MS and ME

For those who might still be following this blog, you probably have noticed that the number and frequency of post have diminished this past year. [Hum...three the past six months?]  What's the deal.

The 3 B's I would like to call it = balance...bladder...and brain.  Since 2006, MS [multiple sclerosis] and I have been singing this duet.  Some days in tune, some days out of tune it is.  Most recently my balance has taken its turn in the out of tune chorus, and well just getting up and down from my favorite chairs [including my computer] has been an interesting experience.  My bladder continues its usual "no control" song, and my brain...who knows what is to come...where did I put that...?  Anyway, I just wanted you folks to know where I've been and the uncertainty of where I might be going.  May the blogs continue...MS and ME have a few duets yet to sing.

Almost 40

Looking back in time is usually the major part of a genealogist's activity.   Family ancestors uncovered, and their story recorded is often the goal.  Today however... in the present... finding this picture of my oldest as a child, brought to mind the realization that she is about to turn 40. 

Here she stands.  Hair blown, investigating everything around her, it was difficult at times even to get her to stand still long enough for a picture.  This must have been one of those days.  A birdhouse with Cardinal was in front leading the way. [Kentucky State bird it is.]  That look of ..."what's next"...graces the face.  Wow...almost 40 years ago.   The future is still being explored, and the present is still being lived.  Hum...more family stories to be written.

God's Finger

The sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up our existence can vary widely from individual to individual.  Some have a large number of years to conduct or pass one's time, and some have very few.  For Charley B. Jones, it was not all that many.

Buried in a long forgotten, isolated family cemetery some 139 years ago, Charley Butler Jones had roughly ten of these years.  He was the older brother to my great grandfather Edward Turner Jones who would have been around six when Charley died.  What were his ten years like?  A childhood at "Old Cane-Springs" just where the ferry crossed the Kentucky River at the mouth of Red River.  The Red River road brought folks to the ferry, and it must have been an active place day in and day out.  Much to provide physical and mental stimulus to this life.  Ten years and your gone.  Maybe he filled his days with excitement...knowing what it is to be one of those Jones boys growing in my own world.  He had a bunch of older brother and sisters [nine to be exact] that would have helped keep him out of trouble...or helped lead him into trouble.  Brothers and sisters are like that you know.  On his headstone it reads: "God's finger touched him - and he slept".  What would your brothers and sisters write on yours?

Clouds

A visible mass of particles of water or ice in the form of fog, mist, or haze suspended usually at a considerable height in the air is a cloud.  They often appear as a light filmy, puffy, or billowy mass seeming to float in the air such as the following:

There happens to be all sorts of clouds.  The names vary from such words as cirrus, stratus, cirrostratus, and altostratus.   I believe the ones shown above are called cumulus.

Now cloud may also mean to become troubled, apprehensive, or distressed in appearance.  Let's cloud the issue so as to make it unclear or confused.  These kinds of clouds can make one confused or anxious.  To cast gloom over is often the result.  All sorts of names also tag these cloud as they past through our sky.  For each of us, these names will vary.

Well, the clouds above have blocked the sun.  They certainly appear dark and gloomy on one side.  Such may be many of the days that pass before us.  Yet, one can imagine where the saying "the clouds silver lining" originates.  Given enough time, the cloud will pass away.

Suspenders

Here my brother and I sit on the porch of our old Kentucky home.  It would have been around 1955 or so, give or take, and we show our smiles.  We are dressed in our jeans, shirts, shoes, socks, and...suspenders.  You know, those supporting bands worn across the shoulders to support trousers, shirt, or belt.  I guess our jeans were big enough to need such additional help since the cuffs were folded a number of times, especially around my ankles.  Much room to grow there was...a new home...a new neighborhood to explore...new friends to make...new trees to climb...and for me new jeans to grow into.  Let's get going we seem to be saying.  What will this new life offer?  Up, up, and away...our suspenders will certainly come in handy.

It's About Time

What time is it?

 Some say "a time for every purpose under heaven".

Wait a minute, you mean all the time, part time, or just any time?

Well I guess over time it would be every time, thus timeless.

Wow, time after time...a never ending story.  But, what about "once upon a time"?

That's certainly time-honored, however you would need a time-keeper, and we need to let the good times roll...certainly time-consuming...not sure enough hours in the day.

Wait a second, who's the timer anyway?  Wouldn't they need a time sheet, with a time-piece, and a time-line to keep things straight?  And at the same time, they would need a time-table, time zone, and maybe even a time-capsule? It would certainly take the summer time, and this is when the living is easy.

One more time, "a time for every purpose under heaven".

Time out!  Time out!  This is getting time-worn...and not sure it can be time-tested.  Anyway, times up and I will need more time.  Maybe even some time travel.

Well, it's about time!

Explorare!

Exploration has been part of man since the beginning of time.  As a matter of fact, the word "explore" comes from explorare which is French ex + plorare meaning to cry out.  It seems that was the action taken by hunters on sighting game, which was the yell (outcry) to let others in the hunt know that food was finally in sight.  Can you image, all those empty stomachs, hunting for days, following all those tracts, and finally seeing some food!  "Explorare"  would certainly seem appropriate.

The following picture is my older brother [ in his youngest days] being in exploration mode. 

Let's see...nothing down that side of the shed...although it did look a bit shaky.   Good thing the grass was not any taller because I might of had some problems with navigation.    But hey, I have made it this far, and there is still a smile on the face.  I am sure there are some falls yet to come, but so far so good.   I must go on... it is part of that human gene you know.  Wonder if there is any game around this corner.  Only one way to find out...explorare!

Front Porches

Facing the world around us comes from all sorts of opportunities.  Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches give us all types of input.  A little here, a little there...and off we go into this thing called life.  How we learn and grow is often a result.

My Dad is shown in one of his opportunities.

It would be around the year 1926 - 1927, and he would have been less then one year of age.   There is this look of deep thought which must have been from seeing a passing bug, or perhaps caused by one of those diaper filling events that parents get to enjoy on many occasions.

A front porch it would seem to be.  He has been placed in one of those wheelie things that give you a chance to move around once you have figured out how to navigate the contraption.  There is a small chair placed to the side, but I bet Dad would not sit still to occupy this space for very long.  Let's get rolling!  Got to take advantage of this opportunity to explore this front porch.  Where did that bug go anyway?   Life, and the front porches...let's get going...opportunities await.

Shelves

A thin flat piece of material (usually wood) fastened horizontally at a distance from the floor to hold objects is defined a shelf.  Of course, the objects placed upon the shelves are completely left to the one owning the shelf.  The following picture is such a group of shelves.

These shelves belonged to my Granny Ewen.  The picture was taken in the early 1960's. [Not sure of the exact date.]  It contains the items that Granny thought were important to her.

Let's see.  There are cups and plates along the lower most shelf.  It would certainly be helpful in getting to them when all the family was around to eat.

The next shelf contains a radio, clock and some unclear items.   Music and time...or time for music...or just what time is it...could all be handled from this shelf.

The third shelf contains plants.  It looks like ivy.  Plants growing over the plates, clock, radio, and those things below.  Granny must have been a good plant "grower" and "waterer"  to keep things out those objects below.  [She did love plants.]

The forth and fifth selves contain some objects that were probably not needed very often.  Jugs, fancy cups, a plate nailed to the side, etc., etc...those kinds of things you want to show, but not have any touch. [Or break when I was around.]

The shelves of our lives contain all kinds of stuff.   They tell others what is important to us in a way that nothing else can tell.  These were Granny Ewen's shelves.  What do your shelves tell about you?

Coconut Trees

Trees were a part of my growing up years.  Many days were spent climbing them, eating cherries, apples, pears, and walnuts from them.  Sitting under the shade of them on hot summer days with a little breeze making its way through the branches and leaves.  Now there were plenty of them around my neighborhood, but a palm tree was not one of them.

The picture above shows my Mom [to the right], her sister Faye [to the left], and a first cousin they called "Sissy". [In the middle of course.]  Sissy appears somewhat larger in statue than both Faye and my Mom, but Faye and Sissy seem to share the same facial features, including the red lip stick.   Mom may be about 14, and Faye about 16, and Sissy...well not sure, but would guess she is several years older.  Mom tells me that she usually did not wear lipstick or makeup.  Together, they are pausing for this picture in time.

The picture is taken in front of a back drop that contains a palm tree.  Now I didn't see my first "real" palm tree until our family took a trip to this new place called "Disneyland".  No branches, no real leaves, a lot of funny looking bark, and only a large black fruit called a coconut that you had to use a sledge hammer to get into.  Humm...a coconut tree in Winchester, Kentucky used as a back drop to take pictures.  I imagine that not many folks growing up in Kentucky during WWII would ever see a real palm tree.  That is unless you were in the military and got to that part of the world that had many of them. 

The back drops to our life.  We stand in front of many to get that picture just right.  On this day Mom, Faye, and Sissy shared this back drop.

The Music of Life

Life is our existence as we know it. Existence is our reality as we experience it. Experience is our conscious perception of the environment that surrounds us. Our perception of this environment is brought to us through an organic platform made up of trillions of cells that somehow have figured out a way to function in concert. A concert that provides our conscious existence with this experience. Beginning at the union of 23 chromosomes to make that first unique cell [seems to take 46 chromosomes to get things working well], our existence and experience play their first note ... ah yes, the music of life.

A Gate to Nowhere

Gates open and close. They keep things in, or they keep things out. They often set boundaries which give definition to neighborhoods, or declare limits to traffic, public or private. Gates are all around us. They are built by man to imply that if you are on one side, you might want to get to the other. [All that green grass and stuff.]

The picture to the right shows a gate. It was taken after the destruction of a tornado that removed all boundaries. It was just about all that was left standing, blown open by the wind of an F-5 monster. An "act of God", some folks would call it.

Pretty useless this gate stands now. No boundaries, no landmarks, no anything that remains. A gate to nowhere I thought...have you experienced one?

With Love, Henry

The world had changed in 1945-1946. Most of this world had been involved in a war that was to impact many, many lives for generations to come. Indeed it did.

It was the picture to the right that caught my attention. It was taken in 1946 below one of the most famous mountains in the world. To the French it was "Mont Cervin". To the Italian it was "Monte Cervino". To the Swiss, it was just called "Matterhorn". Straddling the frontier between Switzerland and Italy, all 14,691 feet stands proudly. No war was going to change me it seems to be saying. My Dad stands here. The picture has in his hand writing, "With Love, Henry".

What? Love in the mist of all this mess? How was one to deal with all the hatred, death, killings, destruction, war...war...war! Some thought it would never end. But, here is my Dad, sending a picture to his family, with love. The folks below would have received it.

This picture shows Dad's younger sister, Ray. She is recording a picture with her Mom, my Mam maw... that shared moment in time caught by the camera of life. Ray was still in high school, and Mam maw was working outside the home. There were three younger siblings some ten years younger, but I guess this picture was one of those mother-daughter adventures, known only to moms and the oldest daughters.

The world goes on...1945-1946...With Love, Henry.

Birthday Boy

Our senses provide us with information about life. Touch, smell, sight, hearing, and taste assist us in exploring the world around us. Having someone help lead the way around this experience helps most of the time. Older bothers tend to guide younger brothers.

The picture to the right is of my older brother Henry. He is using sight and touch to decide if this green stuff is good enough to eat? I know he chose wisely.

Today is his birthday. Many years later of course than when this picture was taken. He certainly help lead me through many investigations involving this life. Happy Birthday Henry, and thanks for helping me explore this world.

Life is not so simple, yes?

Life is birth...pictures, pictures, pictures...growing up...lots more pictures...growing out...lots less pictures...growing old...looking at growing up pictures...death. Life is not so simple, yes?

Life is simple, yes?

Life is...birth....growing up.....growing out......growing old.......death. Life is simple, yes?

Brothers

Brothers are special. They share a part of life with you that no other person on earth will ever share. Older brothers especially will take a special place in your life. They show you how to throw a ball, which shirt to wear or not, when to run, and when to fight...all sorts of things that have to do with life and growing up, going ahead and leading the way.

The picture to the right shows Edward Turner Jones (E.T.) with his older brother Benjamin Thomas Jones. Legs crossed in tandem, hands on lap, a serious look about both, bothers sharing something together...a picture it is. E.T., with pipe in mouth, has a vest in place. [I guess he wanted to record in history that he had takin up smoking, while his older brother had not.] Brothers together in time and space. What memories they share.

Breath of Life

To take that first breath of life is an important step for all of us in the human race. It usually starts with a cry, for having been a family physician for more than a quarter of a century, I have been present at many first breath experiences. [more than 800!] That breath fills the lungs, changes the blood flow through the heart, and moves us from a watery existence to the land side of life. Hearing that cry, the mother gets the first sounds of this new life that has been hidden in her womb for some 9 months, give or take a few weeks. All that morning sickness... long nights twisting and turning, trying to get comfortable from that kicking and movement...that big, big belly, and swelling in hands and feet...that reflux, those hemorrhoids, those stretch marks...all this to get to hear that first breath of life.

The picture to the right shows my wife holding our first daughter. Her arms did most of the holding and hugging. In spite of having delivered more than 800 babies, I can say that there is nothing like having your own! But, after 40 years of marriage, I have come to realize that it is the mothers that give the breath of life.

Life not Lived

The death of a child leaves a hole in the heart that is never filled. Life goes on but memories remain. May Millicent Ewen was born 7 December 1920, and died 25 December 1926. The picture to the right is of May Millicent, taken early in her childhood. It may be the only picture that the family has of her life. Granny Ewen and Granddad Ewen lost three children early in their married life. Their first child, Minnie Thelma Clay Ewen born, 24 March 1919, and died 11 March 1920. Their second child, May Millicent shown to the right. A third child named Susan Christina Ewen, born 7 April 1932, and died 25 July 1934. Lives not lived. What did we miss by not meeting or getting to know them. We will never know.

Say hello, May Millicent. What stories would you have told to your family? Those dark eyes, looking forward. You have the Ewen eyes and that Ewen round head! She is buried between her two sisters at Nada, just outside the front of the "Sunday Go to Meeting" church pictured in a previous post. Her grandfather and grandmother are buried just above. Forever part of the family...we certainly missed you.

Desert of Waters

It would only seem fair to Mom (16 Candles) and Dad (True Grit) to post my picture around the 16th birthday. Head titled a little to the right, black hair, brown eyes, and thick eyebrows come through. [Black hair and brown eyes were Ewen.] A thin narrow tie reveals the 60s. My smile looks a bit forced, but by this time in history you often had to smile on demand.

I can remember early on, that I was always fascinated with the stars. The constellations had their own stories from Greek mythology, and my favorite was the "Queen's Chair". [She was placed by the gods to stand on her head part of the year.] Asking for a telescope one Christmas, Santa brought me a microscope. A new idea...looking at the world from a different angle...looking inward instead of looking outward. Hum...I would become a doctor instead of an astronomer?

I often wonder if my life would have been different if I had gotten a telescope that Christmas. Becoming a doctor took a lot of determination and true grit. A little from Mom and a little from Dad, and a new idea. Carl Schurz said:

"Ideals are like stars; you will not succeed in touching them with your hands. But like the seafaring man on the desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, & following them you will reach your destiny."