My great-grandmother, Georgeanna Hargett Bruchey, was born 9 February 1863. She died in 1893 – just over a week past her 30th birthday.
Her son, my grandfather, passed away on 6 February 1959, and was buried on 9 February.
A grandson, my Uncle John, was killed in a car accident on 9 February 1946. He was 21 years old, and had been married just a week earlier.
One of her granddaughters, my Aunt Carrie, died on 6 February 1961. Her funeral was supposed to be on 9 February, but it was delayed until the 10th because of weather.
I don’t know if it is because of my family history research, or just because of my interest in the historical connections to dates. I have always been fascinated by the significance of those two dates in my family’s history.
Three generations. Of the four people, two were gone before I was born. I have only a few memories of my grandfather and Aunt Carrie.
Yet there is that connection, across the generations, that I remember every February.
Sandi
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