Saturday, February 9, 2019

Saturday Morning

Family history has been on my mind this week.  (And every week since last August, come to think of it.)

Sunday I learned of the passing of a younger family friend who presided as bishop at Kay’s funeral last October — “a happy, generous soul,” my sister (his neighbor) told me.
Tuesday I had spare time and iPhone to scan some history (including Kelli) from Kay’s file cabinet still in storage.
Wednesday I helped plan an April event for our Ogden stake community to help people do genealogy.  
After a session for family on Thursday, I worked in the high-tech Layton FamilySearch Center, duplicating Kay’s life DVD (slideshow) and digitizing our daughter’s 1997 piano playing (cassette with no date, so I guessed).  The equipment amazed me; I expect to see the same or better in the new Ogden center when it’s open in May.
Friday night I stopped by Deseret Book at City Creek and discovered a plaque with its history: “... began business in 1866 as George Q. Cannon & Sons.”  (Yes, I took a picture.)

A frontier funeral in our old neighborhood this Saturday morning: beloved President Barney served in presidential positions worldwide and at home, and helped Kay & me serve the two-year-old children in the Church nursery.  He is so humble, loving, and now greatly missed.  I worked weekly alongside his wife in the old Layton family history center a few years ago, and we enjoyed visiting them in their historic home.  A lot of family history relates to that eternal marriage.

Another historical thought for Kay’s next birthday:
“Come Saturday morning,” (song by The Sandpipers we heard on our morning-after drive across the west desert while my parents flew to Switzerland for three years) let’s start with a “sunrise celebration” (normally a summer tradition) with memories of weekend trips.
“We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles.
And then we'll move on ...” to brunch with Kay’s favorite crepes, smoothies, and dark chocolate cake with 17 candles.  Stories are waiting to be shared.


What’s your story?  Can you recall a Saturday morning in your family history?