A favorite child....

Today I was told that it is very apparent that I have a favorite and will give my favorite nearly everything and far less for my other child who apparently is favored by her father. I of course totally disagreed but then realized there was an ounce of truth to all this. A very small ounce I repeat.

How did this happen? Is it really possible to favor one over the other. I mean I am closer to one then the other but I don't think I favor one over the other..... I don't know I have to really think about this. Hmm

Let the planning begin.....

So Thanksgiving is 4 months away. I can't believe it. Before you know it, it will be here. Why am I talking about Thanksgiving in July? Well here is the deal, this year Jenn and I are in charge of the Thanksgiving dinner and hosting it here in OC. So in my usual planning style I am already looking at decorations, menu planning and of course location. I've asked Jennifer if she would ask about her church building so that we can play volley ball, basket ball and of course bingo.

Oh ok so here is the center pieces i'm thinking of having... what do you think? I think they should be pretty simple but....

Too much? Well with the browns and pumkins and things i think it should look really nice :)

I am thinking round tables as they are easier but nice long tables would be really nice as well that way??? so many things to think about.

Family History

Below is from a document I found in my grandmothers (Jane Kenison Barber) paper work:

David Kenison, my great grand father was born in Denmark, there were three brother each decided to go to different parts of the world. So as the identify their decendants my great great grand father decided to stay with the orginal way of spelling Kenison with one N. The other said he would spell his with two N's in the middle and the third spelt his name Keniston.

My great great grand father David Kenison settled in Canada then to Nova Scotia where he was engaged in ship building like his father before him. There he married, one of his children David worked with his father for while, when his mother dies he left home and his father married again.

So David my grand father too to the sea and finally worked his way up to be a captain of a sailing vessal. He sailed to South America then he sailed to the Pacific Ocean. That is where he first saw Samoa of course he couldn't stay there as the ship did not belong to him. Then he sailed to New Zealand and it was there his ship was wrecked off the coast near the Bay of Islands. He stayed there for some time. There he married an Army Captains daughter her name was Ann Elizabeth Cribb. Their first child was born there this was David Jr the 3rd.

When hewas two years old Captain Kenison decided to go to Samoa to live. They arrive in Samoa in 1866. He started a cotten mill and did very well until big flood came and washed the mill away together with all of his savings. Which he kept in a trunk at the mill. So he was left penniless.

Next he built himself a boat, so he could go freighting around the islands for copra. He was successful in this venture. My great grand mother died in November 1987 and was buried in Saniatu, Upolu Samoa. It was about 1899 that great grandfather brough his family to Salt Lake City Utah. he was there a couple of years and he met and married Fiau'u Fanene the from this marriage he had one daughter Leah Kenison she was born on the 4th of July 1905

Grandfather Kenison went back to Samoa about 1914 he lived at Fusi Upolu until his death in April 1919. he was buried at Sauniatu near his first wife.

(This part was hand written on the document)

My father stayed back in Am Samoa until my mother died but he sent my older sisters to school in Utah Carrie, Maggie, Florence and Maria. In 1897 he had 11 boys and one girl

July 3rd, Moms birthday

Yes today is my mothers birthday. I'm waiting for Robert to wake up then we will visit my mothers grave. I've thought about this all week. I know her grave is just a place of memorial as her body and spirit have long gone. I have debated back and forth if I should actually go to her graveside or if I should honor her in another way but I've decided for me this is what I want to do. I know my brother hasn't been to her graveside since we buried mom but I know in his own way he honors our mother. So that's what made me think about this. Not that I'm judging anyone but more of should I be doing something different.

Every time I go the Forest Lawn in Cypress where mom is buried I see so many families gathered to what appears as a BBQ picnic type event. They have blankets spread out, food and seem to be sitting there in groups of 10 or more. Then I remember when my mom was driving she would pack all the grand kids in her car and take them to visit my grandmothers grave and she would sit there for quite some time with the kids cleaning up the graveside and weeding around it.

I think that's part of the reason I go back for just about every holiday. So my mothers grave doesn't sit there unforgotten. Its sad when you go by and you see the graves with no flowers, no tending to. Its as if they were buried there and forgotten. So I go back nearly every holiday and that is my way of honoring my mothers memory. That and the fact that a week doesn't go buy that I don't miss my mother. I often wish I had her to talk to. I use to call her quite often just to talk or to tell her something that happened or ask a cooking question.

I know she would be so proud of my girls and their lives and how they've become such beautiful young women. Dayna is traveling through Europe right now and I could just about hear my mother praying daily for Dayna to return home safely. I can hear her asking me "are you sure its safe" only for me to remind her that she let my brother go to Europe and do the same thing at the same age. Of course she would tell me that's different he's a boy but none the less we would have this conversation.... funny how I can hear it all in my mind.

Robert and I often have momma battles. As we drive along in the car and say "well my momma..." its a fun game we like to play with each other. One day he said "well my momma is a saint" and I replied "well if your momma is a saint that would make my momma a God". And so the game as gone on from there each insisting that their momma was better then the other. Our resent battle of the mommas he insisted that his momma baked cookies for all the little kids in the village. Oh just not any cookies but the "BEST" cookies... OK really i don't think his mother ever made a cookie in her whole life but like I said its a game we play and laugh at each other about the things we say.

In the end we both know how much we both miss our mothers and know that their memories live on in us.