Memorial Day

We had an early "Memorial Day" trip on Friday and Saturday. We wanted Xiao Yu to see Logan and we wanted to visit our family graves. We had the extreme joy of staying at the Maughans (I hope I spelled that right!) in Wellsville. Their home is just ideal and the company is even better. We all had a wonderful time and were even treated to gourmet Belgian waffles. Anyone who has ever tasted the kinds of foods served at that home can vouch for the deliciousness of it. THANK YOU Israelsens and Maughans for being such wonderful hosts!

This is Great Grandparents Reed and Ruth Johnson's graves in the Logan Cemetery. I remember her by the books I have with dedications from her inside, and from all the times I went with my grandmother to care for her as she suffered from Lou Gehrig's disease until she died. Grandma would take Grandma Johnson's dentures out to clean them and we would laugh because she looked like a cabbage patch kid. I didn't know her well when she was well, but I feel a closeness to her because of the way my mom feels about her and because I spent so much time there with my Grandma and felt Grandma Johnson's spirit even when she was sick.


Here is the marker for Joseph Sr. and Ardella Clawson Baugh, great grandparents buried in the Logan Cemetery. He died when I was a baby, but I remember her very, very well. I remember her soft voice and ways, her handwriting, the kinds of candies she served, how soft her skin was, the smell of rose in her bathroom, the toys she had downstairs, how she valued being a lady and behaving appropriately and respectfully, sailing boats down the gutter across the street, her kindness and reverence, and most of all, sitting on her front porch as the sun set, talking and drinking her sweet grape juice while my dad mowed her lawn. I always think of her when I sing "O My Father," which I also sang at her funeral.



We had dinner at Cafe Sabor, the renovated train station down beautiful Main Street in Logan. Samuel's Latin roots came out when the Mariachi band played. He danced a rythmic salsa of sorts while strangers watched.



Miranda in front of Grandma and Grandpa Johnson's old house in Logan. I couldn't bear to take a picture of Grandma and Grandpa Baugh's old house, because it doesn't at all look the way it looked when she took care of it.


The drive out to Wellsville was beyond picturesque. We felt like we were in Scotland or something, at least England, it was so green. And we saw so many baby animals along the way. We stopped to take a closer look.

Xiao Yu. Oh how we'll miss you in a few short weeks!



Just basking in the post-waffle glow at the Maughan estate. Kenz and Craig with Miranda


We drove through country towns in Cache Valley to get to Clarkston (where the Martin Harris marker and pageant are), and I would have liked to go all the way to Clifton to see our Howell side, but we didn't have time. I didn't get a picture in Clarkston because we were busy searching for the right headstones and it was so windy. I didn't remember to snap a shot.
But I did get a picture of the Joseph Rulon and Mary Myler Standing site in the Fielding Cemetery. These are my great-grandparents on my dad's mom's side, and I knew them BOTH very well. There are so many "grandpa" things I see in my dad that I remember from my grandpa Standing. He was all smiles and always made us laugh. They would both just talk with us for hours. You could tell that family was their joy. They had such a fun way of teasing each other. I liked their relationship a lot. They had a beautiful home that we spent lots of time in, and a perfect backyard complete with a climbing tree that also produced wonderful cherries. They always had candy, pop, and Popsicles. I loved the way they talked. I interviewed my grandma Standing not very long before she died and I treasure that experience, and I left every single colloquialism in the transcript. I miss hearing them talk. With my grandma and grandpa Standing, sometimes I forget they are gone and wish I could stop by.


Then we went to Hooper to our Belnap side. These are my Great Grandparents Belnap, and I remember only her. They had the most amazing little pioneer home there. I loved going up into the attic and just imagining living there, looking at every antique thing in her home. I loved that music was such a big part of her life and that she had her organ there in the house. I always think about her baking 12 loaves of bread every day and know I can do better at my homemaking. We used to go out into her garden and my dad would make us hold the fat, spikey green worms in the tomatoes. Sometimes they would flood the front yard to water the lawn and the frogs would come out. We only got to see that once, I think. Sometimes I wish there were some way for my little family to move out to Hooper and live in that house. I have very fond memories of her and the feeling I had in her home.


This is my children sitting ON the gravestone of their great-grandpa and mine that I never met, Gary Devar Belnap. He passed away when my dad was 3. I think a lot about my Grandma whenever I visit that headstone and how she must have felt trying to comfort her 4, 3, and 2 year old children while she herself was experiencing such grief. I think about my Grandpa Howell too who stepped right into being the father to those three little kids and what a blessing he has been to her life, and my dad's life, and mine. I think about how it will be so wonderful to meet my grandpa Belnap someday and I loved seeing my little children sitting there on his grave. I thought he would have liked them and then my mom said she's sure they already knew him. That was a very nice thought.


I guess Memorial Day is a strange holiday, but I've been raised to love it. I read this morning about Lehi searching the plates after Nephi had recovered them, and how it gave him a genealogy of his fathers, and how he discovered he was descended from Joseph of Egypt who he had been sold into Egypt and had to go through all that to be able to save his family from the famine. I thought, it must have given Lehi a lot of comfort and strength as he sat there reading in the wilderness, far from a destination he did not know and from the home he had known, to think about what his ancestor had gone through and that there was a greater purpose in it. I'm also grateful for the direction these great-grandparents and grandparents of mine have provided for me just by the goodness of their lives. I hope by taking the kids around for Memorial Day like this whenever we can they will be able to benefit in the same way I have.