retracing footsteps

my grandma passing is still something that i have not grown used to quite yet. having dozens of boxes of her things lined up in the entrance hall seem to have almost blended into the wall. i don't even notice them. maybe i'm trying not to, i don't know. they are there. and eventually i am going to have to help unpack them and go through them, make lists of what's inside them, and probably take 99% of the things to the mormon donation center.

my grandma was an organized, clean, diligent lady. she was a librarian and had a love for books comparable to my love for writing. her mother - my great grandmother - was a writer, an avid reader, and a well known poet throughout california.

after retirement my grandma found great interest in our family's history, it's ancestors, and took to documenting and researching and retracing the footsteps of the larsens (her father's family surname). she loved discovering and learning about the family history that she began to research her husband's - my step grandpa's - family history as well. she wrote a book on grandpa duane's life and sent it out to all six of her sons.

i did not know the extent of her research until we began packing her things. she had a table in her office piled with materials, papers, boxes of old letters, photos, newspaper clippings, all in order for her next book. a book on her mother, katherine larsen.

my great grandma was one hell of a woman. she was fiery and her humor was as dry as tanqueray. she was small, and funny, not too affectionate, but kind in her own way. she was strong, too. never lost her drive in her mind or her body.

after the loss of my great grandpa in 2003, rex larsen, she moved to california from salt lake city to live in the guest house on my grandpa duane's land, down the hill from the house. there was where i got to know her, spend time with her, that i wouldn't have been able to spend if she had stayed in salt lake.

she had a fluffy, ugly, orange persian cat named leon who she absolutely adored. he didn't like anybody but my great grandma. they were bonded in a way i wish to be bonded with a pet.

when my family and my uncle taylor's family would go up to el dorado to grandpa duane's and grandma's house for lunch or dinner or holidays or birthday celebrations, my sister, brother and i would go walk down the hill to the guest house where our great grandma lived to fetch her before the meal. my sister left for the navy in 2010, and my little brother maybe was busy shooting bow and arrows or climbing the big boulders in the backyard, but i ended up going down to the guest house alone a lot of the time. i would climb the stairs up to the second floor and sit at the little kitchen table as she pattered around getting ready to go up the hill with me, and we would talk. we talked about my schooling, what she ate for breakfast, her sightings of a family of deer outside her window for four consecutive nights, about a new book i was reading, etc.

about seven or eight months before her passing she began to tell me of a re-occuring dream she'd been having. it was of her husband, rex, and he would wake her from a deep sleep and smile, then open a door for her which she could not see beyond for it was too bright.

she said she knew that he was waiting for her.

february 2nd of 2011 katherine larsen passed away peacefully in her armchair in el dorado, california.

the book my late grandma, karen miles, had begun building the foundation for, was never started. all her findings, her long hours of research, her meticulous organizing and filings would probably be left to collect dust in my garage had my dad not suggested i take on the job of starting - and maybe even finishing - the book my grandma had wished to write about her beloved mother.

so far there have been four boxes labeled KFL - katherine fernelius larsen. they sit in my room and i have slowly but surely begun to go through them. i'm not sure how i will start this book, or if it will even end up being a book at all, but mere posts here on my blog of the findings of my genius and diligent grandma karen.

one thing i was desperate to find among the boxes was the letters sent back and forth between my great grandpa rex and great grandma katherine while rex was away in the navy during world war 2. lo and behold, i found them. inside a box full of hundreds of letters, was a white shoe box. written on it was "rex f. larsen's navy letters. 1944-45". there are dozens of letters, yellowing and old, with postage stamps and naval addresses in the top left corner all signed "R. F. Larsen".

i am going to be typing them all out as best i can and posting them on here for family to read and see. i am wondering if i should post them in chronological order, or just share them as i get through each one. so far i have typed out five and am on number letter number six, all of them from december 1944 when great grandpa rex was in corpus christi, texas. my work space is the kitchen counter with the box of letters and a cup of coffee on my left.

still trying to figure out how i should go about sharing these amazing artifacts of the past, of my family, of the almost puke-inducing love rex had for katherine.

stay tuned.