Needlesstosay

I’m going to say something, something that seems not needed to be said,

a needlesstosay,

but I’m going to say it anyways, so you know and so I know, for our benefit.
In the past I have discussed many topics on this blog. I have written about marriage, genealogy, moosen, religion, fears, weaknesses, and shortcomings in faith, motherhood, and domestic skills that are close to godliness.
But there comes a time when every blogger needs to draw a line when typing.

This is me drawing the line.

I will not be publishing any post about Emma’s delivery or funeral service. Why? In the eloquent words of someone I blog stalk, regarding her own daughter’s funeral,

“because the events were far too special and sacred
to be written on anything called a blog…"

Don’t misunderstand me. I will be recording these experiences, just not for the general public.
I feel driven to record and preserve this journey for other generations. Genealogy has been a great comfort to our family during these events, in several ways. For one, since no one in my immediate family has suffered a miscarriage or stillbirth, it was comforting to be able to identity with my grandmother Kappes, and great, great grandmother Peterson, who both endured losing children. Drawing from stories my father had told me and census records, I established a bond with my foremothers over tragedy and hope.
Several instances, I have wished I could talk to my grandmothers or read their thoughts.
Whenever I instruct about personal history, I always prompt, “If you could interview an ancestor right now, what would you want to know?” Your answers are what you should be writing about for future generations RIGHT NOW.
Practicing what I preach, here. Just not here, in blogdom.

Thank you again, for everything, and especially for reading. I have a special reader out there that doesn’t comment, and I just want her to know the unwritten comments are often the best. : )

Soon I will be posting an actual full-fledged Angela post. Soon.
Sooner than later. Maybe this week.

PS My mailbox is still hungry. : (
Begin the Deseret Book boycott now.