Memorial Day

Memorial Day growing up always consisted of the same thing, traveling to Morgan to spend the day.  Morgan is a small, Utah town tucked away in the mountain's.  It is beautiful, and very small.  My grandmother grew up there and although no one from my immediate or extended family has lived there since she left home at 18, over 70  years ago,  we still make the pilgrimage there every year to pay our respects.  The cemetery is the final resting place of my great-grandfather White who passed away in the Flu Epidemic of 1918 before my grandmother was even born.  My grandmother's mother who was under the age of 30 raised 5 children on her own, never remarrying.  My grandmother's brother is also buried there, he died in WWII.  My Aunt Marjorie is buried there, she died at child birth while my grandfather was in Italy serving during WWII.  He received the letter telling of her death before he received the letter telling him that they were expecting twins.  My grandmother died at the age of 62, so young, from cancer, she is buried there, now next to my grandfather who lived another 25 years after she passed away.  So much sadness at most of these untimed passings, however, so much happiness in the Gospel of Jesus.  Most of these people I have never met, however, there is something nice about everyone coming together to remember their ancestors that have gone before them.

Love this picture of the kids hanging out around Uncle Bret.  He was always the 'fun' uncle growing up.  The one that stayed up with the kids and had sleepovers watching movies.  Now he is the favorite with the next generation.