Learning about family history is always interesting. It's always quite refreshing to hear about the good times and learn when your grandparents got married, how they originally met and about your grandmother's sisters (especially when you find she has 5!). But there is the stories of why two sisters who not only haven't spoken since 1982, but that the fight was over a quilt. Senseless it seems that for 25 years two sisters would fight over something so material. One sister is now in her 90s while my grandma is 72.
On my grandfather's side I learned of the name changes and of my famous relatives. Our last name was changed several generations before mine, because of a bootlegger in town, my great great grandfather was "a religious man" and changed the name to "Carlson" because of this bootlegger. My great grandfather restored our last name and thus is how I am not a Carlson. "Country Inn's & Suites by Carlson", amongst other things, were started by my grandfather's cousin.
I looked through the book of family history, which dates back to the 1500s, a Finish family who moved to Sweden. As I looked through, my grandmother told me stories. I than looked over old photographs, of her wedding, of her sisters and brothers (4 in total), and of my grandfather. She pointed and named everyone in her wedding party. This is when she pointed to Bruce, my grandfather's best friend.
Ted, my grandpa, and Bruce had been best friends since high school. They had many traditions, including a weekly breakfast or lunch. My grandmother, grandpa and Bruce would even take trips together. As my grandfather got older, and Alzheimer's symptoms started to show, Bruce was always there for him. He would pick him up and drive him around.
My grandfather died February 14, 2006. He was 75. A couple weeks later Bruce's brother died due to complications in a "routine surgery". Bruce had lost his best friend and his brother within months of each other. His depression overwhelmed him. Than the unthinkable happened. Bruce, taken by his grief, jumped off of a 7 story building.. to his death. He left a son, who although older, still needed a father. Bruce's son still calls my grandmother on holiday's, in fact he called yesterday. I hope his heart is healing.
Life is sacred, and I know that my grandfather would have never wanted for Bruce to succumb in such a way. The bitter truth is that life hurts, joy diminishes and even the most happy people hide themselves away.
The hardest part is fighting back, but even the hostile can overcome their deepest heartaches.
On my grandfather's side I learned of the name changes and of my famous relatives. Our last name was changed several generations before mine, because of a bootlegger in town, my great great grandfather was "a religious man" and changed the name to "Carlson" because of this bootlegger. My great grandfather restored our last name and thus is how I am not a Carlson. "Country Inn's & Suites by Carlson", amongst other things, were started by my grandfather's cousin.
I looked through the book of family history, which dates back to the 1500s, a Finish family who moved to Sweden. As I looked through, my grandmother told me stories. I than looked over old photographs, of her wedding, of her sisters and brothers (4 in total), and of my grandfather. She pointed and named everyone in her wedding party. This is when she pointed to Bruce, my grandfather's best friend.
Ted, my grandpa, and Bruce had been best friends since high school. They had many traditions, including a weekly breakfast or lunch. My grandmother, grandpa and Bruce would even take trips together. As my grandfather got older, and Alzheimer's symptoms started to show, Bruce was always there for him. He would pick him up and drive him around.
My grandfather died February 14, 2006. He was 75. A couple weeks later Bruce's brother died due to complications in a "routine surgery". Bruce had lost his best friend and his brother within months of each other. His depression overwhelmed him. Than the unthinkable happened. Bruce, taken by his grief, jumped off of a 7 story building.. to his death. He left a son, who although older, still needed a father. Bruce's son still calls my grandmother on holiday's, in fact he called yesterday. I hope his heart is healing.
Life is sacred, and I know that my grandfather would have never wanted for Bruce to succumb in such a way. The bitter truth is that life hurts, joy diminishes and even the most happy people hide themselves away.
The hardest part is fighting back, but even the hostile can overcome their deepest heartaches.
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