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A note about how Norwegians got their names

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Three Sisters

Raised in a loving home. We are what we are today because of our parents. We owe them so much. They raised us in love, they wanted only the best for us - and they gave us that in a wonderful and happy environment of wide open, big skies, mountains and all that brought with it to enrich our lives. They really had faith - in life, in us. They lived it and practiced it and did their best to pass it on to us.  Hey, nobody said life was easy. But life has been made so much better because of what we have to draw on from  - from our childhood and from each other.

Three generations of women:
Wife, mother-in-law, and daughter
Our dad, the gymnast, did all he could to move us in that direction. She could make us smile. OK, she was admittedly  good at giving us The Look, too...
Fishing with Gramma Sissel Two Sisters
Christmas 1949
On the way to Yellowstone with Grampa Ole
"It's all Ole's fault."
She really wanted to be TARZAN The ' 52 Plymouth and the stylish
Little Lady of Shady Lane.
Two Sisters
"I love having my picture taken for Christmas cards!"
(just wait a couple of years. :-)
The Performing Backyard Circus
A money maker ($4.35) for charity - brainchild of the Queen
And then there we finally were - together at last:
the three of us.
Morris' girls
Three Sisters Two Sisters "It's ok. Don't cry. I'll help you."
Easter 1954 Two Sisters "This is so fun to play school. I love playing teacher. If you'll just listen, you'll learn so much from me!"
"I am Davy Crockett. I AM Davy Crockett."
Summer dresses made by Susan Camping yet again
Two Sisters
"Hang on. I won't lose you!"
She didn't choose that t-shirt herself. Honest.

Unfortunately, we didn't get to know Paul and Ingrid Crum too well. Paul retired to a small, log cabin in the woods of Montana and a hermit's life. We visited him only once that I know of. But I do remember the visit - even as young as I was. It was very special and I am so glad Mom took us to meet him. Ingrid went to California to be with her youngest daughter, Betty, who needed her. I first met Ingrid just before she died. But I met her. And I am glad I did, even though she was no longer Mom's mom.

The memories I have more of are visiting Paul's grave in the military cemetery at Custer National Battle Field. It was his choice for his burial site and is an amazing place. With tales to tell. As was he.

If only I had known to ask way back then.

We did get to know Ole and Sissel very well. We visited them at least once a year and they came through once a year on their way to camping in Yellowstone Park. Or they took the three of us, their Montana grandchildren, to Yellowstone Park for short vacations. We learned a lot from them: how to speak English with a flawless, heavy Norwegian accent, how to garden (though this was something we apparently all absorbed from rather than were taught by Ole), how to make 7-Up Floats, how to giggle, and, by example, how not to drive down the middle of the road centering on the middle divider line. Stoic Norwegians and very good people. Ole, however, was more stoic than Sissel: she loved to laugh and sing and bake. And she was so happy to have grand-daughters after raising two boys.

And now we've grown and live in separate corners of the world...

...and have families of our own. But you know what?
The bond is still there. It always will be: Sisters Three

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