Gammel nok for slektsgransking

et begynte vel med at jeg har blitt flasket opp med bestemors historier fra "gamle dager". De fleste husker jeg den dag idag, men detaljen er kanskje litt uklare. Jeg tror dette var bakgrunnen for at jeg ble interessert i slektsforskning. Dette var før man kunne finne alt man trengte på internett, så jeg tok flere turer til Riksarkivet ved Sognsvann på slutten av 80-tallet. Jeg var den eneste under 60-70 på lesesalen, ihvertfall var det slik jeg følte det. Mikrofilm-apparater med sveiv, og man måtte lese og lete side opp og side ned i de gamle kirkebøkene. Ingen enkle søk på navn...

Ettersom dette var ganske tungvint, ble dette en hobby som var litt av og på. Men etterhvert som de store mengdene med opplysninger ble tilgjengelig på nettet, ble jeg mer aktiv og er en av mine store lidenskaper. Jeg er fascinert av historiene som kommer frem. Og det er lett å bli oppslukt av å bare komme ett skritt videre, eller finne bevis for en antagelse jeg har.

Jeg synes det er både interessant og viktig å kjenne til sin historie, så derfor har jeg laget denne siden for å dele alt jeg har med slekten. 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. 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, as it were, 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 I am, and why I do the things I do.

Bones of my bone...

he 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 ere 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 the fathers fought and some died to make and keep us a nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love that our mothers struggled to give us birth, without them we could not exist, and so we love each one, as far back as we can reach. 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 they and they are the sum of who we are. So, as a scribe 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 my place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and restore the memory or greet those who we had never known before. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love that our mothers struggled to give us birth, without them we could not exist, and so we love each one, as far back as we can reach. 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 they and they are the sum of who we are. So, as a scribe 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 my place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and restore the memory or greet those who we had never known before.

by Della M. Cummings Wright; Rewritten by her granddaughter Dell Jo Ann McGinnis Johnson; Edited and Reworded by Tom Dunn, 1943.