Genealogy, I Am Doing It!

Genealogy is the BIGGEST thrill. Most people don't really get that feeling until they're, let us say, 73. I started getting the Family History bug around 13, about 60 years too early. The only good part about starting young is that you can get much more information because your relatives haven't all died yet! Even though I end up spending much more time on it than I really have, I feel like it's an eternal work - a work that REALLY matters, unlike so much of what we do in this life.

Right now I've decided to start working on descendancy instead of ascendancy (that is, descendants instead of ancestors.) My grandparents and their generation have done most of my ascendancy work. At least, as much as can be done without lots of money, professional genealogists, and world travel. Descendancy work is much harder, in my opinion, because their birth and death records are protected by privacy laws, while your ancestors' vital records are now public. It's very rewarding, though, to find a cousin and communicate about your common family. I've met a few cousins who are shirt-tail relatives, to say the least, but they are still FAMILY. You have an instant connection - the same feeling I have when I meet someone who is a member of the church. Even if it's my first time meeting them there's immediately a foundation to build on. The creepy thing is when they start sending pictures, and you see yourself, or your parents, or your grandparents, in that person's features.

I'm also lucky to have an outrageously enormous family. Not my immediate family - just one sister - but my parents both had lots of siblings, whose parents had lots of siblings, and everybody keeps having kids. Then you can start to factor in step-relations, or in-laws, or in-laws of in-laws...gets pretty messy.

Most of my ancestors hail from Scandanavia. That's wonderful, of course, but I get the sinking feeling that learning to speak Swedish may be in my future. Worse things could happen.

And speaking of my enormous family...our Sweet Baby Hunter Bunter is calling to me. It's not a cooing, "come talk to me, Mom" cry, it's a "get me OUT this crib before I blow up!" type of cry. Better go.