We are the chosen.

My feelings are 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 storytellers 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 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 bones 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 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 my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young
and old to step up and put flesh on the bones.

(unknown)

(Thanks, Claudia, for this)

 

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“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants”

 

(Sir Isaac Newton, 1675)

(Thanks to Brother John for his Trojan groundwork)

 

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The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,

Awaits alike th’inevitable hour,

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

 

Extract taken from “Elegy written in a Country Churchyard” by Thomas Gray

 

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