Remembering our loved ones on Memorial Day...

"Taps" Beautiful Yet Melancholy
Taps was first played during the Civil War. It was written by Union Brig. Gen. Daniel Butterfield in July 1862. For great info about Memorial Day go to kimcommando.com Cool Site of the Day for May 25, 2009.

On this Memorial Day, I remember my Daddy - Arnold G. Albertson 8 Dec 1912 to 6 Feb 1982, passing away at age 69 of colon cancer. He was a wonderful father and I miss him.
We are sorry that we not not have photos of our other loved ones mentioned in this entry. My computer crashed in March and I've lost my stored photos.
We are thankful for the legacy we have from our parents and grandparents and pray we will carry on and pass on the heritage they have given us of "roots" in the Savior, Jesus Christ and to follow his Prophets, and "wings" to fly with a testimony of all these truths of the Gospel restored by the Prophet Joseph Smith and having the Priesthood with its temple ordinances which promise--if we fulfill our covenants--to be families forever!

We, Janie & Shawn's, Gary & Kathy's families gathered at Grama A's home in Gooding for Memorial Day 2001 to place flowers on the graves, as we do each year.
We are sad that Grama A, who has been a widow for 27 years, is not able to live alone any longer and needs to leave her beloved home. My sister, Janice, is helping her become established in a nice, cozy apartment at the Highland Cove retirement center in Salt Lake City, near Janice's home. Mom is currently in the independent living section, with meals and other amenitites provided.
I am so thankful for all my sister is doing to help Mom resettle when we are so far away. We pray Mom may accept this change and realize that she needs to have some help now at her 89 years of age, with dimished eye sight, dimished hearing, and her fragile state.
She is thankful to David for his checking her eyes and having the glaucoma specialist at his Rocky Mountain Eye Care do the corrective laser surgery to relieve the dangerously high pressure. She is thankful for all the visits from Utah family and friends to see her at Highland Cove.
She is thankful for Janie & Shawn, Daniel, Katie, Heidi, Sam, Ashley, and Michael working hard for 3 hours on Saturday to help Aunt Jan bring everything up out of her basement. However, now she is having a hard time leaving her home again after Janice has taken her to Gooding to help decorate the graves this weekend.
As Grama A keeps telling us: "Getting old isn't for wimps!"

In the Wendell Cemetery we remember, with reverence and love, Walt's parents, Ray & Jane Petersen; his grandparents, Andrew & Nellie Kate Petersen, Byrum "Bide" and Maria "Rie" Prescot; his sister, Bonnie; Eileen's father Arnold G. Albertson, and grandparents, David "Dave" and Ella Huffaker; plus aunts, uncles, cousins, step father, step grandmother, g-nephew, other relatives, and many, many ward family friends. In the Hagerman Cemetery my grandmother Blanch Ilene Albertson is buried by two of her four sons, and two grandsons. In the Albion Cemetery my grandfather Clarence Albertson is buried, along with his parents, and other Albertson family members who helped homestead the Albion Basin. They were leaders in the R-LDS Church there.

Everyone helps clean the head stones, then we all place the flowers on the grave. "I want to be buried in the Wendell Cemetery because I know people will come and put flowers on my grave," Julie said when she was a young girl.

This is an annual family gathering to put flowers on our loved one's graves at the Wendell, Hagerman, and Albion Cemeteries.

In memory of our Service men and women who helped and currently help keep our country strong and free. My Uncle David was one of them.

Mom's brother, my Uncle David Huffaker, a mischiveous, fun-loving tease, was a pilot in World War II. Until he was sent overseas from his base in California, when he had leave he would come to stay with us in Long Beach, California, where my Daddy worked in the ship yards. (My Dad was not accepted into the service because he had flat feet.) Uncle David was a pilot who ferried new planes from the USA to whatever country needed them for our Air Forces. He brought my Grama Huffaker a miniature of the Taj Mahal from India, and my grandparents had a framed photo of him in their farm home with him in his uniform on a camel in Egypt by the pyramids. He survived the War, and passed away in 1997; his widow Enid just passed away last month. Their graves are near my Daddy's grave, and our plots in the Wendell Cemetery.