Family Tree

Brother Brigham's final restin' spot in downtown Salt Lake City. An appropriate way to recognize the 24th of July, I thought. My kids will disagree...

Henry Moon, my 3rd Great-Grandfather

My kids might remember this trip as the one where Mommy made us go to about a bajillion cemeteries looking for dead people.

I totally did.

Last year I put together a big ol' book of my Horrocks family history. They are from England. They were ranchers, fruit farmers, weavers, school teachers, quilters, midwives, coachmen and who-knows-what-else.

These people worked hard. Every thing you have ever heard about sacrifice is them. They did whatever they needed to do to be true to their faith.

They make me want to work hard.

Not complain.

Remember what I have and what my responsiblity is to appreciate and share it.

I had a couple of good, long conversations with my circle of girls (friend, sister, aunt, mom, grandmom...) about our faith. The church to which we belong, and the sacrifice and hard work it requires.

I felt stronger after visiting these graves, reading their names etched into their gravestones, and remembering what they did. I decided that I wouldn't ever be the one who forgot their efforts.

I wanted pictures of their earthly resting places. So I recruited my kids and their cousins and friends and we had a good time. I think it wasn't as boring as they thought it would be.

Sarah Ann, who was kidnapped by her brothers as she and her family were getting ready to board a ship to leave for America with other new church converts. It took her years to save up enough money to escape and find her husband and children in Utah. What a gal.

Some graves we found were so sad

Some were awesome and awe-inspiring--doesn't he look like a tough old pioneer? I bet his wagon train was ship-shape.

And, despite what the kids say, they had a blast trying to see who could find the oldest grave and get a dollar in the process.