A Little History:
Our story begins in Pocatello, Idaho, circa 1972, when the lovely Debby Christensen agreed to a first, though fateful date with admirer, David Croshaw. Long story-short, he bade her follow him, and they went arm-in-arm to the Logan, Utah temple for establishment of an eternal family unit, Generation 1, on May 23 1973.
From their first blissful summer in Salt Lake City, educational pursuits took them to Provo/Orem, Utah, birthplace of Leslie and Rebecca, and to San Francisco/Oakland California, birthplace of Colin and Matt. Then, for establishment of livelihood, expansion of the tribe with Abby and Dana, and for raising/unifying of Generation 2, it was back to the roots in Pocatello for a rewarding sojourn.
In time, driven by a raging, but commonly shared sense of adventure and independence, one-by-one, Generation 2 escaped the homeland to distant regions of the country and the world, each ultimately developing their own tribal expansions by pairing with worthy mates and initiating Generation 3.
Now sensing fulfillment of their purpose in Pocatello, Generation 1 has also left those roots and transplanted to Cascade Idaho, from which base, they anticipate more abundant contact with The Posterity, Generations 2 and 3, in the future. That contact however, awaits fulfillment of a call to LDS missionary service in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, wherein they hope to help the state of the world by sharing the love of Jesus Christ.
So now, including Generation 0 (Grandma and Grandpa Christensen) home base includes Yuma, Arizona, Pocatello, Idaho, Cascade, Idaho, Vancouver, BC, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Spokane, Washington, Boise, Idaho, Los Angeles, California, back to Boise, Idaho, and on and on (Generation 3+) to infinity.
Our Mission Statement:
This is the blog of our eternal family unit. Initiated years ago, it served well as a journal, but even more so, as an archive of our personal interaction. It was a gathering place, a confabulation instrument, a unifying force for four generations of widely dispersed and progressively prolific posterity, and their valued associates. Though it served these purposes well for many years, it eventually took a back seat to new-kids-on-the-block, Facebook, and Instagram, and was sadly forgotten.
We now move to resurrect this blog with an added functional purpose of archiving the missionary experiences of Generation 1, of their movements and activities as they participate with The Gathering of Israel in the land northward. In so doing, we hope that via their own comments and posts, this blog will again serve to gather and unify the posterity and their friends.
As in the past, that the young and vibrant may know the old and tired, that enduring bonds may be fostered and maintained, that experience and encouragement may be openly shared, that posterity may embrace truth, and that hearts may be knit together, we must resist detachment despite our geographic divergence. We shall do so here. 
Two weeks ago, my uncle Roy passed away at the age of 87. He was my father's youngest brother, the last of twelve covenant children of John James and May Belle Fisher Croshaw to leave this mortal sphere. He was certainly a favored uncle of mine. Some of you may remember him. I regret that I did not make him a more prominent part of all your lives, as you would have benefited from knowing him. Mom and I attended his funeral in Utah. The experience confirmed what I have always known of him: his was a life honorably fulfilled. Following is the entry I made in his family's online guestbook. If you would like to read more of him, see his obituary.
5 comments:
I was not expecting it, but I totally cried reading about Uncle Roy! For some reason, when I read about his love of animals, I had a vision of Valerie and him. It was very, very odd. But it happened. She loves animals too and although the relationship is that of sealing, it is the most-powerful, so I suppose it should not have been with surprise that I had that imagery. Anyway. He sounds sublime. I am very sad for the family's loss! What type of surgery was he having?
I think I met Uncle Roy once, but the way he treated me you would have thought he had known me for my entire life. That's the one and only impression I have of him. What do you expect though, he's Grandpa's younger brother. That's how I would expect he would be.
And I didn't get a chance to know Grandpa much, but Roy looks exactly like I remember Grandpa looking.
There were eight sons in that family, Grandpa the oldest and Roy the youngest, and those two resemble one another more than any of the others, not only in looks, but also in demeanor and personality. They were all good, kind men, but I think my dad and Roy stood out. A story about Uncle Roy: When Leslie was a baby, one of the other brothers (Howard, also from the Logan area) passed away. At Howard's funeral, Mom and I were sitting right behind Uncle Roy, and there was a period where Leslie got fussy and cried for some time. As new parents, we were a little embarrassed that those around us could probably not hear the speakers. Afterward, Uncle Roy apparently percieving our distress, unprompted, turned around and told us something like, "Don't you worry a bit about that sweet little girl crying. These little ones are what life is all about." He was just a good, kind man, always thinking about the concerns of others. At Roy's funeral, one of Howard's kids told me that after their dad died (at a fairly young age) Uncle Roy would visit them every week, and would attend most of their games and events. He took it upon himself to provide a father figure for his brother's children.
To answer Crystal's question, Roy did love animals, especially horses. I remember he had a couple of horses in the pasture next to his house. One of them was an especially good horse that was very devoted to him. Had he had the opportunity, he would have loved to teach Valerie to ride. I'm not sure what the surgery was, but it was supposed to be routine, and he was otherwise in very good health. He passing was a surprize.
Dad/David
Colin, that is what my vague memory also is. He treated me like he has known me forever. He looks exactly like grandpa in that picture. I love what you wrote, dad. You have such a way with words...
I don't think I spent much time with him either...that I remember. But I do remember Grandpa, and if they were anything alike, the world will miss his presence. Thanks for sharing, dad.
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