And once more it is the changing of the seasons.

It is amazing that no matter what we do as mortal men/women, it pales in comparison to what Mother Nature guided by the hand of God can do!  The sun comes up every morning and goes down every night.  It's path across the sky is always the same.  We look at the same horizon that was placed there lo those many years ago.  The sun I will see in a few minutes is the same one that my mother watched on the plains of Kansas and is the same one her mother and grandmother watched  across the ocean in a land I will never see.

Always in the back of my mind, when I think of my ancestors, I picture Ellis Island.  I will never see the Statue of Liberty, but it is as clear in my mind as the keys on this keyboard that I write on today.  I see the Haas family clearing land along the river to build a home to raise children.  The natural progression of live never ceases to amaze me.  Nature never ceases to amaze me!  

When I was a child, I thought as a child and when I became older, I put away my childish ways, or did I?  Life was so simple when all I had to do was play in the dirt and eat wormy Mulberry's from the tree North of the house.  Sunday's always found us in Plevna, Kansas at Grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield for Sunday dinner.  We always gathered at the round oak table and there was always room for all of us and we all had a chair.  Grandma Hatfield always cooked the chicken and there was always enough.  It always amazed me how that worked out!  There were never leftovers and no one left hungry.  There was always pie for dessert and the pies were always cut into exactly enough pieces.!  

Grandma Haas was crippled by a stroke and she walked with the help of a walker.  Great Grandma Hatfield took care of her, but still kept her active.  They both wore aprons.  Always.  Get up, get dressed, put on your apron.  I have an apron that I usually wear when I am baking, but other than that, just clothes.  Great Grandma would get a pan of potatoes and a paring knife and hand them to grandma.  It took grandma a while to get the potatoes peeled, but it was her job.  

The parrot, "Polly" would set on its perch and sing "After the ball is over, after the dancers are gone....".  Great grandma would step around the corner and feed Polly a piece of apple, or celery or something.  And the Grandma Hatfield would tell how Polly had come from Brazil and was brought here by an ancient relative who "sailed the seas".  Polly had been featured in the Kansas City Star many years before.  When Grandma Haas passed and Great Grandma Hatfiield moved to Coldwater, Kansas, Polly and her perch went with her.  When we learned of Polly dying, we were all devastated.  An era was over.

Great Grandma Hatfield lived to be 104 years old.  I never seen her again.  When she passed she was returned to Abbyville, Kansas to rest in the family plot there.  I want to return some day and see her grave.  When I have served my time here on earth, I will be interred in Pueblo, Colorado.  Just seems like the place to be.

I love to go "back home".  I love to visit the graves of my forbearers.  It gives me a sense of peace to look back on the road I have traveled. My heart swells with a sense of pride that the ancestors that came before me  forged a living from unyielding earth to make a place that this skinny little, knob kneed creature that lived to become "Lou Mercer" could grow and thrive.

Momma taught me to never forget where I came from and always be proud of my ancestry.  

And I am!

Now I remember!

When I started out the other day, I had what I wanted to say in my little pea brain, but then I wandered off on a tangent and never made it back.  See,  think we are all descended down from a very long line.  Some where in our genes is every ancestor back through the beginning combined to make us who we are.  I also think that all of those genes are still living.

Like have you ever met someone and had an immediate connection with that person?  It is like you have always known them on some level even if you have no idea who they are or anything about them.  Have you ever walked into some place and knew on some level that you had been there before, but you knew you had not and you had never been in that area before, yet there it was and you knew when you went in the next room what you would find.

Much like a food, that although you have never eaten it, you know you do not like it.  And if you pick up a pen to write and have no idea what you are going to write, but soon the words begin to flow and the page is full.  By instinct you know that a rattlesnake is bad news.  You may have never seen one, but immediately you know what it is and you move away.  Same with a black widow spider.  They look harmless, but they strike terror in your heart.  Maybe some where deep in the recesses of your mind you have dealt with this stuff.

Most of us know that babies are helpless, but very soon they are reaching for stuff, moving toward things and then crawling and running.  We do not have to tell them to do this.  It comes from there inner voice.

I have an aversion to water.  Big bodies of water terrify me.  Why?  Who knows what went on back in my lineage.  I know my ancestors came over on a boat from Germany.  I know uncle Goll fell into a ditch in Dittengren, Germany when he was a tiny bay in his stroller.  Could that be what gives me my fear?

Just some thoughts before I go to bed.  Let me know what you think about my theory.  Sleep tight!