Elsie Rebecca Groves is a sweet, sweet girl. Full of smiles and eyes that beg you to keep looking at her sweet self. She has started to babble back a bit, and I got a good breathy laugh out of her the other day when I kept quickly sticking my tongue out like a lizard. She is a joy.
So here's how Elsie got her name. First, her middle name is after...me. I had someone ask me that. Made me laugh. But here's the thing. My dad and brother share a middle name. My mom and sister share a middle name. And I, as the third child, did not share my middle name with anyone. This bothered me so that when we got our cat, Emily, when I was 9 or 10, I made sure everyone knew that Emily's middle name was Ann, just like me. I shared my middle name with the cat.
For Elsie, rather than Ann, I went with Rebecca. I liked how it sounded with Elsie. And this way Elsie also shares her middle name with two wonderful ladies: Svea Rebecca, my awesome niece who got in trouble today at daycare for being too silly during naptime entertaining the other kids, and Bailey Rebecca, my amazingly talented goddaughter who loves color and art just as much as I do. Elsie Rebecca is in great company sharing a middle name with these great ladies.
Her first name was chosen the day I read the following email from my Grandma. Annika had asked Grandma about sister Elsie and Grandma replied with this description of her sister. I loved that Elsie was a storyteller. (And by Grandma's retelling, it is obvious that Grandma, too, was a great storyteller.) I wasn't pregnant yet, but Rory and I were talking a lot about babies and names and the next season to come. After I read this email we decided on Elsie as our girls name.
I am going to copy and paste Grandma's exact email. I love how it reads in Grandma's voice.
My sister, Elsie was born in 1915, I, in 1918, we were considered four years apart? Floyd was in between us. She seemed much older than I. She was a great story teller. When our little brother Wayne appeared, he often slept with Elsie and I and she was always ready to tell stories. Her stories were fantastic. Little tiny people, only and inch and a half tall, that could live in an elephants ear, or a lions mane. They could climb trees, really bushes and hide from spiders and ants. She could make all kinds of sounds that no one else could say.
But I was a little jealous of her, it seemed she got to do the fun things, like sewing or baking and I had to do the dishes or dusting. She learned to make carmel rolls when she was about 13 and she sold them for 25cents a dozen to the ladies in town. When one lady said that was too much, Elsie quit. It cost more than that to bake them and deliver them—we were happy, then we got to eat them. All bread was home-made either rye or white buns.
One day I was given the task to make pie dough. I did get the flour and lard crumbled together but then I cried—this will never make pie dough. Elsie and Mother were sewing in the other room and Mom asked Elsie to go and rescue me. Elsie was very disgusted—all I had to do was add water. Bet that dough was tough.
Elsie’s first year of High School was spent in Dunnell. There she learned the most wonderful ability to wrap a package perfectly—square corners, perfect. I thought that was all she needed to know. Her second year she worked for her board and room at Brodts in Sherburn. For her third year, Uncle Fred thought she could go and live with his children in Fairmont and go to a much better school. He and Aunt Carrie had moved to a farm and the kids were to finish the year in Fairmont. Cousin Gladys was attending ‘Teachers college’ in Mankato and Elsie could ride heard on Arlin and Minnie who were younger till she got home each evening, Elsie spent her fourth year living with Dr. Zemkes , working for her board and room. They loved her rolls.
A little brother had been born that spring. And Elsie stayed at home to help Mother the next year. Then off she went to Swedish Hospital in the cities for nurses training. While there, the nurses had the privilege of attending parties for the men in training at Fort Snelling. What did she do but fall in love with one, named Charles Cash. She brought him to the farm to meet the family and ask for her hand. Of course Dad thought he was fine and said, yes. They spent that Christmas Eve with Phil and I at our home. Janice was a tiny baby. I remember laying there listening to an excited sister who couldn’t sleep for joy.
They were married that spring. Charles was an officer and they were sent to Kansas City for a year or so and then to California and to the south east part of the states. After the war they returned to Kansas City. Elsie and the boys spent many summers with the folks and us. Elsie was a great volunteer—in church, Cub scouts, after their two sons were grown she sewed many little dresses and shirts for the Needle Work Guild that were sent to needy children in other countries. Then she decided to go back to nursing—went for a refresher course and worked for many years at a hospital.
She and Chuck sold their home and moved to Arizona in the eighties. She was with us when Mother died in Venture Out the Christmas of ’84. They built a home in Sun City, Elsie fell while walking to the car, stumbling over the cement retainer and broke her hip. That soon healed, and I had the privilege of staying with her a week while she gained her strength back. We had such a good time—but-- her leukemia that had been in remission for a few years came back with a vengeance. She went to be with her Lord September 8, 1990
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To read how Ivar got his name, click here.
3 comments:
Thank you so much for posting this! Ever since I read the story of Ivar's name and knew you were going to name a girl Elsie, I have been waiting anxiously for this post. It's so neat to hear a different side of my grandma. She died when I was 9 so I don't have a lot of memories of her. Your Elsie is such a doll. Love seeing all the pictures of her.
Sweet, sweet story!! I especially liked that Elsie attended Swedish Hospital (like I did)!
I especially liked that Elsie.....and Marlene......attended Swedish Hospital (like I did!) What a sweet story of an amazing woman.
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