Lacombe Glen Nevis: A visit to the graves of René, Angéline & Rollande Lacombe

Friday, January 6, 2012

A visit to the graves of René, Angéline & Rollande Lacombe

A visit to the graves of René Lacombe and his sister Angeline in the cemetery of Glen Nevis, South Glengarry, Ontario as well as that of Rollande Lacombe in the cemetery of Saint Télesphore, Vaudreuil-Soulanges, Quebec. The tour is completed with the passage in front of René Lacombe's old general store in North Lancaster and the home of his daughter Diane Lacombe.

Une visite des sépultures de René Lacombe et sa soeur Angéline au cimetière de Glen Nevis, South Glengarry, Ontario de même que celle de Rollande Lacombe au cimetière de Saint Télesphore, Vaudreuil-Soulanges, Québec. La visite est complétée par le passage devant l'ancien magasin général de René Lacombe à North Lancaster et la demeure de sa fille Diane Lacombe.

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Reason for this blog

This blog is not only a genealogy blog. This is also a shrine.

This is a celebration concerning the numerous success and the great forces and knowledge of the Lacombe : uncle René was a teacher and a business man. Grandmother Lacombe has been a teacher and was a saint mother : a role model. Many Lacombe like Charlemagne and Émile built their Life in USA in prosperity. Rolland became a Jésuite and a specialist of antiques. Sarah gave 2 teachers to our country. Marie was a good mother and a specialist of antiques. Rollande was a communicator, a journalist, a mother, very active in politics. Angéline was a saint mother and gave this nation a missionnary. Norman and Albert were amongst the best fiddlers of the region and gave us this love for music.

This is also a personal attempt to subconsciously get rid of the pain of Aunt Rollande crying in front of me, although she was also a ray of sunlight and a ball of energy, the unresolved grief of Grand Mother Lacombe waiting for her husband during the long winters alone while he was trapping in the woods, with 10 kids. Her fear when Rolland felt in the family well and when good Albert was sick with spanish flu or when Angeline had tuberculosis. Her grief facing the death of her daughter Ubaldine and the guilt because Norman and Real were drinking and that her grandson Maurice, the handsome son of Norman (which was the most intelligent and sensitive of our clan: a genius, creator, inventor) was destroyed by alcohol to the point where he was hit on the road staggering drunk and that he died. Behind our sorrows of descendants of Lacombe, two tons of bricks of ancestral sufferings lies there that have been transmitted through our parents, without being aware themselves. All these stories of werewolves, bear rising from the forest to attack horses, the conscience of the presence of the dead who come to ask for prayers were all personifications of the mourning, the old angst who were taught and transmitted in a non-conscious form from the fantastic characters of the legends they told us. They have imperceptibly passed on to their little people and without knowing it, the angst of five generations, the attitudes toward life, concerns and often imperceptible gestures ranging from the blink of an eye, a look, a harmless word escaping threw a sigh.

This blog remembers the love and the devotion, the faith, and the solitude and the pain which is part of any family history.

I am mentionning the pain in the description but I won't talk about it in the blog. It was just good to mention it (not to forget that pain and sorrow are also part of our life). This blog is about our forces and our rays of sunlight.