I think we were getting ready for my baptism.
I want to introduce you to the man who was 'Dad' for me - Grampa George. At some point after the accident that took Dad, he and my Grandma moved to California to stay with us. I don't know for sure, but I suspect that Grandma's diagnosis of breast cancer may well have played a part in that choice too. I honestly do not know what their motive truly were. All I know is that I am so grateful they were there.
Rahe and Evah George, sometime in the 1930s.
Evah and Rafe, ca. 1954.
I have some flashes of recollection of train trips taken when I was three , four and five. One to see my Aunt Frances, so mom could get he to sign off on my adoption.
Two to Illinois, the second, in 1955, for Grandma's funeral. I can only speculate, but I have a suspicion that the trip in 1954 was to select and move some of Rafe and Evah's things (the china hutch I still have) to California.
Along with mom, Grandpa and Grandma George gave me a warm, strong and loving foundation on which to grow.
I miss them still.