Three Generations

Ever since I moved here two and a half years ago, I've been meaning to sit down with my grandparents and interview them on camera about their parents, their own lives, and my parents. Then both of my grandfathers died, and I lost that opportunity forever, something I still regret. The impending deadline of moving away for graduate school finally prompted me to action, and these last two Mondays I've taken my camera over to my mom's mother's house to interview her.

Last week didn't go too well, simply because I neglected to make sure my camera battery was charged. I still managed to get about twenty minutes of interview time, though, mostly about how my grandmother's parents met and a little bit about my great-grandparents. I had just started asking her about her mission when she began to feel ill and our session was cut short.

This week I remembered to charge my battery, and got some great stories about my grandma's mission, but halfway through my camera cut us off again. Not because of the battery this time, but because my memory card had run out of room! Thankfully I had my other card with me, but soon that, too was filled up. Not surprising, since I hadn't erased any of the pictures on either card since I got them for Christmas last year. Today I got more than a half an hour of interview footage. Next time I'll make sure my battery is fully charged and my cards are empty!

The three generations the title of the post refers to is the three generations of sister missionaries in my family: my grandmother, my mother, and me. When I realized that a few weeks ago I was so excited: what a wonderful tradition and heritage! Of course, I always knew my grandmother and my mother served missions, but I had never really processed how unusual that is. Up until last October, when President Monson lowered the age that sisters can serve from 21 to 19, sister missionaries made up a tiny percentage of the overall missionary force of the Church. Most women of my grandmother's generation in the Church didn't serve missions, and both my mother and I were far outnumbered by elders on our missions. I hope, though, that one day I'll be able to help add a fourth generation to that tradition, and that in my daughter's (or daughters'!) day there will be just as many sisters as there are elders.