Alas, my elusive kinsman, You've led me quite a chase,
You always kept your bags packed, Although you had no fame,
You never owed any man, Or at least I found no bills,
I'm the only one looking, Another searcher I can't find
They said you had a headstone, In a real nice shady plot.
You never wrote a letter, Your bible we can't find,
First you married a Smith, And just to set the tone,
You cost me two fortunes, One of which I did not have,
But somewhere you slipped up Ole Boy, Somewhere you left a track,
I thought I'd found your courthouse. But the Yankees burned the place.
And just for the fun of it, Twice you changed your name.
In spite of eleven offspring, You never left a will.
I pray (maybe that's his fathers name), As I go out of my mind,
I've been there twenty times, And can't even find the lot.
It's probably in some attic, Out of sight and out of mind.
The other four were Sarahs, And everyone a Jones.
My wife, my house and Fido, God, how I miss that Yellow Lab.
And if I don't find you this year, You can bet that I'll be back.
Sad are our hearts, our home is lone, No Doctor's skill, no human power, Yes, Emma, you are free from pain, We cannot think you are gone for aye We'll greet you here on earth no more
( Written by Mrs. Nancy Whitemore )
Since Emma from our threshold's gone
To kindred dear, to schoolmates true,
Dear Emma, we all mourn for you.
Could stay death's hand or parting hour;
But suffering no more racks your breast,
Your work is done- you are at rest.
Our loss is your eternal gain -
For here on earth you'll ne'er return
While we are left to weep and mourn.
While we toil on and watch and pray;
We feel you are in that home above
Where all is joy, and peace, and love.
Until we meet on yon blest shore;
But in that world so bright and fair
We some day hope to meet you there.
The woman answered, "Four." The census taker asked, "May I have their names, please?" The woman replied, "Eenie, Meenie, Minie, and George."
Confused, the census taker said, "May I ask why you named your fourth child 'George'?"
"Surely, because we didn't want any Moe."
My family coat of arms ties at the back ... is that normal?
My hobby is genealogy, I raise dust bunnies as pets.
A family reunion is an effective form of birth control.
After 30 days unclaimed ancestors will be adopted.
Genealogy: Tracing yourself back to better people.
Only a Genealogist regards a step backwards, as progress.
Always willing to share my ignorance ...
Come, look with me inside this drawer, In this box I've often seen,
I wish I knew the people, These strangers in the box,
I wonder what their lives were like, How did they spend their days?
If only someone had taken time, To tell who, what, where, or when,
Could this become the fate, Of the pictures we take today?
Make time to save your stories, Seize the opportunity when it knocks,
At the Pictures, Black and White, Faces proud, still serene
Their Names and all their memories, Are lost among my socks
What about their special times. I'll never know their ways
these faces of my heritage, Would come to life again
The faces and the memories, Someday to be passed away?
Or someday you and yours could be, The strangers in the box
I read of a man who stood to speak. At the funeral of a friend
He noted first her date of birth. And spoke the following date with tears,
For that dash represents all the time, That she spent alive on earth...
For it matters not, how much we own; The cars...the house...the cash,
So think about this long and hard... Are there things you'd like to change?
If we could just slow down enough, To consider what's true and real,
And be less quick to anger, And show appreciation more
If we treat each other with respect, And more often wear a smile..
So, when your eulogy's being read, With your life's actions to rehash...
He referred to the dates on her tombstone. From the beginning...to the end.
But he said what mattered most of all, Was the dash between those years.
And now only those who loved her, Know what that little line is worth.
What matters is how we live and love, And how we spend our dash.
For you never know how much time is left, That can still be rearranged.
And always try to understand, The way other people feel.
And love the people in our lives, Like we've never loved before.
Remembering that this special dash, Might only last a little while.
Would you be proud of the things they say, About how you spent your dash?
I saw a family portrait, Hanging on the wall
Of grandpa's dead and gone, Of uncles big and small.
Now God has a sense of humor, I'm here to tell you all
For what he's done to my Kin, Heaven help us all.
There's Uncle John's huge ears, Set to catch the wind,
And James' one and only eye, And Fred's a'drooling grin.
Grandpa was a beauty, With a large and bushy beard
Sticking out from off his face, Where small creatures seem to live
Now theres assorted Warts and, Humps and bumps, that grow
Just anywhere--accented by body, shapes and all that extra hair.
Not counting Limbs grow askew, Noses the size of a chimney Flue
You should see the ones they choose, To wed and bed and say I do.
Now why do I cry, you ask, Why curse the things that be?
Because every one of my Family's, Traits have all shown up in me!
