2012? Really?

Wow! 2012---it seemed like such a big number when I first saw it on my retirement benefit profile in 1979 (!).  Last night just before I fell asleep I was thinking about this post and realized 2012 will be the 10th anniversary of Mom's death.  Ten years!  I wasn't sleepy anymore upon that realization.  So I guess I've been thinking about dates and life timelines (or lifetime lines).

Nanny and Mom were each married at the age of 22 (or nearly so) and had their first child at age 23 (or nearly so).  Amy's 23.  When I was 22, I started working in Harpursville so it's kind of a nice transition between the generations.  I was almost 40 when Mary Jane died.  We moved to Walton when Mom was almost 40 and I don't think her life was ever the same again after that.  All other events seemed to be categorized "before" or "after" these points on the lifetime line.

Other kinds of life events help fill out the details of the lives of those that have gone before us.  Did you realize Weenie was our closest bloodline first generation American?  Both his parents were immigrants and he was their first child.  Born in America.  Born in Emporium PA among members of his mother's family.  I don't know if Weenie ever met his German grandmother but I do know his Irish grandmother had died before he was born.  This demographic must have impacted his life and I truly wish I'd realized that many many years ago when I could have asked him about it.  He's been gone almost 30 years now yet the memories still seem rich and detailed to me.

Anyway, I had a bit of a breakthrough with the Irish Ryans!  I finally found a birth record for the first of our Ryans born in America!  Catharine Ryan was born in Boston in 1856.  She had two older siblings born in Newfoundland so that helps me place the family prior to their journey to America.  I'd been looking for them in Gloucester but on a hunch, I tried Boston and there they were!  Just waiting for me to find this one little line buried in the record books over 150 years ago.  Now that I know they were in Boston in 1856, it helps piece together the puzzle of the old fisherman Timothy (the furthest back Ryan I've found so far)--it appears that perhaps the naturalization record I have does actually belong to him.  NCIS has nothing on me.  So I know you're just praying I'll share it with you.  Wish granted:

Click to enlarge.  I told you it was hidden.  Happy 2012.

One more sleep before Christmas

This dessert tray of Mom's is a sure sign of a holiday celebration.  I don't remember it ever seeing the light of day unless it was a holiday.  Mom didn't bake many cookies for Christmas but for some reason I couldn't stop baking them this year.  I think it was some kind of empty nest reaction to satisfy my "need" to stay busy.  Busy hands and all that. 

It's Christmas Eve and there is a very light dusting of snow on the ground this morning.  Not really enough to put me in the proper holiday spirit.  I've struggled a little bit this year getting into the spirit of things, swinging back and forth between HO HO HO and

I think I'm a bit better off than I have been in years past in that regard.  There is a great deal in my life to be happy about for which I am very grateful.  It's been easier to focus on that than on the other Bah Humbug stuff.  Merry Christmas all!

Happy Birthday Kathy!

Happy Birthday shoutout to Kathy!  It's her second New York birthday in this century :) 

I hope  you feel like a princess today.

They that go down to sea in ships

I forgot to add the words to the Fishermans' Prayer (107th Psalm).  The post was getting long and I guess I forgot, but if you ever find yourself in need of familiarity with this--don't say I didn't share it with you:

They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
These see the works of the LORD, and his wonders in the deep.
For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.
They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble.
They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end.
Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses.
He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.
Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.

107:23 from the King James Bible for those detail oriented readers.  I got this from  http://kingjbible.com/psalms/107.htm

Bev's Funeral

As you know, Jim and I went to Gloucester yesterday to attend Bev's funeral Mass.  It seemed a little crazy to go out and back in one day just for this but we both felt very strongly that it was something we needed to do.  Tim and Emmy had informed us they weren't going to be able to go as they were in New Hampshire with Cathy, Chris and the children, so Tim said it was up to us to "represent".  This is a term I see a lot in the Good Morning Gloucester blog so I really felt right at home doing so. 

The Mass was at St. Ann's church and since I'd never been there, I was looking forward to being in this church as it was certainly the site of many historic events in Gloucester history.  You may have seen it in The Perfect Storm movie.  It was bright and sunny yesterday and our trip was easy, even with a 4 AM departure.  The Good Morning Gloucester blog informed me there was to be a lunar eclipse just before sunrise around 7 AM so I brought my camera just in case.  (PS I nodded off and missed it)

We arrived about a half hour prior to the service and entered the church to find Uncle Peter.  He was in deep discussion with Bev's family about a missing brother who was supposed to deliver the eulogy but didn't get off the train he was supposed to be on.  So his mind wasn't really on greeting us and we took him a little by surprise.  Regardless, we did get to talk with him a bit before he had to go attend to other duties.  He looks pretty good--handsome haircut, nice suit.  He is obviously very very sad and was a bit confused at the time which is very understandable.  He just can't imagine not seeing Bev every day.  He mentioned several times how good Bev had been to him.  Bev's daughter has been his rock and gave him lots of support during the Mass. 

The service was sparsely attended and there wasn't another soul there I knew besides Peter and Petey.  Three older people sat in front of us and talked loudly enough for us to plainly hear so we got the low-down on their observations.  They clearly knew Peter well but I don't know if they were Ryan family or not.  When there was some conversation that no one "from Peter's family" was there, Jim nearly tapped the guy on the shoulder to introduce ourselves to assure him the family was in attendance. 

The church is huge and fairly ornate.  The altar is very ornate, the floors are wooden planks I'm sure are very old.  The pews are the old fashioned straight back kind with the really short (in width) bench seat where you feel like you are only perched there instead of seated.  There are metal braces supporting the pews and holding them to the flooring and those braces appeared to be rather aged as well.  I tried to absorb the history of the place but failed a bit in that it's decorated for Advent and the sun shone through the windows just beautifully making it seem modern to me.  There weren't any maritime symbols that I noticed (and expected) other than a ship's bow type of holder for the statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus on opposite sides of the altar. 

The service itself was most interesting.  The priest reminded me a great deal of John C. Reilly (from The Perfect Storm  and others) with the round face and closely cut beard.  He did not carry a Massachusetts accent and I found myself missing that.  I guess the missing brother did find his way to the church because when he was called up, he first seemed to chide Peter for not keeping him in the loop about Bev's condition (reprimand number one) then turned to the priest and requested the 107th Psalm which the poor priest was completely unprepared for.  And the guy just stood there and waited while the priest flipped through his books not saying anything about Bev.  It was an awkwardly long silence (reprimand number two) and if there had ever been any question in your mind that technology has not infiltrated every single pore of our lives, it was proven when someone on the altar whipped out his Smartphone to search the 107th Psalm for this guy.  I've never seen such a thing!  The old man in front of us whispered "The padre hasn't been here long enough to know the Fisherman's Prayer."   The brother left the altar after requesting the Psalm at some future time in memory of his sister.  And that was that until the priest invited everyone to Woodmore's in Essex ("Woodman's" several people corrected loudly--guy hasn't been here long enough to know).  I've never felt so sorry for a priest in my whole life.  We chuckled all the way home.

We needed to get back home and did not go to Essex.  We didn't know anyone anyhow and Peter had other business to attend to and shouldn't be needing to think about us.  Petey's daughter Savannah had a hard time staying still even to the point of joining her father up on the altar during the reading and peeking out from behind his leg --stinking cute but a little out of place.  Petey did a really nice job and he had his hands full stuck between taking care of two generations on his own.

So that's pretty much the report.  We represented and we were proud to.

This rainbow appeared off in the distance this afternoon during a brief snow shower.  It looked so bright down there at the end of the rainbow, that I was certain there must be a very large pot of gold out there waiting to be found.  This picture does not do it justice in any way but it will remind me of how wondrous it looked to me this last day of November.

I found my own little pot of gold this week with the Irish research.  Could you hear the Cathedral of Family History church bells ringing joyously?  I did.  I was finally able to unravel some family relationships with our Gloucestermen and officially add them to the family tree.  These are the McDonoughs--this branch of the family has been deviling me almost since I discovered them.  John Bentley (captain of the Schooner Paul Revere lost in 1882) married Mary Costello.  Mary's father Martin was Captain Bentley's cook on the Paul Revere.  Martin Costello was married to Julia so both Julia and Mary were left widowed after the sinking of the Paul Revere.  Mary died a few years after her husband but I hadn't found a trace of Julia's death and that was bothering me.

Finally I found Julia living in Boston in 1900 at the age of 72 and the census record indicated she had been the mother of 7 children and none remained alive by that time.  She was living with a niece.  Also in that household was the niece's sons, brother-in-law and nephew.  It was those people that I needed to tie to Julia (and therefore to us also).  Julia's death record indicated her maiden name was McDonough and I actually found her mother in Boston also!  It was a big tableful of puzzle pieces that didn't seem to fit together.  You keep going back to the table a move the pieces around, but can't quite make the one magical connection that allows all the others to fall into place.

Then I found the puzzle piece (a forgotten census record I uncovered in my paperwork set aside for later consideration) which allowed me to confirm and connect Julia and her niece as "our" Irish family members and open up a whole new group of families--all Irish fishermen, by the way. 

And I'm not doing the discovery justice in the telling either--please try to be happy for me and say hello to your new McDonough cousins:  the Costins and the Regans of Boston.  Let the bells ring with genealogical joy. 

Happy Birthday Chris!

I'm sure you remember that Mom would make us whatever kind of cake we wanted and our favorite dinner--such a simple offer that made the birthday kid feel pretty darn special.  I would always take white on white.  What about you?  Of course, those wild colored cakes were usually white on white too so it was win-win for me.  But I have a feeling Chris asked for chocolate.  Again, win-win. 

Happy Birthday Chris!