A Bloy and his Blog

My sister Barbra and my father Wil. Taken on Thanksgiving Day at Mondovi, Wisconsin.

Taken at a small family gathering yesterday. From left to right, Wil Bloy, myself, Chris Davis (née Bloy), Barbra Bloy, Steve Bloy.

The main reason Dad and I decided to go to Tennessee a few weeks ago was to attend the 80th birthday party of his cousin Jim (Happy Birthday Jim!). While we were at the party we also visited with Dad’s cousins Ruth and Janette, and their families.

Pictured here are four Bloy cousins. From left to right: James Bloy, Wilmer Bloy, Janette McCormick (née Bloy) and Ruth Zeppelin (née Bloy).

Yesterday I realized I didn’t post any pictures of Dad (Wilmer Bloy) or myself on our trip.

read the rest of: Dad and me in the Smokies

My father and I just returned from a trip to Tennessee, where we spent most of our time in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

When you drive through the park, it’s difficult to keep your eyes on the road as scenic views emerge.
read the rest of: Smoky Mountains, day one

We had the committal service for my mother, Allegra Bloy, today. One of the most vivid memories I have of my grandmother’s funeral, was when Mom put a flower into her mother’s grave. At the end of today’s ceremony all of us put a flower into the grave where the urn that holds her ashes rests. The beauty of flowers was something that Mom enjoyed very much. She would often write a comment here on the blog when I posted flower pictures.

So in honor of Mom, here are some shots of flowers I took recently.

read the rest of: Flowers for Mom

You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back, or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her, or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she’s gone, or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back, or you can do what she’d want:

Smile, open your eyes, love and live on.

     - anonymous, some attribute it to Charles Henry Brent.

read the rest of: Allegra “Lee” Bloy 1929-2008