Its an odd thing to hear stories all of ones life, and then to find oneself in the midst of that story. That is what has happened, after moving to Wisconsin. I moved back to my husbands birthplace, or almost anyway. About 30 miles away, and across the Mississippi River, is the town of Potosi. Not quite Dubuque Iowa. Apparantly, if they had dredged the other side of the River, Potosi would be the "city" and Dubuque the almost ghost town.
While on our own cross country adventure, had I looked up, I would have noticed I was moving amazingly close to where the first women in our line, landed and called home, after taking the long boat ride from Norway. And that is how I landed in the middle of the story..
Mom comes out to visit..and we drive to Minnesota for a cousins wedding. Mom brings the necklace that Christine wore at her wedding.(150 years ago) Now, in the line of moms, it goes like this..Me, Gail, (my mom) Marion, (Gails mom), Mathilda, (Marions mom), Christine, (Mathildas mom), and Martha, Christines mom. Martha came from Norway..
So, every since I was a little girl, I have wondered what all these places looked like. Always the adventurer, I have always wanted to see...well, they happened to be on the way to Minnesota. We stopped at the oldest graves on the way up, and stopped at my moms grandmothers grave on the way back. You see her cleaning off her grandmothers stone. She has great memories, and lovely stories..and I could tell you all of them.
When i looked up, and say my mom standing with her hand over her mouth, and a tear in her eye, I realized what immortal was. My mom was missing her grandma...and I miss mine...I didnt know she had never been to her grave. Her grandmother lived with her in Scottsdale, when Scottsdale was about as big as Potosi. Sometime after she broke her hip, she went into a nursing home back in LaCrosse. (2 hours north of me) My mom couldn't make her funeral, as she had young children, and this was the first time she has been to the cemetary since Tillie had been buried there. The house on the bottom right..was where Tillie sat, exactly 100 years ago, pregnant with twins. Thats the house, where all the stories that my grandmother shared with me..took place. And does anyone know why I walked right up to that 1902 grave? Anyway, thanks for going back to the 1800's with me...
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