Lately, I have been looking up my family history. It is amazing how you feel connected to the family before you as you see their names on a census record. I have not found any amazing connections yet but I am quite proud of my family roots. American farmers......Lived in one part of the country for over 200 years. They took care of the land and helped nourish Americans. They were just regular folks. They were not afraid to work hard.
I think we have to get back to understanding our history.... why we are Americans and stop apologizing. We have a rich history of people who overcame many obstacles. They did this to care for their families and live a good life.
I am proud of my family history and I am proud to be called American.
As we drove through the West this weekend I saw such beauty. I thought of those who came before us and how hard that trip must have been. I thought of the lives lost trying to get to California. I thought of my grandma as she traveled from California to Illinois. Such deep rich history we forget to share with our children.
I also felt a sense of loss. Lately, my prayers have been that as Americans, we remember. We remember what made us the country other people wanted to come to. That settlers were willing to die to become. That we never forget the past. I worry about the future and where we will be. Will my great grandchildren say "this is the generation that lost that freedom"? The generation that got so busy being entertained that we forgot to tell our children about our ancestors and what they did to bring us freedom. Good and bad. If we don't share the bad...we are at risk to repeat it.
I ask myself - have we forgotten the simple folks that came and tilled our land? Have we forgotten the simple people who had a dream? Why are we buying food from other countries? Why are we willing to let fear control our decision-making? Why do we think the government can take care of us? Why aren't we doing that in our family? I want my grandchildren to enjoy freedom over anything. Over videogames, trips, toys, or hand outs.
As far as I can see, my family tree represents the true roots of this country. Nothing flashy but real people who did their part.

What a mom notices.

Dear son,

I know life seems such a struggle sometimes. I am sorry you were dealt the cards you were given. I know it seems as if you are misunderstood by so many. They see you as lazy and don't care. But dear son, I know you do. I know you are one day going to rise up from within and take the reigns of this life you have been given and move forward. Until then, I will be your mom, your advocate and your friend. I will notice the little things that make you special. I will watch you at 16 and see the 4,5,6,7,8,....year old who seemed to have been forgotten. I see the little guy who lost so much. Who just wanted a family. Who just wanted to be regular. But you are not....you are my special boy who brings a light to my life.
I occasionally glimpse your way and watch how your bottom lip quivers. You don't know it but your mom does. I see you are a joyful soul even when life gave you nothing to be joyful about. I see the little boy sitting on the couch watching TV with me, whatever home improvement show, just to be near me. I see the man you are slowly becoming. I see the gentle man you are to the ladies. I see the special gift you are to me. I see how things get jumbled up in your head and frustration begins. I see that you are trying to do well but life seems so hard at times and you slack and just give up. But son, I am waiting for the day that you rise up from within and you take full control of your life. I wait for the day that you come up out of that water a new man. I wait for the day that you understand that the very things that kept you down, will be the very things you see victory over. I am thankful dear son, that you are who you are. I wait for the day that you see that you were never alone and that the strength you gained was from your Father. I am your mom and I love you dearly. We may not look the same and sometimes that is hard, but our hearts will be forever knitted together.

Love,
Your mom.