Meißen

It is time for todaz’s update. But first, two funnz stories!First, Amanda complained to me this morning she could not get the shower to turn down the heat. Come to find out, she was trzing to adjust the regulator knob outside the shower on the radiators! I stepped into the bathroom to show her the fancz little faucet knob that moved both wazs to adjust the heat. Not to mention she had alreadz used it to turn on the water! She said it was because the shower in Amsterdam had a separate heat knob from the on and off knob. She saw me playing with the knob so she thought it was it.

Second, we stopped in town to buz ourselves some sauerkraut and a wiener. Amanda went to the counter and asked two. The ladz seemed verz surprised. I was waiting, so I did not see this. Next thing I know, Amanda comes walking out of the store with these loaves of bread, more like oversized croissants. Each must have weighed at least 3 pounds! It was bread with the sauerkraut and wieners baked into the loaf. This was to be our breakfast and turned out to be our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. What is more? We still have half of one left!!!! But hez, for onlz 3€ ($5) it was a prettz good buz. Amanda’s first trz at sauerkraut is going to be a verz memorable moment!

On to the daz. We decided to sleep in to the ripe time of 7:30 this morning. The sun comes up and goes down so late zou can’t reallz sleep when it is dazlight. Great for touring and traveling, bad for sleeping in. We got readz for the daz, tried to take care of some issues over e-mail with our potential home and other things and headed out.

We went to Meißen. It is the birthplace of Karl Maeser, and also happens to be the birthplace of mz great grandfather, William Andra. I had to paz a visit. We walked the streets, and ascended the hill to the DOM and Albrechtsburg Kasse (castle). Fascinating. We also walked around and paid a visit to the Porcelain Factorz. The first porcelain in Europe. Some of mz Andra ancestors are supposed to be some of those locked into the basement of the Albrechtsburg Castle to not let the secret of porcelain out to the world. I cannot link mzself with a hard paperwork, but since mz line are Andrä’s in Meißen and since some of them were Andrä’s in Meißen, whz not? (It is reallz cool I can spell the Andrä name with the umlaut!)

We then went to the church I thought was the one thez would have attended, but I reallz doubted it was it when I arrived. I have a picture, and in mz mind thez did not match up.

The porcelain factorz was amaying! Zou will have to see pictures to believe it. There were table pieces larger than Amanda in height! There were vases from the 1700’s larger than me! Onlz something to be seen to believe.

Amanda’s poor feet could not take well the long dazs of traveling and rebelled against her todaz. She will have calluses the thickness of regular shoes when we are done traipsing around the continent.

There was a highlight, we bought an e’clair at the train station. Tomorrow we are headed to Augsburg, near Munich. We will also hit Dachau.

More Info for Colleen’s Journal

I received an e-mail from Sally Buttars with some information about Grandma’s (Colleen Andra Jonas) Journal.  Here are the details she helped with (with minor editing).

“Chick ( Delbert Bair) was a Richmond original.  Chick lived up on third East and first South and his home sat right on the corner.  The home is still there.  Chick nevered married.  I use to deliver the Herald Journal to him.  Chick had this monkey and it was mean.  Chick’s brother Blaine (Cub Bair) lived just through the field behind my Dad and Mom’s home.  Cub and his wife Emma did a lot of things with my folks.”
“Now Dutch (Dutch Reese) didn’t live in Richmond.  Dutch was from Amalga.  Dutch was a big time cattle buyers.  He used to come to Richmond a couple of times a day just to have coffee at LD’s.  I used to work at LD’s at that time.  Dutch was one of the biggest BS’ers in the valley, but he had the heart of gold.  I’ll never forget Dutch.  He had eye glasses that looked like the bottom of a Coke bottle.  Dutch would tease every waitress that worked at LD’s.”

Colleen Mary Andra’s Journal

This is the work of several hours of typing.  An hour here, an hour there, adding to a cumulative of about 10 hours over the past year.  I am happy to report, I have finally completed this task.
I never knew my Grandmother kept a journal until my Sister mentioned it to me in 2003.  I was finally able to snag it from my Aunt Jackie on the promise I would return it.  To uphold that promise and to ensure it is not lost with it going back into her hands (you would have to know the situation to understand) I have typed the entire thing up.  The same like I did with my Great Grandmother’s (Lillian Coley Jonas 1898-1987) journals.
To preserve these journals for posterity, I will place them all up here (Lillians’ will be up shortly).
This journal starts in mid 1944 and ends fall 1946.  It is her high school years and covers several noteworthy dates.  She records V-E and V-J day.  She comments about the passing and birthday of siblings.  While her entries are typically short, they do flesh out years I knew nothing of previously.  There are many sites mentioned which do not appear to be still present and even in asking older people, they do not know them either.  White City is the main location nobody seems to remember.  I assume the saw mill is the Temple Saw Mill site up Logan Canyon.  Logana was a swimming hole in Logan.  Another issue is that many people are mentioned by their first name only, and even then many by nickname.  I do not assume Dutch, Chick, and other names are actual names.  Hence my difficulty.  I fear only those closest to the situation would know who these people really where, and most of those closest don’t remember or are no longer available for asking.
There are also cultural things which have changed.  Going to a movie or swimming on Sunday is now taboo in LDS culture where they were much more common place then.  The separated meeting schedule is apparent with Sunday School and night church (Sacrament) being defined as separate meetings.  Most of us would not even make mention to the fact that we listened to the radio where it was made special mention of in this journal.  The putting up of the hair is another phrase which is not heard anymore.  Other phrases in the journal have a completely different connotation in today’s world and hopefully they will not be understood in that light.
Colleen Mary Andra was born 27 May 1928 in Preston, Franklin, Idaho.  As the journal shows, the main location of most events is Preston, Idaho.  She married Wilburn Norwood Jonas 27 Sep 1946 in Elko, Elko, Nevada as is obvious in the journal.  I have written more about them at this link:  Jonas-Andra Wedding.
There are interesting things to note of the Jonas family as well.  The marriage of Evan and Lona, the death of Irwin Jonas, and more are to be found.  The journal definitely focuses on the Andra side in its short entries.  Norwood would die tragically in 1975.  Colleen would remarry twice more before she would pass away suddenly in 1999 from an operation.
I hope for those who read this and can add anything more, I would appreciate hearing from you.  Defining more of these people and places involved would be great help and very appreciated.  Please feel free to download a copy (by clicking on the link below) for your reading pleasure.  I beg of you for your input and recollections!

Colleen’s Journal 1944-1946

Philadelphia

I have just added nearly 70 more pictures to the newest album.  It is the 2008 album and has been appropriately named.  As we continue through the year, I will do like I did with the Virginia Living album and put the most recent photos at the front.
The pictures all come from our most recent trip to Washington, D.C. and Philadelphia.  There are photographs from the U.S. Capitol, Washington Cathedral, Independence Hall, Congress Hall, Carpenter’s Hall, and other sites in Philadelphia.  Amanda and I drove up Thursday evening to Kensington, Maryland and stayed with my Uncle Donald and Aunt Lolane Andra.  We worked in the Washington D.C. Temple Friday morning and then went to visit the Capitol and Cathedral.  Saturday morning we arose early and drove to Philadelphia by way of Delaware and New Jersey.  Philadelphia for the most part was a beautiful day.  It was a bit brisk at moments but they were not long lasting.
We were fortunate to not have any long lines for us to wait.  We entered most of the buildings very quickly and in some instances had the building almost to ourselves.
It was a great little get away weekend.  This coming weekend we are headed off to Williamsburg.  What will be in store for us there?

Photo Album for Thanksgiving 2007

The photo album that I just placed up a few hours ago are all photos Lolane Andra took.  She and Donald came down after Thanksgiving and spent a couple of days with us.  We went around and saw a bunch of the sites.  So you will see a pretty good variety of locations.  Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, Jamestown, Monticello, Confederate White House, Hollywood Cemetery, and who knows what else.  I put most of the pictures up.  Enjoy!  You may recognize a couple of the photos as very common to other photos in other albums that we took.

Report for Thanksgiving

Here is a short update of what has been happening the past few weeks.
Thanksgiving Day we spent at Uncle Don and Lolane Andra’s home in Kensington, Maryland.  We enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving meal with them and the rest of the Rock Creek Ward.  We really enjoyed ourselves although we did not get to take home any left overs.  They came down to Richmond that evening and spent Friday through Monday with us.  Amanda took them to Monticello, we went to Jamestown Settlement on Saturday, Sunday we toured some of Richmond, and Monday we went to Shirley Plantation.  The highlight in the whole thing was taking them to church with us and meeting up for lunch with Sister Andra on Monday.  Sister Andra is Donald’s brother’s granddaughter, my second cousin.  It was a new idea for me to be at lunch with three missionaries and they are all related to me!  Please notice the picture I posted of us in the Virginia Living and Andra Family Albums.
Amanda has been a little stressed with finals coming this week.  So there has been a juggling act of sorts here at the Ross apartment.  I put my first application in for law school last night.  We we start the mad rush of applications and then the hurry up and wait game.  I guess I better start putting some more effort into securing employment after the new year.
In other news, I received a message from the detective for mother’s case.  I very much appreciate his goodness and comments.  I did have a few questions to ask of him and I hope he will respond.  Perhaps we can put to rest a few questions I have had lingering over these years.

Mom’s Fall 07 Letter

The last time I talked to the appt atty I asked if anything would be happening this year and he said no.  I got to write him and see if he will tell me anything.  He says my case is rare and he has only found 1 case law in Colorado.  I do not know if I ever sent you the statement Ron sent me that came off the Times News website or not but I will send it to you again.  “Randy Stoker decided the evidence would be so prejudical that he negotiated a plea from murder in the first, possible death penalty to murder 2/25 to life with the possibility of parole after 25.”  I received this in Jan 2005.  I never knew nothing about this.  Stoker sold me out and the whole world knew about it but me.  No one and I mean no one pleas to the max sentence.  The PA knew about it and it only takes 2 for conspiracy Carlson knew about it cause he sentenced me to exactly what Stoker sold me out for.
Burr-Jones flat out told me there is no evidence against me.  Statistics of survey shows 1 out of every 33 people are innocence.  Franz sent me some info on judges and juries and the errors on convictions is in the 80%’s.  I hope you stay as far away from criminal law as possible.  That means politics too.  Larry Craig found out he caint just withdraw your plea anytime you want when he got caught with his dick in his hand.  Politics is all corrupt.  Do not tell me I do not know what I am talking about.  I am twice your age but I am not as stupid as you think.  I have never had anything to do with politics and I never will.  I am anarchist and do not like the corrupt govt and I have seen a lot of it.  That is why I have never voted and never will.  That is why I am Atheist too cause I am strong enough to take my life in my own hands and not need to rely on an imaginary things like deities or the human species like JS and BY who were cold-blood bastards!  I read a book last week called “The Ferry Woman A novel of the John D Lee and The Mountain Meadow Massacre” by Gerald Grimmett.  Put it on your books to read list and check it out.
What about William’s other son Chad?  You know anything about him?  He had 5 boys right?  There was 2 older and 2 younger than Kent my age.  They were all pretty good looking boys so I imagine they all ended up handsome men.  I have never seen any of them since ’68 when we moved to this shit hole.  I believe Marc wrote me when I was first arrested and was at Cassia.  What did he retire from?  He is younger than me and I aint of age to retire yet.  He have health problem or just spent 20-30 yrs with the same co.  He was incarcerated at the time he wrote me.  How many of them more than 1 wife?  Did not you say Edith was in Stockton and that was how you found Kent?  Just trying to remember back.  I guess you know you favor the Andra side of the family.  So does Doug.  The last picture I seen of Doug it looked like he was losing the top of his hair.  I hope you do not lose yours but then I wondered cause you changed your hair style and started to comb it in the lazy man way of combing it forward.  Your hair was so pretty, then you started putting goop on it, now you comb it forward with no style.  How come?
I heard Crabtree fill in butt fucks place after karma got him.  I understand from people here who know of him that he is a pretty fair and decent guy.  No I do not think he belongs to the LDS cult from what I have been told.
I thought you wanted to go to U of V?  How come all of a sudden you are going to come back to this shit hole?  You caint go to USU any more?  They have the Innocence Project at Moscow?
Now before I get into the rest of your letter I want to ask you a question.  A few months ago I asked if you could send me a little money.  You said no but yet you flew cross country, bought a pickup and now plan on going to Europe.  So I will ask you if $50 is going to set you back that much that you caint spare it?  I have been living off my last check of $19 for the month of June.  My last envelope is going to you now.
Since I was not alive in ’46 I caint know what went on.  I only know Dad worked at Sego Milk.  They did wait to have kids.  They build their house and got settled before kids came along.  Dad was sent back east when he came home there was a lot of money put into the factory when they put in the diet line.  A product like Slimfast type stuff.  Then they shut the Richmond factory down and left the Buhl one open.  Then they decided they made a mistake a few years later.  They should of closed the Buhl one and left the Richmond one running.  We moved to Burley and Dad worked for Del Monte.  The water tower is a memorial of Dad cause he made it.  Then he got ran over.  The End of him.  Colleen worked at Del Monte in Smithfield but I do not know how many campaigns and do not care.
Being Grandma Jonas lived in Richmond we could ride our bikes up to her place.  Grandma had chickens and pigs and a good size garden so she pretty much was self sufficient.  Bottled her vegs and had a root cellar.  Grandma was pretty much poor.  Dad came from the wrong side of the tracks.
As far as the Andra’s went my family was the black sheep cause my Dad turned against the fucking religious cult they believed in.  Every time we went up there I always got blamed for everything.  Grandma must not of liked me very much.  Finally Colleen told Grandma to get off my ass that all my life she had rode my ass and to get off it and leave me alone.  As far as I know I was the only one who ever got baby blankets from her.  But spending all my life being got done on by her had its affect.  Grandpa was a farmer.  That was about all I say for them except when Colleen asked about a guy I was running around with from Preston, she told Colleen he was an outlaw so I fit in real well.
You were in Wyoming on the Leefe job the summer of ’79.  You was still in the oven baking.  I had been back in Idaho to start the been campaign 1 week and you were born.  You were up there in ’80 too.  Rode in the loc with me till I got wrote up for having you in there.  I took care of you when I got in the wreck at Max.  Just cause I lost my legs and was bunged up did not mean I did not take care of you.  I still had arms and could drag myself around.  Same way when I cut my arm in half.  Like I said I cut my arm on New Years Eve and had it back in use when I wrecked Feb 10th.  I left in Mar or April to take apps for the Soda job.  You do not seem to understand Paul that I am a surviver and I could not afford to be laid up.  I had a son and needed to support him and myself.  You were mine and I had an obligation in raising you.  I had no help from anyone.  But I did stay at Colleens til I got the little house (’80).  I also squandered $25,000 on some son of a bitch paying his bills while his checks went to a pig he was married to.  And NO Milo never ever had anything to do with you.  He could not even communicate with you.  When you weren’t talking he never even tried.  You and I had our form of communication.  We moved to the 3rd house from Kasota in ’83 and to the 1st house in ’93.
That kinds of answers your questions in your letters.  Hope that is what you were looking for.  Maybe some day I can go in depth face to face with you.  Other people I caint tell you much about.  As a child growing up I was very shy and self-conscious, never said very much.  In the last 9 years I have learned to tell you where the bird at a snap of the fingers.  I do not really give a shit if it hurts your feelings or not.  DO NOT FUCK WITH ME is my attitude.  Good defense mechanism and it works.
The person above me is from Burley and she had a picture of Randy Nelson, Carl Lee’s brother.  He is a year older than me.  Randy has been in trouble all his life with drugs and alcohol.  He just got out of the pen in Sept.  He spent 11 years down.  She had a picture of him before he went in and a picture of him after he got out.  He looks like he is 90 years old.  It really blew me away.  That is what incarceration does to people.  Not only does it age you but it ruins your inner self.  For some reason they just do not see what they are doing to a human being.  I guess Carol Lee has cancer again and is as much as dead.
I wrote to Sherry Swiney who has that patrickcrusade website and asked her to please take everything off the website.  I am not sure but I think Franz has the manipulated trial website.  I have asked Franz several times to take everything off so I do not know why he has not.  I mailed Sherry’s letter last Sunday so she is just getting it probably.  Will you check in a couple of weeks and see if it is still there if so will you email her about getting it off?  Also check the other one and see if anything is there if so will you please email Franz and ask him to take it off.  Let me know if and when it is gone, OK.  I want it gone.
I got a letter in the mail box to Sal too.  She sent me a pamphlet about Richmond.  It blew me away.  It has pictures and tells about businesses.  I am not upon the address so some of them I can only guess where they might be.  I want to so bad go down there and see Sal and check the town out.  I am going back one way or another to get residency and get rid of my 1st name.  You do not know how bad I hate that name.  Then I want to go to Norwood, Wyoming and see what that town is like.  If I caint set myself up then I want to head north.  Paul I have made my mind up that I am not coming back to this shit hole.  That means my post conviction is going through.  I caint think any other way.
It is time for me to close this letter so I will sign off.  I just remembered Phillis was Donald’s 2nd wife and Lolane is his 3rd.  Do not know if you knew that or not.  Anyway, you two take care.  Mom

Passing of sand; Mr. E. E.

Today waiting for a stop light, I looked for a number in my cellular phone.  There I noticed a number for a friend who passed away a few months back.  I don’t know any reason to keep it anymore, so I deleted it.  The thought crossed my mind of another friend who had passed away and found his number.  I deleted it as well.  Again I find myself reflecting with the passing of another life.  There seems to have been a number of them lately.  Terry McCombs, David Donaldson, Justin Rose, and now Evan Elliott.
I learned of Evan’s death on Halloween.  Apparently he had a massive heart attack and died at home on the 24th.  There was a pang of guilt for having not written him back two weeks before when I had felt the prompting to do so.  I wrote some others I thought would be easier to write.  I guess I am absolved of the responsibility now.  His graveside service was just a few hours ago.
Once again, I reflect on the influence of another in my life with their passing.  The flood of memories come back.  This is a relationship I don’t know I will fully understand while in this life.
On my left knee, up a few inches and outwards is a scar I carry about an inch in length.  I still remember climbing over the industrial vacuum equipment and slicing it on the corner of duct sheet sitting there.  It was a deep cut and it bled nicely.  I didn’t have stitches but whenever I think of scars it is one of the two which first come to mind on my body.  I must have been only about 6.
I remember the morning I awoke with mom sitting on the bed.  It was downstairs at the old house along the freeway.  I was about 8.  Mom came to tell me that Grandma had found out about some things with Evan and that they would be getting a divorce.  I had no clue what that meant.  But he disappeared.  That is what divorce meant to me for several years.  The tone in which she told me was one of disappointment in Evan.  There were no harsh words of his character or personality which Mom would later spew about him.  I remember not understanding but feeling it would be okay because my Mother told me so.
I remember fishing many times with Evan as a young boy.  I don’t ever remember catching anything.  But it was fun to sit on the shore and fish.  I don’t even know that we ever really even talked.  The most common spots were fishing at the lake near Hwy 27/I84 and the lake near Hwy 30/I-84.  For all I know there are not even fish in those lakes.  I think they are man made.
It seemed a regular occasion we drove to the Paul Cemetery to maintain the long flower box seated on his parents grave.  I assume it is near the place where he and his wife Shirley are buried.  It was on those days I remember playing in the cemetery and enjoying the day.  I remember the day I stumbled on Wes Charles drunk next to a tombstone.  I knew him from Dad’s work and couldn’t understand why he was different.  I think that is the first time I realized people were different when they were drunk.  He was beside himself sobbing.  Evan explained to me that those stones were not just there for looks but were monuments to people who were buried beneath.  That was why Wes was upset, he presumably had family buried beneath.  I think this was my first introduction to understanding death.  Cemeteries horrified me afterward.  It wasn’t until my Great Grandmother’s funeral in 1987 that I saw a dead person and understood more of those people buried beneath the tombstones.  A large tombstone near the entrance of the Paul Cemetery became the image of my nightmares.  I have since made peace with death, but still the image of the large “Duff” tombstone seems to be the epitome of death for me.  It proclaimed the finality of death.  In later years learning the gospel and about the resurrection removed much of the nightmare, but it haunted me for a very long time.  I imagined in my mind the placing of a body into the ground and when nobody was around who remembered, as Evan regularly did, you were forever gone.  While Evan probably had no clue the effect of all this, he played a very real part of it.
There were many, many homes I went with Evan where he did sheetrock work.  Oddly, it is with Evan that I have my first memories of my Aunt Sergene.  We stopped at her and Bert’s place for something.
Growing up, Evan always seemed to be seated in the big leather chair in the family room at Grandma’s.  Somehow, I was oblivious, or he was just always good enough, that every time it seemed I passed the chair, usually at high speed, this arm would appear and scare the daylights out of me.  I guess he was just always in the chair enough that he became a part of the chair.  Perhaps it was such a rare thing he was in it that it scared me, I don’t know.  It was a good scare, not a bad scare.
Evan grew up in a home that was on the same property that Grandma’s house was.  I don’t remember the house standing, but I seem to remember the day it burned down.  The old barn out back of Grandma’s, the little tar paper shack, the hayrake were all part of what was once his childhood.  I felt a connection to it as he did.  I remember filling in what was left of the foundation years later and feeling the sadness of what passed with the house.  There was some debate that somebody burned it down, I don’t remember who was the one accused.  There were tombstones on the other side of the canal I remember Evan taking me to in the trees.  There was a tombstone there by the barn which would move around through the years.  I don’t know if they had anything to do with Evan’s ancestry, but he knew their location and felt enough to watch over them.
There were the occasional day when he would appear at our house along the freeway to visit.  Mother did not make him welcome from what I remember.  He longed to see us.  I always felt he favored “Sissy” over me but that was okay.  I knew he loved us.
I always remember keeping him at a distance.  I remember seeing Grandma crying a few times and she would tell me how much she felt betrayed and hurt by Evan.  Add that to Mom’s sharp denouncements and I locked my heart to him.  I remember one time seeing him at the house along the freeway and nobody was there but Andra and me.  We went up to him and Andra hugged him but I refused.  I remember the tears he shed that day.  I do not know if he understood what was in my heart and thoughts that day.  I have never been able to overcome that emotional block.  I do remember he came to visit less and less over the years.  Christmas and birthday cards were about all that remained.  He remarried about two years later to his highschool sweetheart.
Due to the nature of him leaving our lives I always called him Mr. E. E. in the present of Grandma and other family members.  Mother had other choice words.  I don’t remember Grandma being harsh on his memory, just more disappointed.
My next memory has him at my missionary farewell.  He came for all of the church service and gave me a monetary gift and said he was not staying to not cause concern with Grandma and the rest of my family.  I do not know if he stayed for the farewell or not.  I tend to think he did.  I do know he was there at my missionary homecoming two years later.  Grandma had passed away and he sat in the overflow section.  He lingered after the homecoming crowd of well wishers had dispersed and I walked him to his Buick in the north parking lot.  He had a cane at the time.  We visited for a moment and he shed some tears then.  He told me my Grandmother would be proud.  I don’t remember holding ill will, but a bit annoyed that he came to the homecoming.
Since that time we have kept in contact via mail.  We responded through letters several times a year until the past year it has increased in number.  Mostly because he collected spoons and I was a traveling maniac with Amanda.  We purchased spoons for him in nearly all the places we would go and would send them to him.  He repaid us for all of them.  I don’t know I would have done it just out of the kindness of my heart or at least so many.
Some time in 2004 Evan called me and told me he was heading to Salt Lake to a doctors appointment.  He knew I was spraying lawns for Larry and wanted to know if he swung through Cache Valley if we could do lunch.  I wasn’t particularly interested but was nice and agreed.  We ate lunch at a little Mexican Restaurant in Smithfield.  It was good food and we discussed just the lighter topics.  Nothing of too much interest other than the fact he brought me an envelope of pictures.  I had been mining him for information about Grandma and the family.  He had not been very forthcoming until this day.  I finally quit asking him about Grandma and asked him about him.  He brought photos and I took them and scanned them all for him.  He had very few pictures of him and Grandma, at least that he shared.  You will notice that I have added the Elliott Family Album to my pictures with Evan’s passing.  These are the photos that had only to do with him I kept copies of.
He did finally disclose information on how he met Grandma, some of their courtship, their leaving each other, and their activity in the church.  Some of which comments I believe I have even posted here on the blog.
In reflecting upon his death I have a variety of feelings.  I still feel a sense of betrayal and emotional blockade.  A distancing I maintain for reasons I do not understand nor would I know how to dismantle them.  There is also a pity or sadness I feel.  Evan always seemed like such a lonely soul.  I don’t believe he was depressed or anything like those types of feelings.  He was married three times I know of.  The first two ended in divorce.  The third one was his highschool sweetheart for which he had pictures of from that time.  He had no children.  Even in his death, it was a time before someone found him after his death.  In looking back I see a man longing for belonging and love and I feel some guilt for offering none more than friendship.  He loved us as his own children, he told us that many times.  I feel a sense of release in a commitment that seemed to be a burden.  I have no ill feelings for him and want to weep that I feel a release in his passing.  This doesn’t seem my nature to harbour what appears to be some malice or bondage to another.  I do not understand the array of feelings I feel with Evan’s death or in reflecting on what I know of his life.  I am not sure I will ever truly understand in this life.  I am saddened by his death though and that the relationship we have has been growing and increasing incrementally over the years since the mission.  Perhaps it is the loss of what could have been in the healing of our relationship.  That is certainly a brighter light to look at the scenario, the disappointment of my wanting to mend the broken bridges of the past.
Regardless, I have taken an inventory of my life to a degree.  Are there other people who I can do more in extending love and fellowship to?  Is this a tragedy?  Was he really lonely or my imposed desire for him to be lonely from the betrayal I felt of him in hurting Grandma?  He mentioned his fighting in Korea and how he still often thought of it.  What happened?  Does that explain some of the rest of his life?  I will not know in this life.
Who met him on the other side of the veil?  Has Grandma and him at any point met to bring any more reconciliation they did not find in mortality?  I sense tragedy in the life of Evan’s parents.  Were they present and are they all finding their ‘rest’ from mortal cares?  Tragedy seems somehow to be the word to describe Evan’s life to me.  Tragedy to me or to him?
As I survey the world around me I think how time marches on.  Each and every sand grain falls through the constricted glass.  Each is numbered and recognized in their place even though not every grain is noticed.  How much are our lives the same?  Some more recognized than others.  But each has our part, whether large or small.  “I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me.”