Category Archives: Family History

Sound of Silence

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Heather, Tracy and Jason 1990

Homeschool Days

I was privileged to home-school our three children for most of their education, which opened the door for me as their teacher to learn too. What I loved the most about teaching was the ability to have interest-led learning; where we studied things my kids were interested in for as long as they wanted to learn about it. One favorite unit study we did was all about the ear and hearing–science, history and inventions, It had a lasting impact on all of us.

Helen Keller’s story as told in The Miracle Worker, showed what it was like to not be able to hear, see or talk from birth. But once this door of communication was unlocked for Helen by her teacher, Anne Sullivan, she began to understand how to learn. From that point on, Helen was voracious to discover everything about her world–A true miracle.

Benefits of Knowing Sign Language

In high school the private school we joined offered ASL. Our two daughters both took it and our oldest became quite proficient, even teaching the high school students’ class after she graduated.

At age 16 Tracy was hired to care for a young girl who was deaf from birth and also unable to eat, walk or talk. It was her Mom’s desire for her to learn how to communicate using sign language. This was such an opportunity for Tracy to understand more about those who are deaf. She grew in her love for and care of Lindsay and enjoyed helping her learn.

Disability in our Family

Fast forward to 2020 when Elias joined our family. We are so grateful he can hear, but he still is working hard to learn how to talk. He can say “hi” and “nay” (Nana) quite well, and we have faith as his story unfolds he will be able to speak. If Helen could learn to talk without hearing, we believe Elias can too.

Why post about this? Yesterday I saw a commercial about a football player who is deaf; you read that right. New technology from AT & T 5G is making it possible for those who are deaf to be able to play football. They say it is leveling the playing field for deaf athletes. What wonderful news. Following is the commercial you can watch. But grab a tissue–it made me cry.

Benefits of Technology

How exciting to see the advances being made for those who are born without one or more of their five senses. Our grandson has all of his senses, but he can’t walk or talk. We believe technology will play a part in his learning to walk. So much is possible for the good of those who are different from the norm. And these stories are powerful to hear.

Today I am much more grateful for things I used to take for granted. The most basic of senses are a gift we’ve been given by God. Let’s use them well and break the sound of silence by speaking to those who are different and letting them know we see them and that they matter.

Helen never heard a word in her life, yet her story has reached millions since she was born.

Meme cred: Brainy Quote

Crazy Horse Memorial and a Touchstone

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On Day 4 we drove to Custer, South Dakota, for lunch on our way to the Crazy Horse Memorial. We enjoyed out lunch so much at Custer Wolf Cafe. The service and food were delicious, and the cooler weather made everything better about this day.

When we were driving North to the Memorial we had no expectations. Other than my sister had heard that the entire Mt. Rushmore monument would fit in Crazy Horse’s monument with room to spare. Impressive. But what’s more impressive is that this project that began in the 1940’s has been built without any government assistance. I like that the Lakota Nation wanted to do this themselves and with the willing donations of others.

There is no known picture or impression of Crazy Horse, so the sculptor interviewed those native Americans who knew him. They described his appearance which led him to create his likeness on the statue.

At this point they’ve only finished his stoic face and his outstretched arm over the mane of his horse. This is the miniature created so you can see what the finished sculpture will look like…

This is the poem written by Korczak Zholkowski…

His Face
His Hand

While there we sat in on the demonstration of a Native American playing the songs of many different tribes. Imagine my delight when he began talking of the Creek Indians and their requirement to follow the Trail of Tears to Indian Territory, now known as Oklahoma.

The book I wrote about my Grandmother, Through The Eyes of Grace, is steeped in this rich history. My grandfather and Great-Grandfather were both listed in the Dawes Rolls. This allowed them to receive the full benefit of 160 acres of land each, granted to all known members of the Five Civilized Tribes—Cherokee, Creek, Seminole, Choctaw and Chickasaw Indians.

When he spoke of this horrific part of our history, he mentioned how many of the tribes had become Christian. As a result the song that united them on this trail was Amazing Grace. This just so happened to be my Grandmother’s favorite song. Such a touchstone that nearly made me cry as he played it on the Creek Nation’s native instrument. Listen in…

Crazy Horse died at the young age of 35, lying on the bare floor in Ft. Robinson.

This Memorial is due to be finished by 2035. I may never see it, but this visit inspired me to be grateful for the stories that shaped my ancestral history.

Do you know the stories that have inspired your history? I encourage you to seek and discover your hidden stories. They matter more than you know.

Buddy

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He was my 1st cousin, but old enough to be my Dad. His children (my 1st cousins, once removed) were the cousins I played with, hunted Easter eggs with and spent the night with at our grandmother’s (Big Mama’s) house. This was in Clermont, FL. What used to be a small citrus community west of an also unknown town called Orlando.

It used to take us all of 30 minutes to drive to my grandparents’ house when I was growing up. We watched for the only landmark among acres of orange groves during our drive—The Citrus Tower!

How times have changed. Clermont and Orlando are nearly inseparable. But I will never forget my growing up years and the adults who watched over me.

I learned last week that he left this life. I cried remembering the ways he helped our family through the years.

He was in the citrus business as was his dad, granddad and great-grandad before him. But he watched the industry dissipate. It was such a sad day when he bought the last 20 acres of groves from my Mom to develop it into a neighborhood. Of course we were grateful he was able to do this from a financial standpoint. But my Mom and I never went back to Oswalt Road in South Clermont after it was fully developed. Not because we weren’t happy for how he had taken the next step in our family’s story, but because we wanted to remember what was. My Mom moved there from Oklahoma when she was only 9 months old. This was her hometown!

Richard “Buddy” Oswalt went to be with the Lord last week.

I loved his laughter, his pranks and the way he loved life. Following is the tribute his three surviving children wrote about him. You’ll see what a man he was by the legacy he leaves behind.

Buddy was born on September 16,1937 in Clermont, FL. to Vick and Frances Oswalt. Buddy was a lifelong resident of Clermont, graduating from Clermont High School in 1955.

He passed away peacefully on September 26, 2022, surrounded by his loving family at his home in Clermont.

He married his high school sweetheart Gloria in 1957, the love of his life. He was employed by his father Vick Oswalt who owned Oswalt Grove Service, a citrus grove caretaking business. He became his dad’s right-hand man. His mother Frances was the office manager and bookkeeper. During his lifetime he also was involved in several ventures always connected to the citrus industry. B&O Dragline, Florida Air Spraying, Lake-Sumter Fruit Dealers and buying several orange groves through the years.

He belonged to the Clermont Jaycees who at the time built the Clermont Jaycee Beach. He was also a Clermont City Councilman for 4 years.

After the Citrus Industry in this area was devastated in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s, he began thinking of new ways to use his grove land. He attracted a few home builders who were looking for land to build homes for the new residents moving to this area. His son-in-law, Bill Thomas, custom home builder, built the first beautiful brick home in Crescent Bay on South Lakeshore Dr. on Crescent Lake. There were several more neighborhoods built throughout Clermont and South Clermont on Oswalt Land, one being on a family property originally owned by his Great Grandfather & Grandfather, purchased for a citrus grove in 1920.

He loved ranching, hunting, fishing, working and being in the outdoors. One of his special loves was growing things. He enjoyed growing oranges, lemons, avocados apples, peaches, blueberries, pecans, asparagus, flowers, and his favorites, daylilies, hibiscus, and flowering trees in both Florida and North Carolina. He took great pride in everything he did.

In the last 15 years, he enjoyed his mountain home on Cranberry Creek extending his love of water from Florida to North Carolina where he and Gloria spent the summers. He had the best of both worlds enjoying all the spring, summer and fall flowers and leaves. They met many friends through the church and the community where they lived.

He dearly loved his wife of 65 years, the love of his life and his family and especially spending time with them telling stories and making everyone laugh!

Survivors include, his wife, Gloria, daughters, Vicki O. Thomas (Bill), Becki O. Young (Faron) and son Mark A. Oswalt (Sara) He was preceded in death by his son Richard E. Oswalt, Jr. “Rick”, his father, Vick Oswalt and mother, Frances Oswalt, grandparents William and Grace Oswalt.

Grandchildren, Stacey Padgett, Stephanie Giraldo, Michael Kirkand, Mason Oswalt, Grace Oswalt, Lily Oswalt and Holden Oswalt. He has 6 great grandchildren Hunter and Joshua Crumbo, Madison and Makenli Kirkland, and Isabella and Ryan Giraldo. He is also survived by many cousins, nieces and nephews.

Brothers, Tom Oswalt (Shirley), John Oswalt (Carol) and sisters, Carolyn Bond (Wayne), and Dianne Russ (Charlie).

Funeral services will be held Friday, October 7, 2022, 2pm, at the First United Methodist Church of Clermont. The family will receive friends starting at 1pm at the church.

May he Rest In Peace!

Interviews

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I’ve had two recent interviews that I need to share with you. They were both significant moments where time seemed to stand still as I listened to myself answer questions from across the screen or room. Stories of the last three years and God’s faithfulness in each step.

The first interview was with my husband. A friend who hosts a podcast, Counseling Over Coffee, asked if we would be willing to share what it’s been like to have a grandchild with special needs. I like what her daughter, who has two boys on the spectrum called him, not disabled, but different-abled. Elias has continued to surpass expectations. We had so much to share our interview quickly became a two-episodes. You can hear the first interview here.

The second interview was unexpected and one of those “connect-the-dots of God’s faithfulness to me” moments.

Norah is our second oldest grand-daughter. She will be 15 next month which in itself is huge! Almost three years ago she battled a wicked disease called PANDAS. It is a miracle she has survived these past three years. Most of you are aware of this part of her life. If not, you can read it here.

She was given an 8th grade assignment to interview a grandparent. She came up with all the questions and asked them to me over Facetime. We got off to a good start…

“What year we’re you born?” 1959.

“Where were you born?” Orlando.

“How do you come to know Jesus?” This is when time seemed to slow to a crawl.

I realized Norah was asking me all the questions I regretted never asking my own grandmother. She died when I was 19. I was her youngest so she was 90 and had lived a full life. I just didn’t hear the answers to these questions until she had died.

I regretted my missed opportunity. How I wished time had slowed in that season of my life to ask such questions.

“How did you and Papa meet?“ We met at a Jesus Festival held here in Orlando.

“Have you ever seen God do a miracle?” Yes! I’m talking to her now!

Just this exchange was a moment—me sharing with her the miracle we both saw from two different perspectives.

“What gifts has God given you?” In 1989 God impressed on me that He had given me a gift of writing. He said He wanted me to keep a journal. And I’m still writing to this day—I am currently on my 78th journal.”

“You have 78 journals?” I do. I realized that writer’s write and God wanted me to learn how to write by writing. She smiled.

Through all my years of journaling I learned how to write, and this allowed me to finally write my grandmother’s story in my book titled, Through The Eyes Of Grace. It took me 12 years, and my Mom was the first to read it. To say it was my life-long dream would be an understatement. I have recorded with words the story I never took the time to discover when she was alive. But God helped me uncover it one question at a time.

What questions come to mind when you consider the story of your life? Do your children know the answers? Do your grandchildren? I encourage you to write them down so when they finally think to ask, the answers will be available for them to discover.

100

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That’s a number we often associate with a perfect score on a test or a high speed on the Interstate. But rarely does someone make it to their 100th birthday.

My Mom would have been 100 today.

She was born in the small town of Jenks, OK, in 1922 following the tragic death of her brother in 1920. Her only living brother was 11 years old at the time and was angry she wasn’t a boy. I can only imagine the heartache he suffered losing his little brother and best friend at such a young age.

The family moved to Florida when she was just 9 months old. Citrus groves were a hot, new investment for farmers and my grandfather and great-grandfather took the bait.

They arrived with the whole family including two cows and a horse by train. Once here they planted 32 acres of trees that produced a healthy crop for decades.

We have been in Florida ever since, but the orange groves are long gone.

It was a sad time in our family when the 32 acres of citrus trees we had were killed in the double freezes of 1983 and 1984. Only one tree survived due to it’s location; it was next to the irrigation pump that kept the tree just warm enough to save the roots of the tree.

My grandfather had installed that pump and it felt like part of him saved the lone tree for us to have its fruit. He passed away when I was 4 and my only memories of him are his pipe, the way he teased me and his delicious creamed corn.

My Mom sold the 12 acres of dead trees in town for the city to build a public park complete with ball fields, picnic pavilions, a massive playground and boardwalk through the bald cypress trees to the lake.

The other 20 acres she replanted with tangerine and tangelo trees alongside the one lone original tree. It stood like the grandfather of the grove making sure the young trees grew healthy and strong.

They did grow well, and we loved harvesting the early fruit that ripened just in time for Thanksgiving each year. We would pick as many as we could and gave them as gifts to friends at Christmas.

Those days are gone. My Mom was unable to afford to keep it, since the cost to harvest the fruit was more than the price she’d make selling it.

I’m sad to say the grove is now a subdivision in the sprawling hills of Clermont. The only memory of our family is the name of the road—It still bears my grandfather’s last name, Oswalt Road.

My Mom and I vowed to never drive out there again. A promise I’ve kept even after she took her last breath in 2012.

Happy 100th birthday in Heaven, Mom. I miss you. 💯🥰

Tears

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I began the following post during the holidays. I’m just now sharing it with you…

We are doing what we usually do this time of year…driving to visit our kids and grandkids who live out of town. We spent Christmas with our son in Tennessee, and now we’re heading to spend New Year’s with our daughter in Georgia.

Today, driving backroads through North Georgia, we came to an historical marker that has significance in my family.

The Trail of Tears.

It begins in South Carolina and meanders it’s way to Oklahoma—formerly known as Indian Territory until 1907 when Oklahoma became a state.

The deal was that Indians would forfeit the land they knew and loved in exchange for 160 acres of deeded land in Indian Territory, west of the Mississippi River.

My ancestors reluctantly made the trek, but due to controversies within the tribe they broke off and settled in Texas. Horn Hill to be specific.

Many indigenous people died on this trail, thus the name. But many made it to their “promised land”. Although they had many tears too.

I don’t like change.

I can’t imagine a group of settlers telling me that what was once mine is no longer so. I must now relocate to and unknown land and start anew. Yet this is what thousands of indigenous peoples did. They had no choice but to take the next step.

My grandfather and great-grandfather ended up with two 160 acre plots of land east of Jenks, Oklahoma. Their names were recorded on the Dawes rolls.

Such a legacy. I would love to hear their take on this process. I do know that they eventually mortgaged their allotted land to invest in citrus in Central Florida. It was their next step.

They moved here in 1922 and never looked back. They even allowed their land to foreclose because they loved Florida so much more.

What is the next step in your family’s journey? It may involve lots of tears, but may also come with lots of hope for a brighter tomorrow. All we can do is take the next step in faith trusting in God who leads us into His perfect plan.

It’s Sunday

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Of all the things my parents instilled in me, it’s the love of the local church and commitment to this community that stands apart.

I have so many memories of our little baptist church in the 60’s; the Sunday School class where I would embarrass myself at the young age of 12 by asking out loud, “What is circumcision?” The snickers from the guys in my class and the speechless response of my teacher let me know I shouldn’t have asked THAT question.

I was involved on Sunday nights too, with youth choir and the evening service. What my parents lacked in talking to me about my growth in God, they made sure I heard of it on a regular basis from these faithful stewards of God’s Word I. Our church.

I remember asking my Dad to walk with me down the aisle at the age of 10 (fifty two years ago this week). I felt God calling me and I was afraid. His presence gave me the confidence I needed to go forward, “Just As I Am”. Today would have been my dad’s 99th birthday. He’s been with Jesus now for 18 years and I miss still.

My grandmother (Grace) and my Mom were faithful to pray for me. I am reaping the benefits of those prayers even though they’ve both been gone from this life for a long time.

This gives me motivation to pray for my own children and grandchildren as often as it comes to mind. My prayers will outlive me for they circle the Throne of God as “incense before Him” as it says in Revelation 5:8.

The pandemic has caused many to abstain from going to their church’s service. Online capabilities has made it easier than ever to be a couch Christian. Oh, but what we miss when we neglect to gather.

Our pastor often says, “You never know what you’ll miss if you don’t come!” So true!

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭10:24-25‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Who knows what questions (even the embarrassing ones) are waiting to be asked and remembered for a lifetime. It’s all part of my story. We now have the privilege of being part of the story of others, unless we neglect this privilege.

May your Sunday find you seeking God and asking or answering good questions

Just BE

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Barefoot Cabin, Banner Elk, NC

In 2013 Tom and I bought a cabin in the high country of North Carolina.

We named it Barefoot Cabin in order to mix our love for the beach with our love of vineyards. And it’s a cute play on words since it’s former name was “Bearfoot Cabin”.

We chose the small town of Banner Elk (BE) elevation 4300’, thus the title of this post.

It is conveniently located between Sugar Mountain and Beech Mountains—the closest ski resorts to Florida. This area is affectionately called, The Florida Alps.

It has the best restaurants all located near the intersection with the only traffic light. This also happens to be the place where our youngest daughter got engaged during the 4th of July Parade in 2017. The only gas station is located at the same intersection and still offers full service. If you don’t know what that means—look it up. A bit of history that makes me smile.

We bought Barefoot Cabin right after my Mom died.

She and I took many road trips to NC when I was a kid to pick blackberries, huckleberries and go ruby mining. It’s one of the finest parts of my childhood. She would have loved it here.

I say “here” because Tom and I drove up after Thanksgiving to pack away the Fall decor and spruce the place up for our winter guests. It is my favorite time to decorate.

Due to family needs we didn’t make it here last December. I realize how much I’ve missed our cabin.

Below are photos of our progress thus far. If you’re looking for a place to rent either to go skiing this winter, or to have a nice cool Summer retreat in 2022, you can check out information on how to do that HERE.

My advice for today? Just BE!

Waves, Coasters and Journeys

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My last question was asked by Jeanine Byers of the Hallmark Christmas Life blog; “How do you – meaning you, personally – navigate ongoing grief and loss?”

Such a good question that has needed time to meld in my mind before responding. And I have prayed about the best way to do so.

Grief has been compared to waves that come and go, a roller coaster with highs and scary lows, or a journey that takes you places you never wanted to go. All are excellent comparisons. The thing is I have personally felt every one.

The waves of the sea are said to come in sets of 7. And the stages of grief are also said to be 7. Just as the waves vary depending on the wind above the waters surface, so too does my grief vary based on the winds of my emotions. Some days all is calm, other days the wind is violent and difficult to navigate through.

Jeanine watched a movie where the end hit her hard. I call those “rogue waves” that hit out of no where. She didn’t see it coming so the affects it had on her were greater.

Movies and music provide touchstones (parts that connect to you on an emotional level or shared experience). I’ve found when this happens the best thing to do is like a big wave—roll with it. It won’t last and it may be that my tears have been building and need release.

However, I have to guard my mind when it happens. Or I get on the emotional roller coaster that leads no where.

The grief I have experienced recently has left me sad. My brother died of Covid, but God determined the day he would take his last breath. This gives me peace because God is in control, I can trust Him.

Life is a journey and God has chosen an exit for each of us. He would that all of us believe in Jesus Christ for this is the door to eternal joy.

I have hope as a Christian knowing I will see my brother and my parents again one day in Heaven. My parents were both older (Mom 90 and Dad 81). My brother was only 66. He had so much ahead of him he hadn’t experienced yet. And that would be sad if this life was all there is. My belief in Heaven has made all the difference. He is experiencing a level of life now that I can only dream of.

I highly recommend Randy Alcorn’s book, Heaven. He has spent his life studying and forming a theology of Heaven that is compelling.

This is how I process ongoing grief, but everyone is different.

The best thing to do is to listen to those who are grieving. I’ve heard cliches are not helpful and I’ve found this to be so true for me. Just be present and let your grieving friend share. We don’t ever move on from the loss we’ve experienced, but we do move forward, some faster than others.

A good friend is there for the ride—whether it’s rolling waves, scary coasters or long road trips—whatever is needed.

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:17‬ ‭ESV‬

This is my 27th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.

Long-Distance Family

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We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing

Today is 24 days of posts in November. I’m amazed I’ve made it this far!

Nikki asked a really good question about celebrating the holidays.

“I have been thinking about the differences in holiday celebrations now compared to when I was a kid. Our family isn’t quite as close-knit — everyone in my generation has moved away whereas my parents lived near their parents so we could all gather for the holidays. Have you noticed the same in your family?”

In my generation most of us stayed close to our parents, so holidays were always a big event.

Our children all moved away after they were married. Some it took years and our last one moved when she got married. All three living in different states from us.

I never considered this would happen.

When our daughter moved to GA with two of our grandchildren ages almost 4 and almost 2 in nearly killed me. I didn’t see this coming and my heart was broken.

I had well-meaning friends who said things like, “At least you are close enough to drive there and see them.” This was like pouring salt in my wounded heart.

But God! He had other plans.

My hope was that our family would share life together. We would be available to babysit so our kids could cultivate their relationship in the throes of raising a family. Holidays would be challenging in how we would seat everyone around the same table.

First our daughter, son-in-love and two grandchildren moved to GA. in 2011.

A year later my Mom died in 2012, leaving me feeling orphaned since my Dad died 9 years earlier.

Second, our son moved to Tennessee for his dream job in 2014. He took his sweet wife and three more of my precious grandchildren with him. While I was happy for the dreams they were pursuing, my heart was broken for what could have been. It haunted me daily.

Then Disney came out with a new movie and a hit song that was played everywhere. It had the three words I kept hearing God say to me. “Let it go!” I was afraid to let go of my desire for fear that my kids would never move back.

Finally, when our youngest daughter got married and moved to yet another state in 2018, I was undone. Finally I knew I had to let go of what I had imagined life would be to let my kids have the freedom to follow their dreams. I needed to be their biggest fan, not their strongest antagonist!

This made all the difference.

I was able to let go and trust that God was leading our kids exactly where he wanted them to be.

Our holidays change from year to year. We have enjoyed times where we are all together, but more times than not, we’ve had to adjust our expectations and enjoy the ones who were able to be with us.

Most times we are the ones who travel to see them because our kids and grandkids are a priority to us, even if it’s not convenient. I love them and anytime we are able to spend together.

FaceTime is an almost daily occurrence, and for this I am so very thankful. I think often of my grandmother, Grace, who moved away from her family at 16 years of age. There was no telephone, no internet, no cars even. Miles separated them and the only communication took weeks to receive.

As I write this we are with one third of our family for Thanksgiving. The other two-thirds are spending Thanksgiving with their in-laws. We are choosing to focus on being present and enjoying what is, rather than being sad over what could have been.

But God! He is the only reason I’m able to say this.

We almost lost two grandchildren in the last two years, and I lost my brother this year. The distance that separates us doesn’t seem as significant now.

As my youngest daughter recently wrote about raising an infant with special needs, “Every day is thanksgiving, and even though I can still struggle with a heart of complaint. I pray my perspective is always pointed to what God has blessed me with rather than what I think He has taken away.”

Yes, Perspective. it makes all the difference in how we move forward from grieving what could have been to what we’ve been given.

This is my 24th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.