Tuesday, March 13, 2018

only a remote vision away




As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.

My cousin Amos sent me a Church video of a history where my Great Grandfather, Grampa and Dad went to Church and I watched it tonight and I am so nostalgic and melancholy now as I  saw so many of my dead people having a wonderful time building the Church, scooping snow, Christmas programs and picnics.

The latest film was from the 1950's and early 1960's. I saw people I had only heard the names of and saw people who were ancient when I was a child.

What struck me was they were so happy, not like people are now. These people had nothing and swarms of children, but they were happy. It was just the hope of life in the American Dream and they worked so very hard, but always were generous with a smile or food.

I remember those last Church picnics when I was a child. There were races and always potluck. They hauled the folding chairs from the school in a cattle trailer.  It was always along the lake and it was one of the few  times I ever liked going to Church.

I saw my Grampa and his brother playing ball. It was the same diamond where we used to play every Wednesday night in the neighbor kids got together. I remember so much about that lake and what it used to be in an area of a park about the size of 40 acres used to be shoulder to shoulder some summer Sundays.

My Grampa used to fish northerns by the creek there in his old Dodge pick up.

I miss those people. They loved picnics, loved family, loved always getting together. There were neighbor women as girls teaching Sunday school. I think the one is 90 now and the other is in the nursing home as she had a brain aneurysm. Her husband was killed in being hit by a truck a few years ago, after he visited her.

The people I saw were the children of the names which settled this region. My family was one of them who turned wilderness into homes. I have noticed that half of those families in their names have died out now. Such happy and generous people and all they are, are names on tombstones and the memory of my Dad mentioning those names as his neighbors.

It made me smile in the checker at our grocer was telling me a few months ago wandering around in that cemetery and she mentioned a name I had heard and started talking about it and she said, "Oh those were my great grandparents as that was my dad's mom."

That was a country Church then as it was a settlers Church. The first one blew down in a tornado in the  30's.  That was not the "big blow" which flattened most of the country and killed people, but it did get a new Church built. What impressed me was I spotted the altar that is still in the Church today which they rebuilt. It is so different from the big square altars one sees now. This one had spirals and a painting of Christ on it.  I would love to know where they purchased that altar.

I am playing in my mind the footage of my Grampa running to the base like his brother. They were so young then and wiry.  I could see I was a great deal more like him than I thought. God I miss those people.

Those people were people who had little schooling, but built America, created an American Race and through the God won America's wars. They were a evolved race of perfect Spirits and what is now in America is race of devolved brooding souls

If I could step back to that era I would be gone from here in an  instant and never come back. I belong to those people and want to return to them.

I have to write a thank you to my cousin for sharing this dvd.  It has been so long in those memories I have forgotten. I have forgotten how very good people used to be. I can feel their pulling me. I should be careful if I focus too much I just might step through that veil and not come back until 60 years have brought me here.






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