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Gilbride or Gallagher: Which Michael is Buried in Sacramento?

I'm taking on a little challenge this week to hopefully correct a mistake 138-years in the making. It involves a cemetery record in which the wrong surname was recorded. Was it Michael Gilbride or Michael Gallagher who was interred at St. Joseph Cemetery in Sacramento? (You may remember my posts about Michael Gilbride published in fall 2022, and how I originally discovered him, his family's move to Lowell, Massachusetts, and more. To catch up, start here:  Dear Sir: How I Found My Civil War Veteran, Michael Gilbride .) I can make a compelling case that the man was Michael Gilbride, who is a third great-granduncle, and the son of my immigrant ancestor James Gilbride (1874-1872) and his wife Mary Catherine Hart Gilbride (1807-1855). Why is this important? Michael was a Civil War veteran, who served in the 52nd Pennsylvania, Co. H. By the time he lived in Sacramento, he was indigent. In 1884, he applied for a Civil War pension, and was still fighting for it in 1886, when he died.

Plenty


It's family story time again. 

Many years ago, our daughter Anne drew this picture of herself, me, and her brother James. Apparently we were on a grocery shopping trip, and this I know by the thought bubble above my head which reads, "Wow! 5% off those fish fillets!" I am not quite sure if our daughter was dragging me to frozen food section or somewhere else. And poor James, toddling behind, hoping to catch whatever it was I was carrying. After all these years, I still find this image hysterical. 

Five percent off fish fillets. 


What struck me is that this is how our daughter saw me—now permanently enshrined in artwork!

To be fair, I am by nature frugal. That comes from being raised by a mom who had to pinch pennies in a one-income, five-mouths-to-feed family. There were food stamps and government surplus cheese from time to time when she was laid off from her factory job. 

My frugality also comes from watching my grandmother bring goodies to our house from various sales and clearances. A child of immigrants, Grandma knew how to scrimp and save and find a bargain. How to mend things, stretch supplies, and make do. How to find uses for things others might toss aside. These two women, in turn, taught me these essentials. 

I don't regret being that penny-pinching mom our daughter saw. Oh, there were some lean times, and times when my early lack of good money management meant I was raiding the penny pot to make it to payday without completely blowing our household budget, or my husband's patience.

I do cherish this vision of our early family life. It reminds me that while there might have been tight times, we always, always had plenty. Plenty of love. Plenty of laughs. A roof over our heads, warm beds to sleep in, food on the table, clothes on our backs. And so much more.

Then and now, I have two kids I cherish.

And a husband I love.

Plenty.

 

Until next time...Happy Thanksgiving. 

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Comments

  1. Replies
    1. And Happy Thanksgiving (a little late) to you as well. Clearly we are related on my Mom's side - I'd love to know how we are connected. Thanks for reading!

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