Cochran Family History and News – BlogCochran.com

This post has taken me far too long to compose–I don’t like splitting my focus at work and I avoid turning my computer on when I get home from work.  And, quite honestly, it’s an emotional subject and this blog will probably be a jumble because the memories aren’t necessarily linear.  But I shall proceed.

I always thought grandma was so pretty.  I had a paper doll (when I find it I’ll post a scan of it) when I was little that reminded me of her–dark curly hair and pretty eyes.  In my head, I called it my “grandma paper doll”.  I remember going into her room and giving her a kiss on the cheek when we visited.  She liked pretty things and would let me open her pink jewelry box and look at her jewelry when she was in there.  A favorite piece was a pink and purple rhinestone butterfly pin; after grandpa died and mom and her siblings went through grandma’s jewelry, mom chose that butterfly pin for me without remembering that I’d always liked it.  Holding it in my hand after being given some of grandma’s jewelry (and her pink jewelry box with blue velvet lining) brought back a lot of memories I’d forgotten–the smell of her room, her soft skin, the sunlight through the blue curtains while I admired that pin.  Her necklaces still smell like her lotion and perfume and, while I know it may eventually go away, I love opening that jewelry box and being reminded of her.

I also have three yards of her fabric, apple-green wool, that was found in the house after grandpa died.  I plan on making a suit to wear to the temple on the day I get married.  I think she’d approve.

She liked flowers and when it was spring and the violets came up in the yard, we’d pick handfuls of them to put in a cup and set on her dresser.  At her funeral, there were dozens of roses on her beautiful blue casket–red and pink roses that I think she would have liked.

I remember she had a walker with a red and white basket on it, and her recliner had extra cushions to help her be more comfortable.  It was always a rare treat to sit in her chair while she was in the bedroom, and I always asked if I could.  At dinner, she’d have a glass of cranberry juice and a lot of pills.  Grandpa would help her cut her meat because she couldn’t hold her silverware normally anymore.  I know she must have been in a lot of pain, but she seemed so patient.  If she needed anything, like help getting out of bed or something to drink, she’d call for my grandpa by asking, “dear, could you help me?”  I always liked that.  Later, when she was confined to a wheelchair, grandpa built a ramp to the house (years after he had the steps made wider and shallower and added a railing) to make things easier.  She had to wear orthopedic shoes–the sole and heel of one of the shoes had to be made higher than the other because her legs weren’t the same length.  Mom once said that grandma hated those orthopedic shoes and always liked pretty shoes, so when I buy pretty shoes I imagine that grandma would have approved.

When I learned about her courtship and engagement, I admired her even more.  It must have been so hard and frightening to be that young and engaged to someone she loved very deeply but might never see again.  Her faith and fortitude during those years is inspiring, as is her faith and fortitude through many years of illness.  I always knew she and grandpa loved each other very much.  They were always very respectful and considerate of one another.  Grandpa would take her to get her hair done and she always thanked him for helping her.

Laresa already talked about the Christmas presents–I remember grandpa saying that he came out of one of the little dress shops with an armload of little fluffy dresses over his shoulder and grandma smiling while he spoke.  They gave me two pairs of porcelain rose earrings that are very special to me and tried to come to every birthday when we lived in Orem.  She didn’t always feel well, but she tried to come.  She liked to pet all our cats, but Bullwinkle was “the pretty one” and probably her favorite.  She’d have loved Branwen.  Grandpa and grandma had two cats when I was little, Guff and Tai.  Tai was almost always scared of people and would hide in grandma’s room or in the cellar, but she wasn’t scared of grandma.  Pepper the dog loved her too.

This is very personal, but I think it’s important to add:  Shortly after she died, I had a dream that I was on the edge of a beautiful green meadow.  Everything was light and perfect, and as I watched, I saw grandma and Deanna walking and running through that meadow with Sammy and Pepper–whole and beautiful and perfect like the meadow.  I think of her a lot.  Every time I wear red lipstick or pretty shoes or her jewelry, I’m reminded of how pretty she was.  I want to be as gentle as she was.  I miss her very much but I’m glad she’s not in pain anymore and that she and grandpa are together.

This came up while Heidi and I were talking the other night.  What quirky little memories of school do you have?  Did you ever have to do strange things?  Was there a particularly strange kid?  Were you that kid?  In what ways were teachers innovative? Or not?

Basically, what were some of the funny little moments of school?

I certainly wish I remembered Grandma better; she died just before my twelfth birthday.  But everything I do remember, aside from the sickness, is good.  I remember thinking that my grandmother was very pretty, always neat and always careful about looking nice, even though I know she didn’t feel well.  She, in my mind, loved pretty girl things and I know that several of my best dolls came from her and Grandpa.  The prettiest doll I ever had was from them, a smallish baby doll with a blue satin and lace dress.  It was given to me at one of the big family Christmas parties we used to have.  I was so pleased with that doll, and now, as I look back on it, I’m even more pleased because I know the thought that went into it.  That doll was just right for me.

Around the time I got my second bike, when I was six, I remember really wanting a bike basket.  You would think I would have been content with my purple-rainbow-unicorn-Pegasus bike with streamers, but it needed something more.  Mom can correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember Grandma needed a new basket for the walker she used and she gave me the old one, complete with fantastic plastic flowers, to go on my bike.  I don’t think I understood how strongly grandparents feel for their grandchildren until I saw my parents interacting with theirs.  This basket is a good example of grandparental affection, in my mind; the kind of small token that costs very little but means a lot.

Grandma and Grandpa Baggs visited us down in the far-off wastes of Orem as often as they could.  Grandma’s willingness to travel is another example of grandparental affection.  It can’t have been easy to transfer to and from the wheelchair and endure the drive from Ogden to Orem, but she came anyway.  I’m sure we were weird little show-off kids, at least if home movies are any evidence, but they tolerated us with good humor.  Grandma liked all of our cats, but I know that she loved old Bullwinkle.  For all his seasonal scrounginess, she always called him “the pretty cat” and wanted to see him and pet him.

Grandma always had a nice voice.  I remember it as being very pretty and sweet.  I think she must have been the kind of person who inspired love and kindness.  I certainly love her better as I look back on the small things I remember her doing for me; I wish I could have known her better, but perhaps I can see her best (as well as Grandpa) in the way my own mother turned out.  Her compassion and kindness, especially toward her family, cause me to want to improve.  I’m grateful for the qualities that were passed down from my grandmother and hope to live up to them in my own life.

Memories are interesting. Sometimes you want something specific and can’t remember and other times they just come to you as you go about your day. Her parents named her Marie Rose Barnes but I know she was called Rose most of the time.

In a v-mail letter from Dad to her during the War, he calls her Rosalie and Kitten.

Bishop Chidester called her “Roses”. She loved her husband, children and grandchildren. She was careful in her grooming and dress; always neat. House dresses were the normal attire and she wore them with tennis shoes and white anklet socks. Sundays and going out were times for nicer dresses and suits; she liked to wear shoes with heels.

She washed her 3 daughters’ hair and rolled it in curlers Saturday night to be ready for Sunday. I didn’t like my hair done and sometimes it was tangled. I probably cried or fussed when she combed it. sometimes Dad would comb the tangles from mine while she fixed my sisters’ hair. Her favorite color was blue.

She liked cats and dogs. She had a dog named  Pal when she was about eight years old. She was probably nine or ten when she had Mickey and Mindy, both black kitties; a teenager when she had Tiger, who was striped and Fluffy who was a white long-haired cat when she graduated from high school.

                         Fluffy

One memory is very clear except I can’t remember how old I was. I might have been about 5. We were in the back bedroom, which at the time was the width of the house and we three girls slept and played there. The linoleum was red and yellow. Mom was sitting on one of the wooden chairs that went with the little table and chair set. We were sorting and picking up toys; just the two of us. There was a little hole in the linoleum.

We used to play Jacks on the kitchen floor. She was good! We sat on the linoleum and bounced the ball and picked up the jacks starting with onesies and going all the way up to ten. She was very patient when I had to chase the ball because I bounced it on the jacks or didn’t catch it after the first bounce. We cut out paper dolls together; she helped with the tricky cuts because I was too impatient with the scissors.

I often had bad dreams; nightmares and would cry out in my sleep, wakening to her calling my name. She would sit on the bed and talk to me and help me calm down. As I got older I became more aware of letting others sleep and would turn on my lamp and read the Book of Mormon until I could go back to sleep. She would see my light and come to see if I was alright. Only after many years did I realize that she must have been awake because she couldn’t sleep and was probably in pain and sick.

She taught me to cross-stitch and other embroidery stitches when I was eight or nine. When I learned to crochet at age 11, she was not able to help me much so Grandma Barnes taught me. When she began to lose the feeling in her hands, she took up fabric embroidery painting and hoped that would help her hands. She crocheted edges on pillow cases, dresser scarves, handkerchiefs and other things. She embroidered those same items and even began knitting a blue sweater for Dad. We think she didn’t finish it because he was allergic to wool. I don’t remember seeing her knit, but I do remember the embroidering, crocheting, though not as much and sewing.

She liked to sew and had been sewing since she was a girl. She and her friend, Fern Peterson, made their high school baccalaureate dresses for graduation. Mom’s was a turquoise blue dress with a white collar. Her formal was a pale blue. I appreciate the description she put on the back of these pictures before she mailed them to Dad during the War. She made baby clothes, dresses, pajamas, aprons and even a white fur muff and mitten set for Cherie and I one Christmas. On year all the girls received aprons which had our names machine-embroidered on them. One Christmas we each received a pajama bag in the shape of a Panda-bear head. There is a picture of one our cousins holding one; I don’t know how many she made. It was fun to put our pajamas away in the pajama bag instead of our drawer each morning.

I believe the death of her older brother, Lloyd, at the age of seven, when she was only four may be the main reason her parents were very protective of her as a child. She wasn’t the healthiest child and that kept her indoors much of the time.  When they visited Milton, Utah, where her mother’s family lived, she could run around and play with her cousins outside.

Some favorite foods that I remember she liked: tapioca pudding, rice pudding, roast beef dinners, corn on the cob and chicken on the grill made by Dad, Farr’s banana nut ice cream. She made lemon meringue pie for Dad’s birthday and canned fruit every summer.

Dad always had clean and pressed shirts for work and church assignments. Mom made sure his National Guard and Army Reserve uniforms were ironed and ready for him. She was an example of support and patience while Dad served in many callings and was away from home for meetings and Scout outings.

When the grandchildren came along, there was one girl after another for the first four. She enjoyed buying dresses and slips for their birthdays and for Christmas. When her first grandson was born, he too received nice clothes for church, even a suit when he was three years old. When she could no longer do the shopping for her grandchildren’s birthdays and Christmas, she sent Dad. He once said that he just got what she told him to.

Neta and I were taking care of her when Dad went to the hospital for heart by-pass surgery in May 1992. She had been sick and we were afraid she was getting dehydrated. Neta was trying to reach her doctor by phone and couldn’t get the help we needed. We knew she was getting worse and were talking about what to do next, when from her bed we heard her say, “Could we say a prayer?” Of course we prayed. That was a lesson to me.

google search for Deane Baggs found this article: "Ogden Bridal Pairs in December Spotlight"
Deseret News, December 29, 1945 page 9:
Making their home in Ogden are Mr. & Mrs. Deane W. Baggs. They were married recently in the Salt Lake Temple.
The bride, the former Miss Rose Marie Barnes, is a daughter of Mr. & Mrs. Cleve Barnes of Ogden, and Mr. Baggs is a son of Mrs. Ethel B. Clark, also of Ogden.
A reception was held for the couple at the Twenty-first Ward. The bride wore a white satin and marquisette gown and a veil caught with seed pearls. Her bouquet was composed of red roses and white carnations. The couple were attended by Mr. & Mrs. Andrew C. Baggs.
Mrs. Clark, the mother of the bridegroom, entertained at a wedding dinner in Salt Lake City following the ceremony. Miss Fern Peterson and Miss Veda Miller were among those who entertained for the bride prior to her marriage.
Mr. Baggs was recently released from the air corps after serving for 33 months in the European theater of war.

That’s the sad thing.  I know Grandpa loved her very much, and knowing and honoring my grandfather the way I do, that leads me to think she must have been a great woman.  Grandma was always sick, and like most kids, I was shy about that. 

I remember a tow truck Grandma and Grandpa got for me.  I associate that more with Grandma Baggs, because I remember showing her how it worked.  I don’t remember the place for sure; maybe Linford’s.  I believe Mom still has it; it’s the large blue one with the crank.

I remember showing off my cat.  I remember all of us playing our instruments for Grandma too.

I remember her in a walker, then in a wheelchair.  She was at too many birthdays and other family events to remember them all, even as she became more ill.  She was always willing to come, and Grandpa was always there to bring her.  I’m sure we were exhausting sometimes.  Kids can be noisy and inconsiderate.

Sometimes I look at the picture below and think about that young marriage.  One of the hard facts of life is that everything wears out as life advances.  I say hard, but I think really it’s designed that way; as our cars, homes, clothes, and bodies wear out, we can, if our eyes are opened, turn towards our Savior.  There’s a realm beyond this life, outside time, where we’ve been promised we’ll have new bodies and our families will be together forever.  That’s why at Easter I feel more in the spirit of family history.  I can feel my family out there, this great and glorious bunch of Saints, all bound to each other by our own love and by the love of Jesus Christ.  When I get there, my faith assures me of a chance to make up for lost time.  My Grandma and I will sit down together and talk.

Grandma Baggs is our first family history topic.  Mom and her sisters are writing a history of Grandma for the next Baggs Family Reunion.  Mom would like our input and our memories.  Also, Grandma Baggs is the grandparent I have the fewest memories of, and I would really like to know more about her (this is pointed at you, Mom and Dad ).  So, get cracking and post your recollections by next Sunday.  We’ll work on the guidelines and amount of posts as we go, but let’s at least start well.

I propose that we explore one topic a week to start and expand if possible.  I would like to post the new topic each Sunday, when we hopefully have a little contemplation time, and then we would each have the remainder of the week to post.  My hope is that the gentle peer pressure of everyone getting something posted, as well as a desire to record our memories (of course) will be enough to keep the project motivated.  I am also excited for Zach and Dad’s plans to post genealogical information; I think any documented histories we have from either side should be posted as well, although the topical posts will focus on more immediate family concerns.

Salutations!