Writing my personal history

I have begun writing my personal history.  It is harder than I thought it would be.  I should have done it sooner, because I am sure there are things that I will forget, important things.  But is has been such great fun. My younger years seem to just come flooding into my mind as I sit and contemplate who I am and was.  At first I thought I can't remember any of that stuff, but the mind is a magic thing and it can help you remember things that you thought were long forgotten.  Recalling things such as:  things we as children used to do for fun, very different than what children do these days.  We spent almost all of our time outside playing.  If we were inside, we heard "Go outside and play".  So we really had no choice.

But what great times we had on the family farm in Hamilton, Illinois--walks in the woods, wading in the creek that went through the property, riding on the handlebars of my brothers bike, since he was the only one that had a bike, in fact sometimes he would ride two of us, one of us on the bar and of course, me on the handlebars;  picnics in the woods;  softball games with the neighbors across the road, hide and go seek; statue;  sleeping under the stars; making clouds into things....dogs, horses, airplanes....;  and watching for the real airplane that might just fly over.  That was a very big deal. Everyone stopped to watch the plane as it went by.  It was almost a celebration.  Of course, it was right after World War II, and we were so proud of our men in uniform.

And, were we  picky about what we ate for meals......of course not.  We were glad to have enough food to eat and we loved all of it.  I can't remember ever complaining about anything that  I was served.  I do remember fresh chicken....sure did hate the part that came before the good eating tho. But it was a necessity then.  No frozen chicken parts for us.  Well I did just think of a part of the chicken I didn't like-----the gizzard.  Too tough to chew.  Otherwise, it was all good.  Then the feathers were used for bedding quilts and mattresses.  Wow, am I old.

Why is it important to remember and write down these things---so that our children and other relatives will know who they are and where they came from.  If we don't record it, it will be lost. How many times have I wished that one of my ancestors had written about the time that they lived. How did you survive the Civil War?  Why did you only serve in the Civil War for a few months at a time?  How did it work for someone to go in your place?  What was it like to be part of the group of people that came over to settle Texas?  Why is our last name Glasgow, but my DNA tells me I am all Irish....no Scottish at all.  What is that story?  Who is that lady standing next to you in the really old picture that you left me?  How did you survive the depression?  And the questions go on and on.  I will probably never answer all of the questions that that nosey great great great grandson asks himself, but I will leave a little of me behind, so that I won't be a complete mystery.

Just know, that whoever you are,  even if I never met you,  that I have loved you and thought about you more than you will ever know.

God Bless you for asking.

Family Farm Hamilton Illinois

Farm with my great great grandmother in front ..my Grossmutter

Covered Bridge between Hamilton, Illinois and Keokuk Iowa across the Mississippi River.

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