Joy in Town

A lot has been going on here since I last wrote, a couple of weeks ago.  Since then I have been doing the HTML coding for the final chapter of my Latin American history project, and I estimate I am just past the halfway mark on that, so it should be up on The Xenophile Historian by mid-November.  Nevertheless, I figured I should take a break from that to bring readers up to date on other events.

For Halloween, there were quite a few kids trick-or-treating in the neighborhood.  However, plenty of rain and two cold fronts made it so cold and wet, that they wore raincoats or carried umbrellas over their costumes.  When our parrot Brin-Brin heard them, he started growling, so Leive turned off the lights and pretended nobody was home.

Next, the first freeze of the season came a bit early.  The temperature dropped to 32 degrees Saturday morning, and 27 this morning.  Yesterday there were a few snowflakes, too.  And the amount of leaves in the road is incredible; on our street it looks like the rainstorm knocked at least half the leaves off the surrounding trees.

The biggest news is that Leive’s half-brother, Joy Bendoy, came to visit (hence the title).  Leive hasn’t seen him in at least thirty years; he wasn’t at our wedding, for instance.  Like most of Leive’s family, he is a pastor in the Philippines, and was touring the United States on a fund-raising trip for his ministry, when Leive’s niece Rezia invited him here.  He was here from October 22 to 26, and stayed with Gene and Rezia most of the time, but we had dinner with him in Leive’s favorite Chinese place on the 23rd, spoke for an hour at our church on the 25th, and finally spent the afternoon at our house on the 26th.  Here’s a picture Rezia took of him, at the Lexington Convention Center.


And here is Joy with Leive in our basement:


Finally, last week my brother solved a mystery in the family that is almost 60 years old.  While I knew my mother’s parents well, I never met my paternal grandparents.  My father’s father died of tuberculosis back in 1940, while his mother remarried and disappeared in 1955; both events happened long before I was born.  None of us ever heard from our grandmother again; I don’t think she even attended my parents’ wedding.  Well, my brother has gotten good at finding genealogical records, and he obtained our grandmother’s (re)marriage certificate; it turns out they moved to Gulfport, Mississippi.  There’s another surprise; I didn’t know I had any relatives in that state!  Then following the assumption that they spent the rest of their lives there, he tracked down their obituaries and death certificates.  It turns out the grandmother I never knew succumbed to lung cancer in 1968, and her husband passed away shortly after that, in 1969.  Finally, to end the story, they are buried in unmarked graves, in a country cemetery just north of Biloxi.  Well, you never know what you’ll find when you uncover your roots.

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