I’ve been bogged down, so no original post from me today. However, read this post by Kelli Worrall and then explore the rest of her blog. It’s filled with amazing, personal stories. This is the moving post that won me over.
The four older Kimball sisters just after their mother died.
“A time to seek, and a time to lose.” (Ecclesiastes 3:6)
My mother’s mother, Grandma Ruby, was born on January 12, 1909, in a little house with a crooked brick chimney in the-middle-of nowhere, North Dakota. She was the middle daughter of five. And in her unpublished memoir, My Burden Bearer, she records just a few images from her early childhood. Her mother rocking her, singing the “Beautiful Isle of Somewhere,” setting the table daily with a white cloth so her girls would grow up to be ladies.
Then in chapter two, way too early, she writes about her first trauma. Her first big Loss. She was six.
Sister number five had just been born when Grandma Ruby’s mother became ill. Grandma was shipped off to stay with some friends. Her sisters were sent elsewhere.
“Once they took me…
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