Henry Hansen Story
November 12, 1995
Today is no special day at all--with one or two exceptions. I began the day, which is Sunday, by rising early and driving out to Wilsonville to attend church with David, Jackie and Ross and Judy. Also there was Aunt Judy and her friend Mary Jane. We were there to hear little Judy sing--and sing she did during sacrament meeting, between the speakers that little girl marched up to the podium and sang beautifully "I'm trying to be like Jesus." We were all proud and thrilled to say the least. I didn't even know she could sing. It as an emotional time for all of us--though she seemed calm and collected and even smiled at us while she sang. Sweet experience! I came home and after resting a while went to my own Ward and taught the Relief Society lesson-- only substituting--it has been a while since I taught on a regular basis and it was an assignment I accepted readily and enjoyed preparing. Giving the lesson turned out to be something else. The lesson was titled "Our Goodly Heritage" and I felt very humble in deed to be giving that kind of information to my sisters. I felt that undoubtedly they had all kept their own family history--journals--up to date, and that I was the only one still making excuses. I assumed that one day somebody would inspire me to get started but I did not expect it to be me! Well, as it turned out there were several sisters that I know well that came to me and said they had done no more than I had. In fact a couple of them said they didn't even have a book (journal). I have owned this one for many years and used it as an example of whatnot to do. As a result there were a lot of tears and promises and I am committed to begin writing!
I was having trouble with the lesson as long as I was reading. But, when I put the book down I was able to say what was in my heart. Basically that was that I have begun to feel like the last leaf about to fall off the (family) tree. (How did it happen that I have reached the age of the oldest member of our family?) I have realized that out of my 9 grandchildren only a few will remember their grandpa and then only that he was sick and old. Hank left no written history. I had started one for him in those last months of his life, and it became too painful I guess, or we thought we had more time. So I will begin by telling his story for him--though to do that in one book would be impossible. I am quite sure that all of my 'family history' friends would say "no-no-no--that isn't the way to do it!" None-the-less, I'm going to do it my way. I'll not begin by where I began, but rather start here and now, and write what pleases me, when it pleases me. Can't imagine anyone reading this anyway. Oh, I'll get all the dates and places in time--but right now it is mid-November and Thanksgiving plans are being made and Christmas is very much in our minds and I prefer to think forward, rather than the past.
This will be my 3rd Christmas alone, and while the holidays do get easier I suppose, it still isn't much fun to do all the preparations alone. Not that I am ever alone for very long--surrounded by dear friends, good neighbors and my ever supportive and thoughtful kids--my Ward is thoughtful and loving and I am content to be here and not off on an Island somewhere. I made that choice a year ago and my friend Thelma was unable to talk me out of it. She is in Hawaii now and will come home brown and eager to go again but I love my home--always have and always will. We are planning a spring trip, and had a week-end in Phoenix in September, so I do get to go places. I have been to Hawaii twice since Hank has been gone--a trip he never made. I loved the experience--the fragrance of the trees! There was a plumeria tree right outside my bedroom window (both trips, same bedroom) and I can close my eyes and smell those flowers even now. I especially enjoyed snorkeling but wished Dean could have been there to go with me. Snorkeling alone isn't so fun after a while--you want to share the wonders of the various sizes and colors of the fish and the giant turtles--I managed to get the end of my finger badly bitten while feeding the fish, plus a few other bloody bites, so I quit feeding them by hand. Most of the species would take a tid-bit very carefully, but you were quickly swamped by hundreds of all kinds as soon as they sensed food-exciting and great fun but after my poor finger was nearly shortened I became cautious.
Well, I've rambled onto a subject had no intention of writing about. This may be fun after all, but no more for today.
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