She goes by Joan, which is pronounced like JoAnne. The story my mom told me, was that her mother wanted one name, and her father the other, and her father filled out the birth certificate but spelled it that way. He called her Joan but her mother called her Emily. My younger sister is named for her.
She lives in Bountiful, but I only saw her every few years growing up because we lived away. I should make more of an effort to visit her now. I think she has a great wry sense of humor, and she has really survived through some hardships in her life. My grandfather died of ALS in 1997, the day I arrived in Utah to attend BYU.
The meeting was for a sad occasion. It was the funeral of my Great-Aunt Caroline, the second sister to die in two months. She has two Patten siblings left. They do monthly Patten family nights still with extended family.
The funeral made me realize that so many stories of this great generation are dying with them. I heard again the stories of the orchard and 40 acres where they grew up in Provo, on land that used to be countryside way north of BYU back then, and is now the Missionary Training Center. And my grandma and her sister Caroline both had polio has little girls in the 30s and 40s. They stayed in the hospital in Salt Lake City for a long time, and suffered effects for the rest of their lives. Thank goodness we don't have polio now (IF EVERYONE GETS IMMUNIZED). Caroline had long blonde hair that the nurses thought was too beautiful to shear off like the rest of the children.
I remember Caroline was often smiling when I saw her. Both women are great examples for my daughter.
No comments:
Post a Comment