Family Stories will be a blog about the lives of my shirt-tail ancestors – aunts, uncles, cousins – and I’ve got some good tales to tell. For the Introductory post, I introduced myself and said a few words about my other ancestry blog. Looking for a photo of some sort, I came across a prose poem that hit me in my heart.
It appears that Della Joann McGinnis Johnson probably wrote the original version of this, but others may have edited/contributed. Whoever it was, I thank them. I’m happy to report that I’m not the only crazy person who feels the presence of their ancestors – even consulting with them – and who views graveyards as living things. This explains it…
THE STORY TELLERS
We are the chosen. In each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors – to put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe. All tribes have one.
We have been called by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us: tell our story. So we do. In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors you have a wonderful family you would be proud of us? How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me?
I cannot say.
It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who am I and why do I do the things I do. It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying I can’t let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family. It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are them and they are us.
So, as a scribe is called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and put flesh on the bones.
Because I love writing this Report, because the format of “that was the week that was” is easy, because my loyal readers enjoy even the boring parts, I keep on truckin’. But, honestly, I want more people to read my stuff. I’ve got some stories to tell and they’re good ones. Hang with me while I get them written and published over at Family Stories. Until I get going, there’s a lot of good reads at All My Ancestors.
We’re off to the Races today with the Jrs (minus Nova, who has to work)! It’s perfect weather, and I’m feelin’ lucky…
Hope you’re feeling lucky, too!
Peace
The News from Sonnystone Acres 