Wayback Wednesday

my mom and me

My mom and me at 5

I was scrolling through my Flickr stream and noticed these two photos side by side. It is the first time I really compared photos of myself and my mom at the same age. I thought I would throw together a diptych of them for today’s Wayback Wednesday post.

We are both around 5 years old in our portraits.

Wayback Wednesday


Mikey Jones is on the left.

An old acquaintance from my born-again Christian days died last week of a drug overdose. Good old Mike Jones. He was a punky little skate boarder.  I had forgotten about him and I am sure he forgot about me, as well. But this past weekend I ran across this picture I took of him the day he was baptized. He had a great smile.

Last week was hard. Again, I was reminded of how short our lives are and how death can come and take us away in any way it sees fit. This will always and forever be a hard lesson for me: the impermanence of life. The word “impermanence” eludes me. As I was typing that sentence I had a hard time thinking of that word. It’s as if I am trying to deny that this is a thing that exists. It is a lesson that is sometimes too painful to endure.

Which leads me to the other thing that I have had to deal with and thoughts about  it. I am not going to go into detail about that other thing because it is not something that is personal to me. It is something that is happening to someone I care about. However, watching this person go through it has made me realize something about myself. I think it is harder for me to see people I love go through pain than it is for me to endure pain personally. Or maybe the two things are equally as painful. But I don’t know. Watching my loved ones go through things is really, really hard for me. For example, the thing that hurts me the most about watching Doug die is having to watch my mom’s heart break as she said goodbye to her soul mate. I can’t even write that sentence without sobbing, four years later. Watching her say goodbye to him is the most painful part of that memory for me.

I don’t know why I am thinking about this today. This is just an observation about myself. Thinking out loud I guess. I don’t really want to be tested in this theory again any time soon, though. I am ready for happier times.

Wayback Wednesday


Apparently my grandpa owned a plane..

I scanned a truckload of old photos when my mom was here last weekend and this is one of them. Apparently, my Grandpa Ed owned an airplane and this is it. He didn’t know how to fly it. My mom says that my grandmother was MAD when he brought it home and it sat in their yard for years and years. This story makes me laugh. I love that my grandpa impulsively bought an airplane. I wonder what he was thinking?


Wayback Wednesday



Here we are, again, with my Granny Mary’s side of the family. This is Will Boucher, my grandmother’s father. I mentioned him a couple of weeks ago. Remember how I talked a little bit about how I thought his death was not accidental? .I had a conversation with my cousin this past weekend who is quite a bit older than me and had conversations with these people while they were still alive. He remembers my great grandmother telling him that her husband was murdered. It was made to look like an accident, apparently, and there was nothing that my great grandmother could do about it.

Will is the one standing on the left. His brother, on the right, is Joseph. Mary Hebert (pronounced A-Bear) is their mother and is sitting in front. Amable Boucher is their father and is in the picture on the stand.

Wayback Wednesday



I mentioned Ben Chainey last week when I was talking about my Great Grandma Laura. Here is a photo of him. He is my Great-Great Grandfather. I see my older brother and my niece in his face.

I also think he has the kindest eyes. Just looking at this picture, I can tell he was a good soul. I wish I could meet him.

He owned a shop in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho way back in the olden days when the town was first starting out.

I have something that was his. An old button tin. It originally was a cigar tin that belong to Ben Chainey. Eventually it turned into a button tin used by my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother, and now me. It is probably the oldest thing I own.