The ones of you with such memories are the lucky ones. Some of us never get to know our fathers. I've written on a2k before about losing contact with mine when I was three, and discovering via my first computer that he died in 1948 at the age of thirty three. Well, not awfully long ago, a first cousin from that side of the family discovered my MyFamily website and sent me innumerable pictures and stories of my parents. There were a number that depicted my father in the three years between parting and day he was murdered that gave some closure. The car he was killed for, him at work in the fields of Oregon, posing with sisters and brothers. Ah, it's great, having a father, at last.
That is both the saddest and most touching thing I've ever heard, EB. I'm at a loss.
The makers of My Family.com have brought together millions of families, mine included. My aunt Thelma struggled for years to find the history of her grand-father to no avail. With the help of her notes and a few short keystrokes, my cousin Pattie and I found the old guy's roots in Virginia in a matter of days.
Calls to mind my first effort. My sister tried long and hard to find my father for me. (She's a half sister). The first day I used my first computer, I typed in his full name and hit search. There he was on a family tree on MyFamily. Seems my sister had juxtaposed the first and middle names. Only thing, the owner of the family tree would not cooperate in letting me have information. That is why I had to wait additional years to get the info from my cousin.
I know too much about my family background, Joe, but to this day, my father is the only one that I have been with at the point of death. Strange, because I certainly was not one of his favorites. Odd to me that edgar would know Don't Let the Deal go Down, because I sang that with him as he lay dying.
Fantastic story, Joe. Kudos.
Joe, good point about listening to the stories when the stories are slipped in. I am lucky enough to have known 3 of my grandparents into adulthood. My last biological grandparent just died. I have watched my parents (and aunts/uncles) struggle with seeing their parents age and die. I can only hope that my parents both are healthy and happy until the day they die. Not likely it'll happen, but it's my foolish wish.
I nearly ducked out of this thread when I realised what it was all about, as I have had a dose too much of this loss stuff happening recently.
Your writing just drew me in though, Joe. Brilliant.
My Dad died when I was 20, exactly three months after I had got married and left home. He was on his own after I left, and didn't let on as to how unwell he had become. He was diabetic, his heart was weak and he suffered from oedema.
We paid a visit about a week before he died, and immediately realised that he was in a bad way. We talked to him about coming to live with us, and he agreed straight away. This was confirmation that things were serious, as he was usually stubborn about such things, and placed great value on his independence.
It was arranged that my wife would drive up to the house and pick him up, as I was working. We had a flat (apartment) above my place of work, and had decorated a bedroom for him, purchased a bed and decked it out with new bedlinen.
When my wife got there she found him in a chair, as if he was just taking a nap.
He had washed all of his clothes and cleaned the house from top to bottom, which was obviously too much for his heart to take.
We had told him that we would do it all for him, but he was obviously determined to do it himself.
I know it sounds weird, and is obviously just genetics, but my Dad lives on in my son. They have exactly the same character, same style of humour, same voice, same jaw line and, what first alerted me to the fact that they are so similar, exactly the same sneeze.
They never met, but would have got on famously.
Odd, but just before I checked out this thread--great writing, Joe--a crow flapped in and perched on a maple branch outside my window. I assumed a personal message from Morrigan is on the way.
Not all battlefields are war zones.
Isn't genetics the great restorer? For Lord (and thank you for reading) Ellpus, it's the sneeze that proves the match, and there is that same sense of continuance, of continuity, that somehow reassures us that life is indeed going on.
In my genealogy work (it's really just a small hobby but the J Family is huge,) there are times when a family ends, the names stop. We are connected to them as cousins once or twice removed, but the sons of the uncle have no children, the daughters never marry, there is a record of another brother, but he is found to have died early in life. So that is that for that branch of the tree, it just ends unconnected to the future.
Except that it isn't so. My mother's family barely has any descendants, none that I know of who carry her father's name, but recently my brother's wife had a baby and from across the room I could see she had my mother's eyes and my grandfather's Irish chin.
Joe(and where did all the red hair arrive from?)Nation
My sister is the family historian. I always thought my grandfather was full of it when he said we were related to Babe Ruth, but she proved he was on my maternal grandmother's side, some sort of cousin.
The crow returned, dug up the stale bagel the dog buried, and flew away.
Omens and portents. Omens and portents.
On the other hand, I have not been able to link L's family to either a famous teller of children's stories (A looong told family story and point of pride) nor the writer of many "Southern" ballads. And my family is only tangentially related to a boxing great.
Mostly we folks are just folks.
Joe(Mostly, except for the horse thieves)Nation
That one guy I could mention is so distant, I probably don't have a single shared gene. Talk about common, we were migrant farm workers.
A damn Yankee with ancestors from Virginia? Hey, Joe. We may be kissing cousins. UhOh. <smile>
My ancestors on my dad's side were run out of Germany for pillaging and plundering.
That little tidbit was discovered by my aunt when she was doing some family research.
Gus, somtimes you slip into a serious mode. I like what you're wearing. It's so you.
Noddy24 wrote:The crow returned, dug up the stale bagel the dog buried, and flew away.
Omens and portents. Omens and portents.
I think we need a group interpretation of these signs.
Joe(hmmm stale bagel buried by canine)Nation
gustavratzenhofer wrote:My ancestors on my dad's side were run out of Germany for pillaging and plundering.
That little tidbit was discovered by my aunt when she was doing some family research.
Maybe WE are the cousins... .
Smooches to Letty too.
Joe(Never let a connection go by)Nation
