Dunham Family and My Stroke Story!

I have not updated my blog for several weeks. “Life” gets in the way. “Life.” Sometimes, “life” is just a word. The text book definition of “life” is “ the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.” I am so grateful for my life. This time of year should be a celebration of life. Yet, I am having trouble being merry because of a sense of loss I feel. Today, I drove around Boise just to “feel.” It is a wonderful winter day, with bright sunshine. I have so much to be thankful for. I look at my son's happy face with his dog, and I am in my happy place. 5 years ago, I was wrapping Christmas presents when my first signs of the ominous and impending strokes that happened in January of 2012. It has been five years of struggle and wondrous joy. Nevertheless, the  fatalistic nature of my soul still gives me pause. I try not to dwell

My Great Grandfather Martin Ludvig Robertson was born December 14, 1871 in Stensvig, Norway. He arrived from the USA in 1891. He moved to Kalispell, Montana, married, and started his family. In 1908, he built this house north of Kalispell.  My grandmother Agnes is the little blond girl on the right in the photo. Martin died January 8, 1937. My great grandparents farm is now the site of the Flathead Community College. It seems fitting -- or not! -- that his Great Grandson (ME) is the new chair of the College of Western Idaho. I often think about my ancestors who struggled for generations to build a better life for their descendants. We are all so lucky.