Friday, December 16, 2022

 

Catch a Falling Star

Almost seventy years ago, the song “Catch a Falling Star and put it in your pocket.” It was a catchy little ditty that was sung by many artists. In 1958, one of the most prominent artists to release it was Perry Como. His crooning voice made the song a hit.

I have no idea what its actual meaning is, but for myself it means to capture moments in time before they fall away into obscurity. Like meteors that streak brightly across the dark night sky, memories flare intensely for a moment before they begin to fade and finally disappear. So many things that my dad, Carl Beck and my mom Sybil Miner Beck have said or done have now slipped into dark crevices and may never be recalled again. Many stories of my grandparents Edson and Anna Kalp Beck and Ray and Rebecca Rugg Miner have been lost to my recollection. Sometimes someone will breathe on the embers of a memory and I can quickly fan it into q flame. When that occurs, I horridly write about it in my BlogSpot. I try to recall as many of the facts from the incident before it dies completely. Sometimes it’s not entirely accurate and another relative will furnish more facts. I will go back and correct the mistake or expand the scope of the story.

I wish that I would have paid closer attention to the details passed down in an oral tradition. It’s a struggle to record pieces of my heritage and pass it on so my children and grandchildren will have them. I don’t have the patience or the ability to do the research of the genealogy of our family, like some do. I let that task to others. To me, that path is dry and dusty. I try to remove the cobwebs of a family’s history and add flesh to skeletons of the past. I like to stir family histories and make the readings of them more interesting and complete.

Catching a falling star is what I am attempting to do. I want to create a verbal picture to share the beauty, the sadness, and the joy of our family’s past. I share some of my own stories of my life from the time of my youth, through school, enlistment in the Navy, college, and days of work. Not too long ago I shared a story that I hadn’t shared with my children. They were surprised to hear that when I was in the Navy my “friends” planned to kill me thinking I was a snitch.

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