay it didn't rain for 40 days and 40 nights, but it did get everything soaked for two days. We did need the rain because it will keep potential wild fires at bay.
Last night we found a puddle of water in the middle of my office floor. Not seeing any evidence of a leak anywhere we temporarily blamed the dog. After all he had been in the house all day because of the weather. So I cleaned it up and didn't think anymore about it.
This morning my bathroom floor was all wet and I first thought the toilet had overflowed. Nope. The problem was a small leak in the ceiling. After adding a bucket to catch the water and cleaning up the mess I wondered into my office where I found a new puddle. After checking the ceiling I found the source. Since I had recently paid a so called repairman to check out the condition of the roof I was more than a little angry.
There really was no point in getting angry, it was what it was. Then I thought of all those pictures I had seen of people in Puerto Rico and Texas walking around in water up to their waist. They didn't have leaks in their roofs to deal with, they didn't even have roofs over their heads.
Knowing it is unusual for us to get so much rain in a couple of days I sent up a silent prayer for it to stop. Just maybe we could squeak by this winter and deal with the problem next spring. In the meantime I can do some research on a new roof and see what I can afford.
No more rain please!
P.S. I did apologize to my dog, Ejay this morning.
Last night we found a puddle of water in the middle of my office floor. Not seeing any evidence of a leak anywhere we temporarily blamed the dog. After all he had been in the house all day because of the weather. So I cleaned it up and didn't think anymore about it.
This morning my bathroom floor was all wet and I first thought the toilet had overflowed. Nope. The problem was a small leak in the ceiling. After adding a bucket to catch the water and cleaning up the mess I wondered into my office where I found a new puddle. After checking the ceiling I found the source. Since I had recently paid a so called repairman to check out the condition of the roof I was more than a little angry.
There really was no point in getting angry, it was what it was. Then I thought of all those pictures I had seen of people in Puerto Rico and Texas walking around in water up to their waist. They didn't have leaks in their roofs to deal with, they didn't even have roofs over their heads.
Knowing it is unusual for us to get so much rain in a couple of days I sent up a silent prayer for it to stop. Just maybe we could squeak by this winter and deal with the problem next spring. In the meantime I can do some research on a new roof and see what I can afford.
No more rain please!
P.S. I did apologize to my dog, Ejay this morning.
Saturday, September 23, 2017
By any other name
Who are you anyway?
Perhaps it's enough when going back generations just to get a first name and a relationship and forget the rest. I wonder if God remembers everyone's whole name or do we just go by a first name or possibly a number?
I just realized my new great granddaughter is being referred to as baby Juliet by her parents. This morning I found out her middle name is Lynn. I guess a middle name really doesn't make her any more whole.
Women get a bad break on the name game. Just as soon as they marry their last name changes. That is unless they are a celebrity. Then they get to keep the name they were born with whatever their gender. I remember when I began writing a column for our local paper. I refused to refer to women I was interviewing by their last name. For instance, Gunn said. I always added a Miss, Mrs.or Ms. or simply used their first name.To me it was disrespectful not to. If they were married their last name was only borrowed anyway.
In my case I'm no longer an original. I began life as Barbara Loure` Halverson, which changed to Barbara Smith in 1959 and again to Barbara Gunn in 1972. Where did I go?
I have been tying to sort out my relatives and I am about ready to give up. I keep asking myself, by any other name are you still you?
Perhaps it's enough when going back generations just to get a first name and a relationship and forget the rest. I wonder if God remembers everyone's whole name or do we just go by a first name or possibly a number?
I just realized my new great granddaughter is being referred to as baby Juliet by her parents. This morning I found out her middle name is Lynn. I guess a middle name really doesn't make her any more whole.
Women get a bad break on the name game. Just as soon as they marry their last name changes. That is unless they are a celebrity. Then they get to keep the name they were born with whatever their gender. I remember when I began writing a column for our local paper. I refused to refer to women I was interviewing by their last name. For instance, Gunn said. I always added a Miss, Mrs.or Ms. or simply used their first name.To me it was disrespectful not to. If they were married their last name was only borrowed anyway.
In my case I'm no longer an original. I began life as Barbara Loure` Halverson, which changed to Barbara Smith in 1959 and again to Barbara Gunn in 1972. Where did I go?
I have been tying to sort out my relatives and I am about ready to give up. I keep asking myself, by any other name are you still you?
Monday, September 18, 2017
Juliet and Irma
Last week was more than a little scary for my grandson and his wife. They were waiting for the birth of their first child and they were also waiting to see what hurricane Irma was going to do to their home on the east coast of Georgia. The due date was very close and they were afraid the hospital would be forced to close. There was no gas available and many businesses were closed.
My grandson said they had food, water and a generator and were going to wait out the storm.
I recalled that last year they had to postpone their wedding because of hurricane Matthew. The were forced to evacuate and had to change the place of their nuptials.They eventually managed to get everything under control and settled down to being married.
It wasn't long before they found out they were going to be parents and the baby was a girl.
Then came Irma and the birth of their daughter and my newest great granddaughter. I am very happy to introduce Juliet to my readers, born September 13th, 2017 weighing 9 lbs. 8oz. May she have a blessed life.
My grandson said they had food, water and a generator and were going to wait out the storm.
I recalled that last year they had to postpone their wedding because of hurricane Matthew. The were forced to evacuate and had to change the place of their nuptials.They eventually managed to get everything under control and settled down to being married.
It wasn't long before they found out they were going to be parents and the baby was a girl.
Then came Irma and the birth of their daughter and my newest great granddaughter. I am very happy to introduce Juliet to my readers, born September 13th, 2017 weighing 9 lbs. 8oz. May she have a blessed life.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
One life to live
One of the biggest lessons I have had to learn in this lifetime is I have one life to live- mine. I have always had a tendency to get sucked into other people's problems and challenges. Someone once advised me that I don't have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. She was right.
It is more than alright to be compassionate and supportive of other people, but I am not responsible for their challenges or the way they handle them. I have found that getting too involved sucks the life out of my life and it interferes with my well being.
Recently my strong intuition encouraged me to check into my genealogy and I followed through with that push. Something came up that happened 100 years ago. For awhile a relative that popped up tried to convince me that the event changed my current life and for awhile I actually believed her.
Time went by and my intuition held up a stop sign.
I asked myself if a decision made 100 years ago had anything to do with my life today and my answer was no. It just felt wrong to change anything just because someone else thought it was right.
Several times I have had to cut people, who at first appeared to be friends, out of my life because they were trying to live my life for me. Some people call that having spiritual knowledge. I call it interference.
I have also been on the other side of that coin and it was a costly place to be. We all should have a chance to live our own life and make our own decisions right or wrong. Perhaps this experience that dated back100 years was a final lesson to learn that I only have one life to live- mine.
It is more than alright to be compassionate and supportive of other people, but I am not responsible for their challenges or the way they handle them. I have found that getting too involved sucks the life out of my life and it interferes with my well being.
Recently my strong intuition encouraged me to check into my genealogy and I followed through with that push. Something came up that happened 100 years ago. For awhile a relative that popped up tried to convince me that the event changed my current life and for awhile I actually believed her.
Time went by and my intuition held up a stop sign.
I asked myself if a decision made 100 years ago had anything to do with my life today and my answer was no. It just felt wrong to change anything just because someone else thought it was right.
Several times I have had to cut people, who at first appeared to be friends, out of my life because they were trying to live my life for me. Some people call that having spiritual knowledge. I call it interference.
I have also been on the other side of that coin and it was a costly place to be. We all should have a chance to live our own life and make our own decisions right or wrong. Perhaps this experience that dated back100 years was a final lesson to learn that I only have one life to live- mine.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
My favorite childhood memory
One of my Facebook friends posted a question yesterday that caught my attention. It was, what is your favorite childhood memory? Not having a very happy childhood it took me some time before I came up with the answer, doing things with my grandmother.
Her reply was, "I can feel your love for her".
My maternal grandmother and step-grandfather were the people who taught me my values. I had a great deal of respect for both of them. My grandmother, better known as Nana was the person who taught me the Lord's Prayer, made sure I had piano and dance lessons and generally made me feel special. My younger brother and I spent many summers under her roof. I remember confiding to her things I would never have told my mother. She was never critical and always validated my feelings even when they were silly.
I loved helping her cook. Perhaps she was the one who woke up my enjoyment of trying new recipes. I especially remember her rhubarb pies and applesauce. Even today when I am peeling hard boiled eggs I can hear her saying, "Don't crack them too much or you won't be able to get the shell off". Another one of her admonishments was, "You don't hate anyone".
She always had flowers in her yard, especially roses, which today are my favorite flowers. My grandfather always brought her a cut rose every morning that they bloomed. Perhaps that's where I learned that one rose says so much more than an entire armful.
One particular memory when I was young stands out in my mind. She had written a bunch of checks to pay bills and asked me to go with her as she drove around town dropping them off. I got to hold on to them and hand her whatever one she needed. I felt like her secretary that day.
Another one that stands out was when she was installed as the presiding officer in the Order of Eastern Star. My mother had made her formal and she also made a matching one for me. I was probably around 8-10 years old. The dresses had a ton of lavender lazy daisy flowers made from yarn, hand tacked to the skirts. I assume my grandmother made them because she was always knitting or crocheting. I felt very important that day as she introduced me and the rest of her family. Her love of Masonic organizations led me to later become a member and much later a presiding officer of the Order of Rainbow for Girls and Job's Daughters. I believe it made her poud that I carried on the tradition.
It looks as if I was right. My favorite childhood memory is doing things with my grandmother. Even though she left this place called earth in 1984 I still feel close to her spirit. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she is one of my guides.
Her reply was, "I can feel your love for her".
My maternal grandmother and step-grandfather were the people who taught me my values. I had a great deal of respect for both of them. My grandmother, better known as Nana was the person who taught me the Lord's Prayer, made sure I had piano and dance lessons and generally made me feel special. My younger brother and I spent many summers under her roof. I remember confiding to her things I would never have told my mother. She was never critical and always validated my feelings even when they were silly.
I loved helping her cook. Perhaps she was the one who woke up my enjoyment of trying new recipes. I especially remember her rhubarb pies and applesauce. Even today when I am peeling hard boiled eggs I can hear her saying, "Don't crack them too much or you won't be able to get the shell off". Another one of her admonishments was, "You don't hate anyone".
She always had flowers in her yard, especially roses, which today are my favorite flowers. My grandfather always brought her a cut rose every morning that they bloomed. Perhaps that's where I learned that one rose says so much more than an entire armful.
One particular memory when I was young stands out in my mind. She had written a bunch of checks to pay bills and asked me to go with her as she drove around town dropping them off. I got to hold on to them and hand her whatever one she needed. I felt like her secretary that day.
Another one that stands out was when she was installed as the presiding officer in the Order of Eastern Star. My mother had made her formal and she also made a matching one for me. I was probably around 8-10 years old. The dresses had a ton of lavender lazy daisy flowers made from yarn, hand tacked to the skirts. I assume my grandmother made them because she was always knitting or crocheting. I felt very important that day as she introduced me and the rest of her family. Her love of Masonic organizations led me to later become a member and much later a presiding officer of the Order of Rainbow for Girls and Job's Daughters. I believe it made her poud that I carried on the tradition.
It looks as if I was right. My favorite childhood memory is doing things with my grandmother. Even though she left this place called earth in 1984 I still feel close to her spirit. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she is one of my guides.
Saturday, September 9, 2017
A failed experiment
I am very grateful that I have a primary care person who is on my side of health issues. We just completed an experiment that failed. I am sharing my experience in case someone else may have this issue.
Back in May I had an attack of gout. Never had it before and still am not sure what caused it. Since then I have had blood tests and found that the uric acid is very high. Gout is caused when the body produces too much and it causes crystals to form in places like the toes, which is what happened in my case.
I began paying more attention to my diet and added yogurt, which is supposed to help. I also added vitamins B12 and C. In researching I noticed that taking a water pill for high blood pressure can also cause gout. After a second blood test showing the uric acid level was still high I decided to eliminate the water pill from my blood pressure medication to see what would happen.
I was aware that a change in medication would take awhile for the body to adjust so I was prepared, I thought. During the following 9 days I kept a record of what it was doing. The readings went crazy and reached a dangerous level. I checked in with my primary care person and we had no choice but to put the water pill back in. I took the medication for the first time this morning and the reading was much better. I know it's going to take a couple of days to get it back to what is normal for me, but it is heading in the right direction.
Ben said, " I am more concerned with your blood pressure then the fact that you could have a gout attack once or twice a year." I totally agree with him. It's been four months since I had the attack so I am not terribly worried that it will come back. If it does at least now I know what is happening and I have medication I can take right away to stop it.
This is the story of my experience and I hope it helps someone.
Back in May I had an attack of gout. Never had it before and still am not sure what caused it. Since then I have had blood tests and found that the uric acid is very high. Gout is caused when the body produces too much and it causes crystals to form in places like the toes, which is what happened in my case.
I began paying more attention to my diet and added yogurt, which is supposed to help. I also added vitamins B12 and C. In researching I noticed that taking a water pill for high blood pressure can also cause gout. After a second blood test showing the uric acid level was still high I decided to eliminate the water pill from my blood pressure medication to see what would happen.
I was aware that a change in medication would take awhile for the body to adjust so I was prepared, I thought. During the following 9 days I kept a record of what it was doing. The readings went crazy and reached a dangerous level. I checked in with my primary care person and we had no choice but to put the water pill back in. I took the medication for the first time this morning and the reading was much better. I know it's going to take a couple of days to get it back to what is normal for me, but it is heading in the right direction.
Ben said, " I am more concerned with your blood pressure then the fact that you could have a gout attack once or twice a year." I totally agree with him. It's been four months since I had the attack so I am not terribly worried that it will come back. If it does at least now I know what is happening and I have medication I can take right away to stop it.
This is the story of my experience and I hope it helps someone.
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
Happy 16th birthday Colin
My youngest grandson will be 16 on Friday. Today I was thinking about some of the unusual gifts I have given him. The first one that came to my mind was a large roll of bubble wrap. He loved the gift but his parents made him go outside to pop it. Have no clue why.
Last year for Christmas I gave him the little dinosaur ladles used for soup etc. In addition I found some unusual soup bowls. They had a place along the side of the bowl to put crackers or a cut sandwich. This gift included a selection of crackers and several cans of soup. Chicken noodle has always been his favorite.
This year being his 16th birthday I wanted to come up with something that none of his friends would probably have. I happened to see a website to name a star and have it registered. I mentioned it to him a few weeks ago to see if he was interested. He was and tonight we are getting together to order it. The name of the star will probably be Colin Chace. So if you see it floating around in the galaxy say hi to my grandson for me and wish him a happy birthday.
Last year for Christmas I gave him the little dinosaur ladles used for soup etc. In addition I found some unusual soup bowls. They had a place along the side of the bowl to put crackers or a cut sandwich. This gift included a selection of crackers and several cans of soup. Chicken noodle has always been his favorite.
This year being his 16th birthday I wanted to come up with something that none of his friends would probably have. I happened to see a website to name a star and have it registered. I mentioned it to him a few weeks ago to see if he was interested. He was and tonight we are getting together to order it. The name of the star will probably be Colin Chace. So if you see it floating around in the galaxy say hi to my grandson for me and wish him a happy birthday.
Sunday, September 3, 2017
The journey home
August 31, Labor Day weekend 1979, was an interesting time in my life. It was the weekend I brought home my youngest child and my only girl. Christina Marie was born in Albuquerque, NM at Presbyterian Hospital at 4:45 P.M.
When one of the Laguna Reservation Nuns was told her name she said, "Oh you named her after Christ Mary". Wrong! Her first name Christina was for a Swedish princess who became a queen at a very young age. A maternal great grandfather Godfrey Halverson was born in Sweden. Marie was for her Spanish paternal grandmother Marie (Mary) Milan and her French maternal great grandmother Laura Marie Laviolette . So she ended up being a mixture of several generations.
The Labor Day weekend in 1979 began very early on Friday morning with a trip to Presbyterian Hospital almost 100 miles away from Old Laguna where we lived at the time. My husband, Donald was working a night shift at the mines, my due date had passed and the doctor decided since we lived so far away it would be a good idea to start labor. Her actual birth took most of the day and her father was present in the delivery room. His first comment upon holding her was, "She has fingernails".
Because I didn't live in Albuquerque I was not released until Sunday, as a precaution. My doctor had a very busy weekend with way too many babies to deliver. I can still see him, exhausted, sitting in my room waiting to release me. Even though I was over 40 the birth and recovery went very well. I had an amniocentesis early in the pregnancy so I knew she was a girl before she arrived. I had already named her. That test was very stressful because the cells had to grow a second time, causing me to have to wait for the results for about four months.
Leaving the hospital we began the trip home. On the way we stopped off at the Catholic church to introduce Christina to Father Bill, the Pastor. I remember lifting her out the passenger window and putting her into his arms for a blessing. The surprised look on his face was hilarious.
The next stop was home. We were met by her paternal grandfather, Wally and I allowed him to carry her into the house and lay her in her crib. I noticed a very large bear that my son David, who was 13 at the time, had purchased and placed in the crib. We ended up naming it using the Spanish word for water. (I know the word I just can't spell it!) My other son Jeffrey 18 was in the Army at the time and didn't meet Christina for several months.
Well that's the story of the journey home
When one of the Laguna Reservation Nuns was told her name she said, "Oh you named her after Christ Mary". Wrong! Her first name Christina was for a Swedish princess who became a queen at a very young age. A maternal great grandfather Godfrey Halverson was born in Sweden. Marie was for her Spanish paternal grandmother Marie (Mary) Milan and her French maternal great grandmother Laura Marie Laviolette . So she ended up being a mixture of several generations.
The Labor Day weekend in 1979 began very early on Friday morning with a trip to Presbyterian Hospital almost 100 miles away from Old Laguna where we lived at the time. My husband, Donald was working a night shift at the mines, my due date had passed and the doctor decided since we lived so far away it would be a good idea to start labor. Her actual birth took most of the day and her father was present in the delivery room. His first comment upon holding her was, "She has fingernails".
Because I didn't live in Albuquerque I was not released until Sunday, as a precaution. My doctor had a very busy weekend with way too many babies to deliver. I can still see him, exhausted, sitting in my room waiting to release me. Even though I was over 40 the birth and recovery went very well. I had an amniocentesis early in the pregnancy so I knew she was a girl before she arrived. I had already named her. That test was very stressful because the cells had to grow a second time, causing me to have to wait for the results for about four months.
Leaving the hospital we began the trip home. On the way we stopped off at the Catholic church to introduce Christina to Father Bill, the Pastor. I remember lifting her out the passenger window and putting her into his arms for a blessing. The surprised look on his face was hilarious.
The next stop was home. We were met by her paternal grandfather, Wally and I allowed him to carry her into the house and lay her in her crib. I noticed a very large bear that my son David, who was 13 at the time, had purchased and placed in the crib. We ended up naming it using the Spanish word for water. (I know the word I just can't spell it!) My other son Jeffrey 18 was in the Army at the time and didn't meet Christina for several months.
Well that's the story of the journey home
Saturday, September 2, 2017
How did you get here?
Birth used to be a fairly simple matter, but not anymore. Now a female doesn't even need to touch a male and a baby is created from a sperm bank. Surrogates are everywhere. Healthy grandmothers can now give birth to a grandchild. Then there is adoption at birth, which can create all kinds of problems for not only the child but his/her entire family. An adoption can either be open or closed. I have had experiences with both.
As a columnist for the Cibola Beacon I interviewed a new mother whose first child was adopted through an agency. The adoption was open and the very young birth mother was allowed to keep tabs on the child through the years. She was given access to photos etc.and even had occasional visits. I'm not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was the way this family chose to deal with the situation.
In my family there are at least two instances of a child being adopted. Both times there was no information given to the child about the birth. In both cases the families are looking for biological relatives.
Another unusual situation was my deceased daughter-in-law who found out as a teenager that her birth parents were really her aunt and uncle. She said it was devastating for her.
When a child is given up for adoption it creates three points of view. 1.the birth mother, 2.the adoptive mother and 3.the child.
Personally I think adoption should be open to the child if he/she desires to know the circumstances of the birth. It's really nobody else's business and the rest of the family should just butt out.
As a columnist for the Cibola Beacon I interviewed a new mother whose first child was adopted through an agency. The adoption was open and the very young birth mother was allowed to keep tabs on the child through the years. She was given access to photos etc.and even had occasional visits. I'm not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was the way this family chose to deal with the situation.
In my family there are at least two instances of a child being adopted. Both times there was no information given to the child about the birth. In both cases the families are looking for biological relatives.
Another unusual situation was my deceased daughter-in-law who found out as a teenager that her birth parents were really her aunt and uncle. She said it was devastating for her.
When a child is given up for adoption it creates three points of view. 1.the birth mother, 2.the adoptive mother and 3.the child.
Personally I think adoption should be open to the child if he/she desires to know the circumstances of the birth. It's really nobody else's business and the rest of the family should just butt out.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Math has never been my thing
Math was my worst subject in high school. Lately I have had a problem deciding whether to add or subtract. I finally decided to subtract and it's making my life less stressful.
For years I have known that my grandparents had a son not too long after my mother was born. He showed up on some Ancestry.com information a couple of years ago. The child had no name, which I thought was rather odd. That created questions that have puzzled me for some time. Did he die in childbirth or maybe he was given up for adoption for some reason?
I have not only found out he was indeed adopted, but I know his adopted name and have information about his life and new family as he grew up. He died in 1998. For awhile last night I thought that was cool until my brain began working. I even put his adopted name on my family tree as my mother's brother for a few hours.
I have not been able to discover why the baby was adopted, but it must have been a mutual decision between my grandparents. One of my maternal cousins had said that she didn't know anything about the "Mysterious baby". She suggested it was no doubt a family secret.
After thinking about that statement from my cousin, Ruth, I have chosen to delete his name from my family tree and my life. Choosing to honor my grandparent's decision to keep the information a secret is the right thing to do. Perhaps the information was meant just for me and the decision to add or subtract it from my current life was mine alone.
For years I have known that my grandparents had a son not too long after my mother was born. He showed up on some Ancestry.com information a couple of years ago. The child had no name, which I thought was rather odd. That created questions that have puzzled me for some time. Did he die in childbirth or maybe he was given up for adoption for some reason?
I have not only found out he was indeed adopted, but I know his adopted name and have information about his life and new family as he grew up. He died in 1998. For awhile last night I thought that was cool until my brain began working. I even put his adopted name on my family tree as my mother's brother for a few hours.
I have not been able to discover why the baby was adopted, but it must have been a mutual decision between my grandparents. One of my maternal cousins had said that she didn't know anything about the "Mysterious baby". She suggested it was no doubt a family secret.
After thinking about that statement from my cousin, Ruth, I have chosen to delete his name from my family tree and my life. Choosing to honor my grandparent's decision to keep the information a secret is the right thing to do. Perhaps the information was meant just for me and the decision to add or subtract it from my current life was mine alone.
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