For some reason that I can not explain, understanding my family roots seems to be more important to me the older I become. And let me tell you, once you delve into your family history, the bigger the mystery becomes! The more layers you peel back, the more layers you discover. It's simply amazing to me. I really wish the people in my family(s) had kept journals. I'm beginning to think everyone in the world should, because too much goes to the grave with the people we love. I'm now left wondering if my Father's father was English or French, and if his Mother's family was actually Welsh, or the "off the boat" Irish that she claimed. And I know my Mother's family is Hispanic, but did they hale completely from Spain or is the legend of the rogue ancestor with the French wife, (or mistress/lover??), who fled to Puerto Rico actually true?
As much as I want to, I'm not going to stay buried in research in an attempt to find out my family past and all of the intriguing secrets... Because though family history is an amazing thing to look back on, marvel at, and even research from time to time, I would much rather live my life in the present with the people I still have the great blessing to enjoy.
Photograph by: My Daddy
(Me & My Little Brother Before Cartoons on a Saturday circa 1980.)