What I Thought I Knew

I know that William Jedediah Brimley is my grandfather. I know I never met him. He died in April 1943. I know that my grandmother is Margaret Kirk. I never met her. She died in 1930. In the 1880 census in Salt Lake they were both shown living with their families in the "5th Ward." She was 13 and he 24. (It says 24, but our records would make him 23.) His occupation was listed as "teamster." Aunt Janeen thinks he delivered groceries from their store in the wagon. In 1885 they married and in July 1891 they were sealed in the Manti Temple. My Dad was born in Manti in 1891, the fourth child. Aunt Janeen says they lived in Manti for one year. I also know that my Dad loved his father very much and that he practically worshiped his mother.

What I didn't know is: on September 20, 1927 William Jedediah was sealed in the Salt Lake Temple to Elizabeth Helen Evans, who died in 1883 at the age of 19. Dad and I looked at the actual Temple record of this event yesterday at the Family History Library. We know the name of the officiator, the names of the witnesses, the name of the proxy who stood in for Elizabeth, and we know that William Jedediah stood for himself. What we don't know is who this woman was and how she knew my grandfather.

Looking at the census records has told me some things. I know that in 1880 Elizabeth lived with her parents in Salt Lake, in the "4th Ward." She worked as a servant for a family that lived in the "7th Ward." There was a child in the home where she worked who had measles at the time of the census. I saw a lot of measles on the censuses and in those days it was often fatal. So...if these two were married when they were young, it was only for a short while. They may have been sweethearts and never had a chance to marry. I am going to try to find a death certificate for her (so far, no luck) and see if it lists her as single or married at the time of her death.

Aunt Janeen has spoken to some of William Jedediah"s grandchildren in Arizona and they never heard of such a thing.

So we have a mystery! The new Family Search has uncovered several mysteries, but this one is ours. Suddenly I care about this woman. And I care more about my grandmother, Margaret Kirk, whose husband had to get at least verbal permission from her to have this sealing performed. I am learning that this is one of the most important results of Family History. We get to know these people and we learn to care about them a great deal. Elizabeth Helen Evans is no relation to me, but she must have meant something to my grandfather!

Mama

Today is Mama's birthday. March 2, 1899. Some of you remember her, a lot of you don't. She was the only child of Samantha and Heber C. She was talented and industrious and little. I'm not sure why we called her "Mama" and not Mom. Maybe it was Daddy that set that pattern. I can still hear him say "your little Mama." She led choirs, taught piano lessons all the years I knew her, painted and wallpapered our house many times, and cooked fabulous spreads for their friends and ours. Most of all, she taught me the Gospel and helped me gain a testimony. She attended school in Preston, ID at the Oneida Academy. Her friends were Harold B. Lee, Ezra Taft Benson and many others. Her parents moved from Idaho to SLC so she would have more opportunities with her music. She died Sept. 23, 1979. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now. Some years ago Aunt Carol challenged me to write something about Mama. Here it is:
Dear Mama,
Life without you goes on.
Children grow up – ours have.
Grandchildren come – twelve so far.
I try to treat them like you did mine.
Missionaries come and go;
all five sons. But still it is life
without you. You and I
never said goodbye.
Goodbye Mama,
Your baby girl
I have so missed being able to share your lives with her. I know she knows about all of you and all of the great things you and your families are doing. It's hard to not be able to have conversations, though.

MATTHEW

Today is Matthew's birthday. 39 years ago today, I was ready to have a baby. Boy, was I ready. I'd like to write a few things about that day.

It's 10am now. At this time 39 years ago I was heading to the doctor for another appointment. I was already a week overdue. Matthew is the second child and I had Samantha 1month late, so I didn't want to see a pattern. (It was a pattern, though, that carried through all 7 times.) My parents were in town and had to be leaving. So I had decided to push the doctor for some help. He gave in and said he would meet us at the hospital at 5pm. I came to realize that the only reason he agreed was because he could see I was already in the early stages of labor. So I went home and let things happen. There was a girl in our University ward that was pregnant and we were racing each other to see who would go first. I called her to give her the news and she was already in the hospital. But Matthew was born first. 5:35pm Feb. 4, 1969.

In 1969 father's were not allowed in the delivery room. Old school, I know. This was our first experience at LDS Hospital, since Samantha was born in LA. All the rest of our children were born at LDS and John Z. Brown was the OB all the time. He died some years ago. He was a good doctor and had a sense of humor, so we got along.

At the time of Matthew's birth we lived on Whitlock Ave. in Sugar House. It was a two bedroom home, big back yard, and we paid $110 a month. Dad was working for the church as a computer programmer and going to school at the U with help from the GI Bill. He graduated in May of 1969.

We were so grateful to have a son to go with our daughter. We had no idea then that we would be so blessed with so many fabulous kids. Tender mercies from the Lord.

JAZZED!

Last night we went to the Jazz game. Rach gave us tickets for Christmas. We had a huge snowstorm yesterday but it was over and the roads were pretty-much cleared by the time we went. The Jazz played the San Antonio Spurs. That's not a good thing, usually. They never beat the Spurs. And Tim Duncan is always a whiner. We parked at the Gateway and walked across the street. Our seats were high up but right at half-court. It was great. Dad and I realized we hadn't been out like that for a long time. Before the game started they had a moment of silence to honor Pres. Hinckley. That wouldn't happen in a lot of places. The Jazz won! 97-91. It was a great game and we had loads of fun. Our thanks again to Rach for this very, very fun gift.

Passing

I don't like the phrase "passes away" or "passed on" or anything like that. I don't like "died" either. But regardless of what I like, Pres. Hinckley has died. That's a big thing. I am sad to realize that we will not be seeing him wave his cane or smile at his little jokes any more. He has been a presence in our lives for a long time. But I am overjoyed at the thought of his reunion with his wife. (How excited she must have been to know he was coming.) And reunions with his dear friends like, Pres. Faust, Pres. Hunter, Elder Maxwell, Elder Haight and many others.

Pres. Hinckley was born when Mama was 11 yrs. old. Daddy was almost 19 and would soon go on his own Mission to England. Mama and Daddy knew a lot of Pres. of the Church and apostles, but I don't recall ever hearing them mention Gordon B. Hinckley. They were both gone before he became Pres. Hinckley.

For all of our grandchildren, Pres. Hinckley is the only church president they remember. That was the way it was for me and Pres. McKay. I saw George Albert Smith once when we were visiting my grandparents on the Avenues. But mostly it was Pres. McKay. When he died in 1970 people were heard to say, "what will we ever do?" He had been president since 1951. But he was old and weak and unable to attend General Conference before he died. The beauty is that the church will not miss a beat. We will all be sad and will mourn Pres. Hinckley, and rejoice for him, but the work will not be interrupted. We were spoiled. We thought he would last forever, maybe, like I did with my mother. When we saw signs of weakness, as we did at the Christmas Fireside 2007, we hoped they were temporary. But they weren't.

Let me tell you something I learned when my parents died. Especially my mother. It always hurts. Be careful what you say to people who have just lost a parent or spouse. I don't ever say "she lived such a good life...you were so lucky" or "she's in a better place." All of that is true. But I was 9 months pregnant and missed my mother. That's what I learned. It's a very selfish time. You miss them and think about your life without them.

But, back to Pres. Hinckley. This morning's paper had a whole section just about him. Ellen brought it over for us. Pictures of him and things he has done, places he has traveled and so many things he has said. I am grateful for his life and I will miss him.

Anniversaries

Today is the 75th anniversary of my parents marriage. January 25, 1933. That's a long time ago. We have been married for 42 years. If my calculations are correct, our oldest child will celebrate 20 years of marriage this year. So we don't come close.

When Mama died in 1979, at age 80, they had been married 46 years; had 5 children, and 21 grandchildren. One month after her death Jed was born and a few days after that Ann Schiess was born. Totaling 23 grandchildren. At that time there were no great grandchildren from their 5 children, but now there are lots.

In January 1933 Mama was 33 and Daddy was 41. Kind of late in life to start a new family. Mama had waited a long time for this blessing. She had seen Daddy at the Agricultural College (now Utah State) some time earlier. She said when she saw him she was going to marry him someday. It took a while. They started dating when he lived on the Avenues, not far from Grandma and Grandpa Nelson and Mama. Grandma Nelson was not happy about it, since Daddy was divorced. Grandma Nelson was good at letting her feelings be known.

Since I am their youngest child, I have always been grateful that they continued having their family. I still miss them, even though they have been gone for close to 30 years.

Remembering

Dad and I serve on the West Bountiful Arts Council. We do good things for the community. One of the best is a free concert the 2nd Friday of every month, featuring local talent. Last Friday the performer was Mike Murphy. (How many of you took guitar from him at Viewmont?) This was an encore performance for him. He was our very first concert and we didn't quite know what we were doing then, so we invited him back 11/2 yrs. later.

He sings a lot of original songs and accompanies himself on the guitar. Friday night he used a vocalizer. He pushes a button with his foot and suddenly his voice is singing two parts in harmony. The vocalizer follows the guitar chords. It was so cool.

Anyway, he sang a lot of his songs and then a lot of John Denver. We used to play John Denver all the time. The first one he sang was Grandma's Feather Bed. Memories flooded. I could see you kids running around in the living room, singing "nine feet high, ten feet wide, soft as a downy chick." I also remembered all the times we piled on our waterbed and watched Mash, or whatever else. Somewhere in the house there is a picture of a lot of us on the bed. If I can find it, I'll post it.

We listened to Neil Sedaka ("OOH, I hear laughter in the rain, walkin' hand in hand with the one I love") and Helen Reddy a lot ("I am woman, hear me roar"). Especially when we lived in the apartment while we were building this house. I can't find those albums, though. I found a ring tone of Dave Matthews' "Ants Marching." I'm tempted. Guess my tastes have expanded.