Lost and Found

My father died in 1954 when I was seven and my brother was four. We also lost contact with most of my father’s family. My paternal grandfather bailed. He was an alcoholic, and he and my mother actively disliked each other.

In 1923, when his wife died leaving three children, the oldest of whom was my father at six, my grandfather sent them to live with his older sister. They only saw their father on holidays until my dad started high school. Then he came home and brought the girls with him. He took responsibility for his two younger sisters until they graduated from high school themselves. I have always wondered if my grandfather felt guilty for not raising his own children.

One of my aunts, Rose, lived in Redding with her family. My dad had cut ties with her several years earlier because of her abusive husband, so we hadn’t seen any of them for some time. When I was eight or nine, her children were in our town to visit their paternal grandmother. (Unbeknownst to us, two of our great aunts also lived in our town. My father had nothing to do with them, either, because of their lifestyle. But my cousins visited.)

Their mother called and asked if the kids could come to our house for a couple of days. My cousin, Margaret, and I were close in age. We had such a wonderful time together. Even though she was only there for a couple of days, we both remember it as a great experience. However, we didn’t see each other again for many years.

My dad’s other sister, Mary Evelyn, lived with her family in Sacramento. She and my mother loved each other very much. She was in the military in WWII at the same time as my dad. My mother wrote each of them daily.

She had four children. However, her husband spent several years in and out of mental hospitals. She always worked full-time. As a single parent, so did my mother. The distance between our two families made visiting prohibitive, and long-distance phone calls were far too expensive. Over time, we lost track of her family as well.

After Mary Evelyn’s husband died, she moved to San Diego, where she began to do genealogy research. She located my brother, who gave her our contact information. When she called for the first time, we invited her to lunch the following Saturday.

When she and my mother saw each other, it was clear they still loved each other. From then until her death several years later, we saw her every few months. She attended our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration. I adored her and treasure every minute I got to share with her.

My cousins on my dad’s side of the family remained lost until I located a couple of her children on Facebook. They led me to their siblings as well as Margaret. My family now felt restored.

On Memorial Day of 2011, Mary Evelyn’s son, Roger, invited us to his home for a barbeque. His sister, Suzanne, also came. What a joy to be reunited with them.

Roger, Suzanne, and me

My cousin Margaret was also supposed to have been with us, but she was unable to make it. A couple of weeks later, she was in Orange County. We made arrangements for her to go to church with us and to see my mother in the nursing home. What a great blessing. This was the last day Mom was lucid.

Me, Mom, and Margaret

In March of 2013, Margaret and Suzanne came to Dana Point for a few days. During the time they were with us, we visited San Gabriel Mission and found our grandmother’s grave together. I had tried to locate it years before, but had been unsuccessful. This time, we found it as well as the graves of her brother and her parents.

Lunch in Dana Point: Larry, me, Margaret, Suzanne

Four cousins at our grandmother’s grave: Ron, Margaret, Me, Suzanne

Roger and Suzanne flew down for our fiftieth anniversary celebration. They were the only members of my dad’s side of the family to attend, and I felt very blessed to have them!

Suzanne, Larry, me, Roger

Last September, we drove to Sacramento to meet Roger and Suzanne’s younger brother, Ted. Roger’s twin, Steve, was supposed to come, too, but he wasn’t able to make it. Ted was in town for a high school reunion. This was the first time I ever met him. Unfortunately, none of us thought to take any pictures. Roger barbequed, and we had a great time. We also met Suzanne’s daughter, Sarah, and her family.

In October, Sarah called to say she and Suzanne were coming to Orange County to go to Disneyland and celebrate Suzanne’s birthday. We took all of them out for dinner. This was the first time I had ever been able to celebrate Suzanne’s birthday with her.

Last Wednesday morning, we received an early phone call from Roger. He could barely breathe, but he said he had nearly died the night before. (I still haven’t heard all the details.) He wanted to tell me how much he loved me and how thankful he was that we had been able to reconnect after so many years.

I told him how much I loved him, too. He said how blessed he felt with a wife he adored and a loving extended family. I told hm to save his breath and that I was going to put him on two prayer chains. Later in the day, he called again to be sure to tell my brother he was loved as well. (They had seen each other at our fiftieth anniversary party.)

The next day, he called again and told me to call off my prayer warriors. (Didn’t happen.) He said he was feeling much better with only a couple of other tests to be completed. He sounded optimistic and ready to get back to his activities.

On Saturday, Sarah called to tell me Roger had suffered a heart attack during the night. He didn’t survive. I am heartbroken, and at the same time, I feel so very blessed to have found him again. We shared wonderful memories, and we had closure.

I will always love Roger and remember him with love. I told him the first time I met Ingrid, “She’s family, and I’m keeping her.” I meant it then, and I mean it now.

RIP, Roger, until we meet again. Thank you for loving me and allowing me to love you.

Roger and Ingrid. This is my favorite photo of them.