On Friday, I drove to Paducah and spent the weekend with my family. It was really nice, especially Sunday afternoon after eating lunch (or supper in these parts) with my great aunts and uncle, my grandmother, and Ron. My great-aunt is without a doubt the family historian and where I get my photo-taking, scrapbooking, pack-ratting genes from.
Ever since putting the photo collage together for my dad's 50th birthday, I've wanted to get some photos from my mom's side of the famiy so I could put together a display. Well, I hit the jackpot with Carolyn. I got pictures, pictures, and more pictures.
Beautiful pictures of my grandmother when she graduated from high school. Pictures of my great-grandmother in what my grandmother informed me was a "go-to-hell" hat. A school picture my great-aunt had written a little love note to my great-uncle on.However, the most amazing pictures are the ones of my great-great grandmother and her family. Her name was Ruby and she died when my great-grandmother was three or four. I've heard the story several times before because it is cited as the reason the women in my family aren't big nurturers. The theory goes that my great-grandmother was raised by her stepmother who took very good care of her but never treated her as her own child, and therefore she never had that super-nurturing model. I've always loved that my mother was the "walk it off - you'll be fine" mother. It made me the independent person I am today so it was pretty intense to look at the woman whose death shaped my life.
It got me thinking so much that when I got home I signed onto ancestry.com and started working on my family tree. Well, SIX hours later I'd gotten several generations back. The best part was when I was showing Erin what I had done once I got back to Louisville I did a search that plugged me into another tree people work on together. I was able to trace back to 1259 Scotland! Pretty crazy.It's so fascinating to see who and where you came from. I know it sounds cheesy but both sides of my family have been in Kentucky for generations, which makes me feel slightly less crazy for feeling so connected to it.
I started working on Nicholas's tree last night. As I have suspected all along, he is a total imposter as a Southerner. Almost his entire family came from either Massachusetts or Pennsylvania... I can't believe I married a Yankee. So, anyway I guess not all the revelations have been positive ;)
1 comment:
It doesn't count that he was raised in the heart of the South? And that his mother makes better grits than most so-called "Southern" mamas?
I'd be interested in seeing both trees when we see each other in a few days. Looking forward to it!
Post a Comment