Now that I want to know more about my ancestors, there is almost no one left to ask. All my grandparents are long gone, including all my mother's and father's siblings. Wish I had paid better attention when I had access to the source of my beginnings.
Rummaging through closet clutter, I hope to find the papers documenting my grandparents arrival at Ellis Island.
Lately, my daughter has quizzed me about the family tree on both sides. Thankfully, she is revving up interest earlier than I ever did. Maybe she will be the family historian. She had to wade through a bunch of Vincents, Anthonys, Franks, Anns, and a host of us destined to carry on the famiy names. No one feels the need to do this anymore. Case in point, my newest great grandaughter...named Grace Aurora. Okay, my mom was Grace but Aurora is unique and so so this little one.
Finding distant relatives is a cake walk now. The other day, someone named Michelle asked to 'friend' me on Facebook. I recognized the last name of her father, who happened to be my first cousin Anthony. I have never met Michelle, but her photo shows someone with long curly hair and a resemblance to my Aunt Sadie, her grandmother.
Michelle found me through Google. Seems that she was looking to find the grave site of her great grandfather (my grandfather) who lived in Willisville, Illlinois, the place my where my mother lived as a child. Google sent Michelle to the town, and there I was, listed with my blog on typepad. I guess I wrote a blog mentioning Willisville once. Seems you can run but there is nowhere to hide in this worldwide community of 'friends' and others.
I messaged Michelle that she resembled my aunt, and she messaged back that she thought my photo did, too. Turns out she has lupus, too. We truly are related.
This month I will visit another first cousin, Ann,better known in as Nin, who is 9 years older than I am, and holds many family secrets. I will be quizzing her about things like why our grandfather made our grandmother sleep sideways at the foot of his bed. That is the family story, anyway. Poor woman died in her late forties of a stroke, leaving the bed all to himself. But that's another story and was the catalyst of his suicide years later. Intrigued?
Meanwhile, in a website about classmates, I now find that my high school year book is on line. Roosevelt High School's, The Log. I I found myself there along with classmates and proof that Shel Silverstein was indeed one of them. My claim to fame, vicariously.
What is so fascinating about delving into the past once the future seems to be narrowing? Knowing why my grandparents left their famiies back in Italy to cross the ocean and find...what? Didn't they feel a tug at their heartstrings at leaving their own parents behind? How brave was that? Emotions are beyond knowing. Statistics about dates and ships tell nothing about the real drama.
I better get busy on my own memoir and quit spending so much time on the lives of strangers. Just bought a new one though. Who could resist "Weekends at Bellevue," by Julie Holland, M.D.? I hear it is intense. On second thought, I think I'll re-read, "Eat, Pray, Love," by Elizabeth Gilbert. I like her style.- and the recipes were great.
So Says Sassy
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