Grandma Gilbert Rememberances

In Sunday School, Rick Armstrong, our Gospel Doctrine teacher, was discussing the importance of writing down our personal histories and the consistent use of a journal. He asked class members to share stories about ancestors and their written histories. Several mentioned about histories and journals written by their grandparents and how it brought them closer to them. While in this discussion, I reflected on how I came across Grandma Gilbert's diary. A big majority of the entries were just one or two word entries with most of them being "sewed." While going through the diary, I noticed that Grandma started the diary just prior to World War II. I then eagerly turned to Dec. 7 to see what she had written for that day since Uncle Keith was stationed at Pearl Harbor. Nothing was written. I looked for several weeks beyond that date to see if she had written anything about the day and her feelings. Again, nothing was there. It was a little disappointing. I sure wish she had written something.

However, some years prior to her death, our conversation turned to the attack on Pearl Harbor by the "Japs"--she always referred to the Japanese as "Japs" throughout our conversation. I asked if she was scared for Uncle Keith's life. Of course, she said she was. She said she was very nervous and upset. That evening, she had a neighbor call and asked if she would babysit for them. She said the name of her neighbor, but I cannot recall it. The neighbor had to be somewhere and needed a sitter. Grandma said she thought it would help her get her mind off of the attack so she said she would do it. She went to her neighbor's place, but her neighbor never left the house. She stayed with Grandma and talked to her and kept her busy so that she would not worry so much.

I asked her how she found out that Uncle Keith was OK. She said she got a letter a few weeks later and it was a big relief. However, the censors had cut out a lot of his letter so she said that really disappointed her. She also said that after a few weeks, she realized that if Uncle Keith had been killed, she probably would have known it by then, but still she worried for him.

After her passing, I had wished that I had written everything down that she had told me. Better yet, I wish I had a tape recorder to record the conversation. It was a special bonding moment for me, much like I imagine those who read the words of their passed ancestors bond to them.