A year later


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Well, I’m not doing so well with keeping up with this blog, but I have been insanely busy with school and James and trying to manage money since I don’t have a job. Full-time at Marian University and applying to the nursing program in the fall. I started there last August and am doing well. I had wrecked my GPA many years ago, but it’s on the upswing and I’m determined to keep it that way. At the rate I’m going I could end up with at least a 3.7 when I graduate.

James is nearly three now. And what a difference the year has made for sure. I don’t really have time to update now, so I’ll just leave you with this gem.

Jenn's Graduation

Jenn’s Graduation, James and his best friend, Brady (Jenn’s 4 year old son)



Boy, Do They Grow Fast


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Well, when I think back to the days it was easy to change James’ diaper and get him dressed … these days it’s a fight to the death to get him to lay still so I can change his diaper, let alone put pants or shorts on him.  So last night, while celebrating Star Wars day with pizza and a movie marathon, I looked up at him, glanced at the TV because he got a wicked smile on his face, looked back at him and his pants and diaper were half off, bare bum hanging out for me to see.  He was quite pleased with himself as the photo below shows you: Evidence A.

Mr Trouble

Yes, my boy has crossed over into the Naked Side and he thoroughly enjoys it.  So, I guess now I will be looking down and seeing him naked when people come to visit, or at least in the process of becoming naked.

Today is Cinco de Mayo and last year we didn’t celebrate. So, we are this year.  This morning we went to the zoo and tired ourselves out.  He just woke up from his nap and is making something for his Nana (at least he’s suppose to be doing that). Tonight we’re going to El Rodeo with his Nana and Papaw Judd (yes, his dad’s folks) and it should be a fun time provided he doesn’t throw his food and/or plate on the floor. One never knows with a toddler.


The Little Boy’s Growing Vocabulary



The other night, lying in bed, James was practicing all of the anatomy he has learned; pointing to each place and telling me what they were. Just because he knows now.

Ear, eyes, nose, mouth, neck, tummy, knee, foot, toes. That’s what he knows. Such a smart little boy.

In six days he will be 21 months old and that means only THREE MONTHS before he’s 2 years old. Besides learning G-rated body parts, he is also saying things like:

“Leave me alone.” (to his dad, not me)

“Mama, outtide. Wook!”


“Bike” or “Bikey”

“Cat” and “Cats”

“Teeth” (he says this when he wants to brush his teeth which thankfully is often)

“Broosh” (brush)

“Toots” or “Toost” (toast)

“Mik” (milk; while he still does the sign for milk)

“Thank you”

“Yes” and “No”

“Chwis” or “Kiss” (Chris)

“Grwace” (Grace)



So much change in the past month. I think I’m getting use to Mom not being here anymore. It’s not like it was ever a hard reality to grasp (if only); it was all too much, too real to avoid it actually. He doesn’t call for YaYa unless he sees a photo and then he just says “YaYa” and gives the photo a kiss. He does this on his own, no coaching. So, I guess at least for now, he still has some memory of her.

We spend most days alone together. It’s not like we can walk outside and be somewhere fun and since I have to conserve money like I’m rationing food during the Great Depression we don’t drive a lot. Still, we manage to simultaneously have fun and get on each others’ nerves, and despite it all he never tells me to leave him alone or go. He is like my little barnacle, attached to me all the time.

Like I said, this is both a pro and a con.

That’s the thing about being a parent I’ve learned. Every thing is both a blessing and an annoyance; you like your alone time but you miss them when they’re gone, you like that they love you but it’s easy to be smothered, they are learning words but they’re talking back to you. It’s all a double-edge sword; non-parents give looks like they think I’m horrible when I say “Sometimes he drives me bat shit crazy” as if I’ve just admitted something no sane or decent parent would ever think let alone say aloud. You will learn what every parent already knows soon enough young ones. You have been warned.

What am I doing?



James has been away from home since Saturday evening; the longest time ever. I got a lot of sleep, but I don’t like being away from him for so long. This reality is terrible; I’d give away everything to just keep my boy with me so I have someone around.

I spend most days and nights alone; going through all the motions of everything I’m suppose to do and hoping it pays off.  We are only 5 days away from the one month mark since Mom passed away and my heart sinks, my throat closes up, and my stomach turns into an uneasy sea, rolling and churning.

So many questions in my head. They keep me awake and distracted. Why did I have to lose my mother? Why will James never know her? What did any us of do to deserve this? Not only my mother, but I lost my father before James was born; again, why?

An orphan before I turned 29. Who else would that have happened to? It’s always felt to be that way: many don’t love me/care about me and the ones that do are gone too soon.

I sit facing the facts dead in the eye: I will always be single, I will always have a little less light in me now that my best friend is gone, I will forever be lost because she always had the right answers (or at least her wrong answers lead me towards the right ones).

Everyone tells me that James will always have pictures and stories of his YaYa. Like it’ll make me feel better, right? No. He’ll have those things, but what about personal memories and experiences meant only for the two of them.  How many times will I hear “What was she like?” and “What kinds of things did she and I do?” When really he should be saying things like “Guess what YaYa and I did this weekend!” and “YaYa and I have a secret I’m not suppose to tell you.”

I think back on all the weekends Chris and I spent with our grandparents while Mom drove all the way back from Terre Haute just to turn around 40 hours later to come get us. Popcorn, movies, back scratches, catching lady bugs and fireflies, gardening, tractor pulls, tee ball, bbq’s, old records, cross-stitching, coffee shops with plain donuts and the funnies section with Gramps and his buddies, running in fields, Old Mill Dam river hiking, railroad tracks with cowboy silhouettes in the distance, sitting on a lap while we drove on backroads, train whistles in the distance through an open window on a warm night. James will never know those kinds of moments with his grandparents.

My tiny family gets smaller every year it seems, and all I want is to be happy with everyone. To find someone who’ll put a light back inside me so I can stop pretending it’s still there. I don’t mean that James doesn’t light me up; he does. But there are pieces missing from my heart now and I’m afraid they’re forever lost. I don’t see anyone or meet anyone (males, that is) that makes me feel like I want them let alone need them. All of them look like they’re going to be like all the others; letdowns. People who tell me they love me and in the next second shut down to me completely and wonder why I get angry when I ask them what’s wrong and know they’re lying when they say “nothing.” They get angry at me for assuming things, but when I ask they won’t give me an honest answer. I’m not a mind reader and I won’t try to be one.

I don’t think life is terrible; I think most of the people are rotten inside, I see how no one cares to preserve this planet so their future generations have happy healthy memories like they do. James is perfect, though. I want him to be educated so he will make positive differences; I fear the teen years because I know I was a shit and I know his father was a typical teen doing typical stupid teen things. It happens. If it happens to James, it will, but hopefully his intelligence will stick around and he’ll be better/above all of the bull shit.

I hope I light him up the way Mom did for me, but learning about motherhood on your own isn’t how it is suppose to go. My mom was alone for 27.5 years, 90 or so miles away from her mother, but her mother and father were alive into old age. If my mom didn’t know what to do or say, her parents had the knowledge and experience. I have surrogate parents and I’m thankful for them, but they are not the same.

So, what am I doing? Why do I care to know my family tree and see these names of people I will never know? Why do I care about their stories?

Because someone has to care. Because hopefully, one day, someone not born yet will wonder and come across my name in their tree. I might not have a story to tell, but maybe they’ll come across this random blip of internet space and see that a hundred or more years ago, emotions, thoughts, beliefs, ideals, and practices were basically the same.

Mostly, I just hope James cares. I hope when he suffers the loss of his mother, these silly blogs will help him somehow. Help him remember my voice, carry on the Moralez name, be proud of his royal lineages. I hope he is infinitely better than Josh and I combined, and reminds us humbly of that often with achievements we can gush about to everyone we know.

I think for Mother’s Day I’ll visit my mom.

Robert the Bruce


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While researching the family tree I stumbled all the way back to the 13th century on my maternal grandfather’s side.  There I found many Lords and Ladies and while at my mother’s viewing my uncle said, “So you must have found King Robert of Scotland, huh?”  I said, “What?”  He said, “Yeah, our many times great grandfather was the king of Scotland.”


Robert the Bruce (11 July 1274-7 June 1329), or Robert I, was King of Scotsfrom 25 March 1306, until his death in 1329.

His paternal ancestors were of Scoto-Norman heritage (originating in Brix, Manche, Normandy), and his maternal of Franco-Gaelic.[3] He became one of Scotland’s greatest kings, as well as one of the most famous warriors of his generation, eventually leading Scotland during the Wars of Scottish Independence against the Kingdom of England. He claimed the Scottish throne as a fourth great-grandson of David I of Scotland, and fought successfully during his reign to regain Scotland‘s place as an independent nation. Today in Scotland, Bruce is remembered as a national hero.

His body is buried in Dunfermline Abbey, while it is believed his heart was interred in Melrose Abbey. Bruce’s lieutenant and friend Sir James Douglas agreed to take the late King’s embalmed heart on crusade to the Holy Land, but he only reached Moorish Granada. According to tradition, Douglas was carrying the heart in a silver casket when he died at the head of the Scottish contingent at the Battle of Teba.


So, between the Baskervilles of England and the Bruces of Scotland, James is bound to own 1/100th of a castle somewhere, right? 😉

Debra Elaine


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Thursday, March 29, 2012 is the day we lost our precious mother and James’ YaYa. She was taken suddenly by leukemia and has left a major void in our lives.

James asks for her, but after 7 days he’s already begun to stop. It’s heartbreaking either way you slice it.

My mother was so passionate about her children and my brother said it best at her service yesterday: ”The day Sarah was born her passion in life began and a flame lit inside her. The flame grew twice as big when [I] was born. … Then on August 7, 2012 James was born and that flame erupted.”

She is a hard act to follow, but I’m certainly going to have to try my best taking over the matriarch role in the family.

Chris and I felt comforted seeing our long lost uncles, aunts, and cousins. Friends and family gathered around us; there was a lot of love and I’m happy to say a lot of laughter, too.

I miss her and I’m incredibly sad that now James will only know both of my parents through storytelling. It’s neither fair nor right to lose both of your parents before you’re 30, but it’s my new reality and every day goes on so I can either keep up one day at a time or fall behind and ruin all my hard work at creating a better life, one she’d be proud of me for.

I choose to make her proud and not let her die in vain.

Sep 10, 1954-Mar 29, 2012



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this is what ancestry.com had for me:

I. Robert Baskerville, b. 1817 in Ireland (James’ 4x great-grandpa)

  • parents: unknown
  • spouse: unknown
  • siblings: unknown
  • children:
  1. Robert
  2. John
  3. Mary
  4. Thomas

II. Robert Baskerville, b. 1847 in Ireland, d. 1910 (age 63) in Indiana

  • parents: Robert Baskerville & ??
  • spouse: Margaret ??, 1874 (he was 27)
  • siblings: John, Mary, Thomas
  • children:
  1. Dorathy
  2. Thomas
  3. Mary
  4. Josephine
  5. Cecelia
  6. Lottie
  7. Albert

III. Albert “Pete” Baskerville, b. 17 Apr 1897, d. May 1967 (age 70)

  • parents: Robert Baskerville & Margaret ??
  • spouse: Naomi Kitzmiller, 1917 (he was 19)
  • siblings: Dorathy, Thomas, Mary, Josephine, Cecelia, Lottie
  • children: (first four where nowhere to be found on the site; never listed)
  1. Albert
  2. Dorothy
  3. Nancy
  4. Samuel
  5. Maxine
  6. Mary
  7. Helen
  8. Robert
  9. Donovan
  10. Charlotte
  11. Micahel

IV. Michael Steven Joseph Baskerville, b. 4 Dec 1938

  • parents: Albert Baskerville & Naomi Kitzmiller
  • spouse: Lina Lou Owen
  • siblings: (they’re all listed above)
  • children:
  1. Theresa
  2. Joseph
  3. Steven
  4. Michael

V. Joseph Francis Baskerville, b. 29 Dec 1962

  • parents: Michael Baskerville & Linda Owen
  • spouse: NA
  • siblings: Theresa, Steven, Michael
  • children:
  1. Joshua
  2. Jessica

VI. Joshua Tyler Baskerville, b. 1 July 1986

  • parents: Joseph Baskerville & Teresa Kincaid
  • spouse: NA
  • sibling: Jessica
  • child:
  1. James

VII. James Sparrow Moralez Baskerville, b. 7 Aug 2010

  • parents: Joshua Baskerville & Sarah Moralez

and it begins


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son of Joshua Tyler Baskerville and Sarah Nicole Moralez

I’ve started the 14 day free trial on ancestry.com, and in the first two days I was able to get through my grandmother’s side of the family all the way back to 1740 when Capt. Robert Higgins of Dublin, Ireland married his wife. He lived to be 110 years old and one of his sons lived to be 100. The Irish are a determined people, that’s for sure. This is a great finding in the month of March; this St. Padrick’s Day will be an even better day than it already is!

What I’m Doing Here


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All of my young adult life I have been fascinated with family trees and the questions and stories they bring up. I hear tale that the IMPL offers ancestry.com for free with access to everything and that, my friends, sounds a whole lot better than paying $27/month.  So, I’m finally diving head first into my family history, including James’ family tree on his dad’s side. I already have a whole list of names thanks to James’ great-grandmother, Linda. My side of the family tree is a complete mystery to me. I’ve heard a story or two at some points in my life, but now I’m going to essentially meet these people, learn, who they were and what they did, what they saw, where they went. I’m going to find out what generation American I am from my dad’s side.  This is all very exciting for a nostalgic person such as myself.  I have VERY little family (a lot that are living, but two that I am close with; that being my mom and brother).  I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in my family since the death of my grandmother, Ada, in 1998. The family just dissipated and stopped caring about each other; or maybe they just finally started letting their true feelings out after that, I don’t know.  That’s not my concern anymore.

I’m clinging to the last thread of family ties through this journey.  My brother essentially is the last Moralez unless he has a son; a very big moment for this family.

So, let’s get started!