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A Rose for Sharon

  For many years now, I have posted the single pink rose image to my social media on August 19th and June 4th. Those who know me well know it is in honor of my little sister, Sharon, who died in 1994. Her birth date and her death date. That has been the extent of my communication about my sister or her life since. Thirty-two years is a long time to hold onto words. I have considered writing about her. It doesn't matter how deep my feelings are for her or how much I cherish her memory, the words don't come easily, if at all. Words feel cheap and wrong. It's hard to even describe why. Maybe it is because she was our family's: Our sister, our cousin, our niece, our daughter. We knew her best, so no one else should have the right to know about her like we did. Maybe that's why I hold onto my words. But I realize that if I don't tell her story, who will?  I have spent hour upon hour researching my long-gone ancestors, yet I haven't written about my own sister. I ...
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So Many Stories to Tell

Young Thomas J. "Tommy" Kozlina and my mom Anna Margaret Kozlina.
Friends,

This past year, I have dedicated much time to my favorite hobby: family history. I have read books, listened to podcasts, attended workshops, and begun again, to research our family lines.

I do so for a variety of reasons, but mainly I am intrigued and excited by the people the research reveals. At first, it was all about the names and dates, and "how far can I get back?" And, while that is still somewhat of a focus (Apparently, we cannot go back to Ireland until I find out where the Casey line is from!), I find more and more that I am just drawn into the stories that emerge, as I find more details of our ancestors' lives.

There's the funny stuff : "Polish Wedding Causes Trouble," is the headline of a newspaper article featuring my great grandmother Margaret McAndrew Gilbride. We'll save that one for another post.

There's everyday life: "So-and-So is visiting their mother this week." The not-so-everyday: "Sleeping Sickness Fatal to Girl."

There are stories which break your heart, and ones that make you nod your head and say, "Oh, so THAT's why..."

There are discoveries of familial likenesses, shared hobbies, tales of travel from abroad, and tales of deeply held American roots. There are railroad men, a hockey player, a prominent blacksmith, several coal miners, a nun and a priest...

Newspaper snippets - the Facebook of the time - recording who visited whom, or who wore what to whose wedding. There are both slices of everyday life and memorable moments in photo. There are bunches of interesting folk, who lived sometimes ordinary, sometimes extraordinary lives.

So many stories to tell. And here in this little space, I hope to share them with you.

Come on along.
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