Come! Share the Journey of Family Heritage Stories, Laced With Patterns of Living Throughout Generations of Time. We Are All A Remnant of A Rich Tapestry, Waiting to Be Rewoven Together.


Many of us find ourselves longing for a connection to something, or someone from the days we cannot touch; sometimes inspired by a photograph or a scrap of withering notation we found tucked away between the pages of a book in a long-forgotten trunk, or some emotion we cannot ignore. There seems to be a common thread that connects us all to the past; be it a name, an expression, or a geographical placement in this timeline we call mortality. Whatever it is that connects us, and draws our thoughts and hearts to one another, seems to be the passion that brings us to this blogging thing. My hope for any connection leads me to share with you some commonalities in blogging, daring to claim a place among the great writers; but if nothing more than my own journaling, it will be a tangible way for me to make sense of my own individuality, vulnerabilities, and emotions as I continue on this journey called life. I hope this blog may encourage and uplift.

My Father's Family

This Page is dedicated to the paternal side of my family tree. 
My father's name is Melvin Allen Garber. The Garber name is a derivative of a Swiss Mennonite family name, the original spelling being Gerber. Immigration can be traced from the Alsace-Lorraine area of France, in the early part of the nineteenth century; with Grandfather Christian Gerber arriving in the port of New Orleans,  migrating to Tazewell County, Illinois. From there, my father's grandparents, Joseph and Bessie Kenagy Garber went to Colorado, where my grandfather Ivan Garber was born, eventually, making his way to Southern California, where my father was born, Jan 3 1928, in Long Beach, Los Angeles County. As time past, he met my mother, and voila'! Here I am!
My father's mother is Hannahretta Electa Bullard. She is half Swedish, Olson and Nelson (Neilson) being her Swedish family names. Bullard is English, but as one who researches family roots discovers, there are many more branches that fill a tree.

                         My Third Great Grandparents

                             Dayton Francis Dunham
                                  12 Nov 1814-5 Sept 1895
                                   Marilla Robinson
                                          20 Dec 1817-10 Nov 1897

   Dayton Francis Dunham born in Woodbridge, Middlesex, New Jersey. Marilla Robinson born in Royalton, Windsor, Vermont. They met in Decatur, Macon, Illinois, and married 9 July 1837. Together, they had at least 10 children. Their daughter, Caroline Elizabeth Dunham born 26 Mar 1849 in Decatur, Macon, Illinois, married James Asbury Bullard who was born 6 Dec 1848 in Jacksonville, Morgan, Illinois. On 20 Feb 1873 in Decatur, Macon, Illinois, they were married. She died 12 Nov 1932 in Decatur, and he died 29 Nov 1920 in Decatur. Together they had at least six children. Their son, Dayton Edward Bullard born 25 Dec 1873 in Decatur, married Olive Hulda Olson who was born 1 Feb 1876 in Rockford, Winnebago, Illinois. They married on 29 May 1895 in Decatur, Macon, Illinois. Together they had five daughters. Their second daughter Hannahretta Electa Bullard, became

                                 My Grandmother

Hannahretta Electa Bullard Garber
5 December 1899-11 October 1989

Born into a hard-working family of Swedish and English origin, Grandma Garber, as I fondly recall, will always be remembered for her generosity and heart of gold as she spent much of her life in the service of her family; while many charities benefited from her acts of kindness, as well.
Many of her contributions live on in hearts she touched.
 Some of my fond memories of my grandmother are the cookies that she used to send to us when we were far away, apart from the family unit that should have prevailed, were it not for happenstance in estranged relationships, due to divorce. Grandma Garber became known for her long-awaited Folgers or MJB Coffee can gifts of Christmas Cookie traditions. There were delectable morsels of vanilla divinity; raisin-filled sugar cookie stars, cherry winks, and peanut blossom delights, to name the most memorable ones to my taste buds.

I have been fortunate enough to inherit her recipe cards stained with finger smudges of persistent use. No amount of digital reproduction can replace the delight of such ownership.

On my bed, in colorful array of 1940's dress fabrics, rests one of her first quilts, appropriately named a Grandmother's Flower Garden.
 I would imagine, given the nature of the various floral patterns in the fabrics, that the scraps had been selected from the left over pieces of dresses her mother had made for her in her youth, and maybe her 4 sisters, as well.

 As I caress the tattered pathways of wonderful pastels and vivid orange and yellows common for that era,  I can imagine the mother-daughter pattern of conversation surrounding the table, as they perused the various scrap bags of choices, carefully selecting the combinations for each geometric garden patch; and then chit-chatting away as they exchanged intimate details of their individual love affairs with life, while their nimble fingers chased the needle in intricate patterns around the garden paths. I have yet to follow after their ways, but for now, only in my dreams.

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