Reading some of the stories that are in the Story Collection in TellOurLifeStories.com shows a glimpse of family life across time and from the east to the west coast. The memories captured in the stories provide a window into other worlds and other viewpoints of family life.

One friend of mine, and a subscriber to TellOurLifeStores, Eleanor, had a father who was a writer. He faithfully kept journals of every year and wrote in them regularly. In those journals, you can see his journey through life. The journals reflect events and not emotions, however in those events and in the details that are described, you get a sense of who he was and how he felt overall, his beliefs, his values.

He grew up in Iowa and got a job after college as a Park Forrester in a national park in Sawyer's Bar California. Eleanor loaned me some of the journals so that I could take a further look.

In one entry he says, "Christmas Eve. I'm lonesome."

Another stands out in my mind.

October 11, 1936:

"Sunday. Sundays spent alone are depressing. I like to think of the Sundays when I was a boy. Breakfast a little later than usual. Dad alwyays went to the post office to sort mail. By the time he got back it was 9:30 or so and time to go to Sunday School. Then church which was usually well attended. Sometimes we were 'invited out' which was a big event because there were other kids to play with, a big meal with chicken, mashed potatoes, pie and dressing perhaps or creamed peas and carrots which was a standard dish. And could those Danish wives and mothers cook! I remember when we used to go to 'Uncle Carl's'. He lived about six miles from West Branch which was quite a trip - especially in the days when we drove the family surrey. Mama in the back with several kids and dad in front wielding the whip and holding the lines like a coachman to Queen Victoria herself.

Later than this I remember driving in one of the first Fords with brass radiator and acetylene lights. I was very young and took little space between Dad and the minister who owned and drove.

This reminiscing could go on indefinetely I suppose. Started a fire in my fireplace this evening for the first itme. I put too much wood in it and it's burning fiercely now. No way to shut off the draft. Anyways a snapping fire is a good tonic for 'that lonesome feeling.'"