~ The pieces are all sewn together, stitched with love.........and a quilt tells a story and the story is our past ~
The Arrowood family immigrated from England to Maryland in the 1700's. They went south, eventually settling in the mountains of North Carolina. Later , some went further south, into the Piedmont of North Carolina, in search of work and a better way of life.
I am in search of my family.
I search for those that came before me, and lived their lives as best they could. I am in search of their stories, how they lived, and how they loved.
I shared this love of seeking the past with my Dad, sharing each new finding with him, the thrill in his heart intermingling with mine. I continue this search in his honor, and hope to know these people of ours when I join up with them all in heaven.
~ Steve Lewis Arrowood 1932-2008 ~
Come with me, back to a simpler time and place. A place far removed from the hectic pace of today. To a time when life was hard, but the rewards were great. When your quality of life was determined by your own sweat, your own toil, and your own ingenuity.
Would you like a glass of sweet tea? Let's sit out on the porch where we will catch the sweetly scented breeze of summertime. Maybe Grandma will fry up some of her wonderful chicken... Time slows here.
"We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind."
~You live as long as you are remembered.~
"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. " Author: Unknown
"But those who came before us will teach you. They will teach you from the wisdom of former generations."
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
I had heard about a cemetery that is situated up high on a knoll, nestled between the rolling ridges that are called the Roan. Up in the Roan Valley, this is a place of pure beauty. I was captivated at my first glimpse. I am forever hooked.
I will let my mind wander, back to a place where the air is sweetened by wildflowers and the birds with wide wings soar effortlessly, silent and free, overhead.
I will let my mind wander 'back to the Roan'.
We drove up from the town of Bakersville and followed the directions onto a side road that looked more like a gravel drive than an actual road. We wound our way, around the houses and horse pastures. and onto a grassy lane, between the fences.
In this cemetery are souls long passed, Civil War soldiers, and more recently departed as well.
I could find no surnames that tie in directly to our line, but there just about has to be connections somehow, someway, to our family. I think I will adopt them all anyway. Grin.