It's been some time since I worked on the family tree. I have to take a break every now and again when I get wandering down some branches that lead nowhere. Some folks call them walls to break through, but I call it the end of the branch. I do try to keep the information in that tree as accurate as possible. It's very easy to jump to conclusions, make connections were there are none, and the temptation is strong at times. When that temptation begins to pull at me, I step away. That's what happened a while back and the search has lain dormant. It's been long enough that I have forgotten where I was looking. But I do remember that it was far from the trunk! Fifth cousins. six times removed and all that, are losing my interest. On my paternal side I would need records from Germany and Swedish records from my grandmother. I've secured a few, enough to answer some questions but there is still much unknown.
I began thinking about that yesterday when it occurred to me I could look much closer to home. I could look at my own life! Yes, I'm a parent, a branch off the central tree. I thought; I have included the basics in my tree, the who begat who thing. Then I thought there is much more to tell than that. It is the details that interest me when looking for my ancestors and I realized that applies to my descendants as well. Well now, that can become uncomfortable. It can be uncomfortable for those in the past. It can be awkward in the present time. That's because we all have secrets. Those secrets run the full gambit, anything from deep and dark, to trivial. It all depends upon what we wish to share, what we wish to be known, and what we record in some fashion. Old records are the primary source of information about our ancestors. Generations to come will have the proverbial goldmine of information should they choose to search. How much information is out there, not in official records like the census and other public records, but on the various social media platforms. I can't begin to imagine how much could be mined should a knowledgeable person attempt to do so.
I admit to not having written down or shared everything about my life so far. There are incidents and accidents I would just as soon not be known. Some are just embarrassing little things, choices made that were perhaps not the best. Things that seemed like a good thing at the time. And of course there are those actions that you may have taken that you now insist your children do not! There will come a day I will share a great deal of that, as you can tell I'm prone to talking about everything. I do however believe in a time and place. I also believe I get to choose that time and place! It's frustration for those wanting to know, for those having questions. I understand that completely. I have many questions I would like answers to. I guess not so much answers, as explanations. Just a simple explanation unaccompanied by a need to justify. But the thing is, I am not aware of those things simply because they don't bother me. It's the things that nag at me that I'm talking about. The things that I wish hadn't happened, and the things I hesitate to share, are those secrets. Mistakes and missteps happen to us all. Generally speaking that is what interests others about us most of all. We do like to know those things about others it's human nature I suppose. A form of defense.
I have questions. I have questions about my ancestors that may never be answered and I can accept that. That is the reason I will step back every now and again when I get feeling like I have reached an end. I take a break, start again in a new line and maybe make some new discovery. The biggest discoveries for me are the little nuances in life. An example is, I have a postcard my grandmother wrote to her father, she called him Poppa. Interesting to me because that Grandmother of mine passed away when my father was just a few days old. He knew little of her and I knew even less. But knowing that she called her father, Poppa, made it personal, more intimate if you understand what I mean. My own father has been gone for thirty years now. It doesn't seem possible. That is almost half my life! Mom is still with me, at ninety, she is doing well. There is much she could share should she choose to do so, but she is from that generation, the generation that holds things inside for the most part. Hers is the greatest generation, stalwart, unflinching, and stoic in the face of danger! At least that is how I see them. Not that they are perfect, but they sure aren't emotional jelly.
I am aware that Mom, my parents, had and Mom still has a secret life. We all do. It is just that I have come to realize and appreciate that more as I grow older. What we want are people to remember us. We want to be remembered for all the good things, not the missteps and mistakes that we may have made. For that reason we don't want to share those things. I'm seeing a bit of a shift in that thinking these days. It seems like people are far more willing to claim missteps, mistakes and downright bad behavior as a tool. A tool to an entitlement of some kind, an eliciting of sympathy or charity. It's a different attitude altogether. It's being touted as " acceptance " or " inclusion " these mistakes and missteps when we admit to them. Indeed some are encouraged to continue in those behaviors! We are urged, not to judge. Without judgement, no justification is required, no explanation need be offered. And we don't want to explain ourselves do we? No, we certainly don't.
There are days, times, that I feel like I owe an explanation. I owe an explanation to my descendants. It's a strange thing to feel obligated to those that came after you. I'm beginning to understand why our parents didn't share everything. Would sharing information be of any benefit to them? Our descendants I mean. Will telling them about our weaknesses, our faults, and shortcomings serve any purpose? Do they really need me as an example? No, I guess they don't, but then again they do. It is only through truth and transparency that we learn to get along with one another, generation to generation. It's has to become personal. It is important to share all the information for the next generation to make informed choices. It is important to let your children know that you are not perfect, that you did make mistakes. But then again do not children need heroes? They need someone to look up to, to admire, to emulate. Should that be left to celebrities? I don't think so! And so it is left to us, the parents. For that reason we need to protect some of the past from the minds of the future. It's an obligation.
Well my hope here is to give you the reader something to think about. I'm still thinking about all of it. When I first began writing a book, my book, it was with the intent to explain, unapologetically for the choices I made in my life. I feel a need to do so. Why this need? I don't know. Maybe if I finish writing that book, which is on hold at the this time, I will discover the answer to that question. It has been said if you want to know what you believe, write. I'll keep writing as the need moves me and it could be I'll discover the explanations, if not the answers.
I began thinking about that yesterday when it occurred to me I could look much closer to home. I could look at my own life! Yes, I'm a parent, a branch off the central tree. I thought; I have included the basics in my tree, the who begat who thing. Then I thought there is much more to tell than that. It is the details that interest me when looking for my ancestors and I realized that applies to my descendants as well. Well now, that can become uncomfortable. It can be uncomfortable for those in the past. It can be awkward in the present time. That's because we all have secrets. Those secrets run the full gambit, anything from deep and dark, to trivial. It all depends upon what we wish to share, what we wish to be known, and what we record in some fashion. Old records are the primary source of information about our ancestors. Generations to come will have the proverbial goldmine of information should they choose to search. How much information is out there, not in official records like the census and other public records, but on the various social media platforms. I can't begin to imagine how much could be mined should a knowledgeable person attempt to do so.
I admit to not having written down or shared everything about my life so far. There are incidents and accidents I would just as soon not be known. Some are just embarrassing little things, choices made that were perhaps not the best. Things that seemed like a good thing at the time. And of course there are those actions that you may have taken that you now insist your children do not! There will come a day I will share a great deal of that, as you can tell I'm prone to talking about everything. I do however believe in a time and place. I also believe I get to choose that time and place! It's frustration for those wanting to know, for those having questions. I understand that completely. I have many questions I would like answers to. I guess not so much answers, as explanations. Just a simple explanation unaccompanied by a need to justify. But the thing is, I am not aware of those things simply because they don't bother me. It's the things that nag at me that I'm talking about. The things that I wish hadn't happened, and the things I hesitate to share, are those secrets. Mistakes and missteps happen to us all. Generally speaking that is what interests others about us most of all. We do like to know those things about others it's human nature I suppose. A form of defense.
I have questions. I have questions about my ancestors that may never be answered and I can accept that. That is the reason I will step back every now and again when I get feeling like I have reached an end. I take a break, start again in a new line and maybe make some new discovery. The biggest discoveries for me are the little nuances in life. An example is, I have a postcard my grandmother wrote to her father, she called him Poppa. Interesting to me because that Grandmother of mine passed away when my father was just a few days old. He knew little of her and I knew even less. But knowing that she called her father, Poppa, made it personal, more intimate if you understand what I mean. My own father has been gone for thirty years now. It doesn't seem possible. That is almost half my life! Mom is still with me, at ninety, she is doing well. There is much she could share should she choose to do so, but she is from that generation, the generation that holds things inside for the most part. Hers is the greatest generation, stalwart, unflinching, and stoic in the face of danger! At least that is how I see them. Not that they are perfect, but they sure aren't emotional jelly.
I am aware that Mom, my parents, had and Mom still has a secret life. We all do. It is just that I have come to realize and appreciate that more as I grow older. What we want are people to remember us. We want to be remembered for all the good things, not the missteps and mistakes that we may have made. For that reason we don't want to share those things. I'm seeing a bit of a shift in that thinking these days. It seems like people are far more willing to claim missteps, mistakes and downright bad behavior as a tool. A tool to an entitlement of some kind, an eliciting of sympathy or charity. It's a different attitude altogether. It's being touted as " acceptance " or " inclusion " these mistakes and missteps when we admit to them. Indeed some are encouraged to continue in those behaviors! We are urged, not to judge. Without judgement, no justification is required, no explanation need be offered. And we don't want to explain ourselves do we? No, we certainly don't.
There are days, times, that I feel like I owe an explanation. I owe an explanation to my descendants. It's a strange thing to feel obligated to those that came after you. I'm beginning to understand why our parents didn't share everything. Would sharing information be of any benefit to them? Our descendants I mean. Will telling them about our weaknesses, our faults, and shortcomings serve any purpose? Do they really need me as an example? No, I guess they don't, but then again they do. It is only through truth and transparency that we learn to get along with one another, generation to generation. It's has to become personal. It is important to share all the information for the next generation to make informed choices. It is important to let your children know that you are not perfect, that you did make mistakes. But then again do not children need heroes? They need someone to look up to, to admire, to emulate. Should that be left to celebrities? I don't think so! And so it is left to us, the parents. For that reason we need to protect some of the past from the minds of the future. It's an obligation.
Well my hope here is to give you the reader something to think about. I'm still thinking about all of it. When I first began writing a book, my book, it was with the intent to explain, unapologetically for the choices I made in my life. I feel a need to do so. Why this need? I don't know. Maybe if I finish writing that book, which is on hold at the this time, I will discover the answer to that question. It has been said if you want to know what you believe, write. I'll keep writing as the need moves me and it could be I'll discover the explanations, if not the answers.
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