prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Friday, November 23, 2012

I never did speak to my Grandfathers.

I never did meet either of my Grandfathers. I never had a chance to speak to them. My paternal grandfather was James Mart Monson.


I do not believe that Dad talked to him very much. James Mart did not raise my Dad. At an early age Dad was adopted by his Uncle Charles Morton Monson. Altho born in Kentucky Dad was raise in Kansas where his Uncle had a farm. He spent his adult life in California. I did not have any inkling of these facts until I started some genealogical research after my wife Jackie passed away in 2007. My Dad or siblings had never discussed these matters. I was surprised to learn that my Dad had been raised in a foster home..

My Dad and I were not very demonstrative in our affection for each other. I wonder if my Dad had the same relation ship with his natural and adoptive fathers. I would suspect so. When I reached the age where I could have used some fatherly affection my Dad had just raised my eight siblings and was probably worn out. My Mother had passed away when I was five.


My Dad and Mom in their prime.


My Dad a little older.

My natural Grandfather was married three times. I suspect that he was not close with my Dad. That might explain why my Dad and I were not affectionate. And possibly why I have not been or am not now a World Champion Affectionate Father or Grand parent. I would like to be. It is time to get started

I do love my kids and their kids. Now if I can only act like I do.


No comments:

Post a Comment

!-- Site Meter -->