Later than I suggested and hoped, but still getting a blog post in this week. This is the ‘before’ picture as I worked on a family project for the month of November.
In Catholicism, and some other religious traditions, the month of November begins with two special days, All Saints Day on November 1st, and All Souls Day on November 2nd. During the month, we remember our deceased family members in a special way, and in many parishes members of the parish are encouraged to bring family photos to display. I decided to do my own display both to honor and remember family, but also as a way to introduce the Grands to their ancestors. Two Grands are named after two of them.
I was ready to tell them about my parents and my own ‘nanas and papas’, but as with many things planned, it didn’t end as expected.
I’m very blessed that women on both sides of my family researched our genealogy and I have not only some charts, but also photos, handwritten letters, and records that extend back to the 1500s. As I combed through the files confirming who was married to whom and birth – death dates, I read tidbits I’d not taken time to read before. One brief letter to my grandma confirmed her great-grandfather–making him my great-great-great-grandpa!–was raised to a Master Mason in 1857. When I shared that information with my son, who’s also a Mason, his response was, ‘Wow! That’s the same year my Lodge was formed.’
I went down rabbit holes with Find-A-Grave–a great website–and found a missing piece to my former husband’s family. He’d repeated the story about his grandma being raised by someone other than her parents, almost as if she’d been adopted. But didn’t seem to know why. What I found was his grandma’s birth mother had died a month or two after her daughter was born, so she was raised by an aunt and uncle.
Why is any of this important now? It’s for the stories and the sense of connection to a larger body of family. When my sisters and I were young, we lived down an alley from one set of grandparents and an aunt, uncle, and cousins. Our other grandparents and another aunt, uncle, cousin unit lived within walking distance. We saw them and out-of-town family regularly, knew each other, knew who we were connected to. I’m still in touch with several cousins but I’m envious of those who have family reunions.
Family can be a complicated thing. While on my Poet Sisters retreat earlier this week, we talked a lot about family; the one we’re born into and the one we choose. We all had stories of brokenness, whether from alcohol, abuse, mental illness, or just that one family member who wasn’t part of the family because of some age-old slight or misunderstanding. Collectively we knew few families who hadn’t experienced something to some degree. Knowing our histories is also knowing about the strength and resilience, and forgiveness and compassion that’s part of our DNA.
My own family’s experiencing some of that at the moment along with its pain, frustration, and hurt. And that’s when my little project ended differently than I’d planned
Here’s the finished look that will remain through the end of November.
What I thought would be a fun, simple project to engage my Grands, became a healing project for me. I enjoy sitting in the dining room with my wonderfully broken, silly, strong, faithful family. I come from a long line of strong women and moms who faced nothing different than what I am, and I hear their voices giving me support and encouragement. I’m reminded of what my family has already weathered, and I’m given assurance we will do so again.
Most of our local family spent Saturday afternoon and evening with us. One of the Grands is interested in all things military, so after showing them their great-grandpa who was a tank commander during the Korean Conflict, now I have to dig out pics of him with his tank. Another Grand loves helping his other grandparents feed their chickens and liked finding out a great-great grandpa owned one of the most successful hatcheries in Crawford County, Ohio. He wants to see my pic of the hatchery truck. This Grand’s mom saw a photo of his great-grandma and said, ‘I’ve seen that look on his face!” We talked about how blue eyes showed up in a field of brown ones; and maybe they all like to make music because two of their great-great grandmas played piano, and a great-great grandpa played guitar in a band. The adult ‘kids’ made sure I planned to pass along copies of the photos. I promised. The stories and connections started, and with the next batch of pictures they’ll continue.
How many of you still have family reunions that gather members from far and wide?
My little getaway earlier this week was the last planned trip until early next year. I’m looking forward to hanging at home for a while. I have my notes for Monday’s blog post, so I hope you’ll stop by my window. Enjoy your Sunday!
A Writer's Window 