I have a large collection of old photos from my husband's family, the Aardsma clan and from my family, the Filliol clan, which I thought would be of interest to others, especially any of Gerald's or my relatives.
This spawned the idea of posting a family genealogy, both in photo and text. All maiden names will be in brackets.
I will be writing in the first person, the I being me, Helen (Filliol) Aardsma, daughter of Aline (Murphy) Filliol and Bernard Filliol.
This is me, Helen Eloise (Filliol) Aardsma.
The Helen (Filliol) Aardsma Family History
Here I am at six months old.
Born in Cornwall, Ontario, Canada, 1954.
My Paternal Grandparents
My Maternal Grandparents
My Mother & Father from Marriage Onward
The Gerald Aardsma Family History
This is my husband Gerald Edward Aardsma
at six months old.
Born on Long Island, New York in 1955.
Son of the late
Jacob Allen Aardsma
and Margaret (Upton) Aardsma
Gerald's Paternal Grandparents
Gerald's Maternal Grandparents, Gerald' Father, Gerald's Mother, Gerald's Siblings, and Gerald's Childhood.
The Helen & Gerald Aardsma Family History
Our wedding day, August,1972.
Cornwall, Ontario, Canada.
Our Courtship, Our Wedding, Our Children, Our Grandchildren, Where We've Lived, and Our Ministries.
by my Titus 2 friend, Pauline Tallman
used by permission
Simply remembering the past isnít nostalgia. Nostalgia has a sting to it, a sweet sadness. Itís the memory of good times that bring pain because they slipped away.
Nostalgia is a sudden surge of longing for what is gone forever: the happy freedom of childhood, the tender caresses of a mother, the strong and gentle hand of a father, a first love full of mystique and joy, woods and meadows where once we played and on which now sits a mall. It is activated by a photo, a fragrance, or perhaps a return visit to a neighborhood where we drive by the old house with sagging porch and find it still hosts a thousand happy memories.
Bad things bring bitter memories, and even sometimes a deep satisfaction because those bad times are now behind us. Nostalgia, however, is made of good things; itís the sugar that produces the stingóthe sweet pain that crosses the heart like a current and leaves one lost for a time in a sea of longing.