Connections

For the last month of so I have felt like a whirling dervish as I attempt to make connections with living and dead who have crossed my path at some point.  I wonder what that’s all about?

I have long been interested in genealogy, attempting to trace multiple family lines back as far as they will carry me.  I know about ancestors who lived in the remotest parts of Norway in 1200 and how they came forward to my generation.  I’m troubled when I hit a roadblock and am constantly searching for a way around it.

I’ve lately begun serious work on my mother’s family since I pretty much figured out all I’ll ever know about my father’s Norwegian family.  Recently I’ve talked/e-mailed at length with Helen (90), Bob (83), and many others who are somehow distantly related.  One of my Edgar relatives (42) is determined to prove that our family descended from Edgar, King of Scotland.  And maybe we did.  I hope he figures it out.

I’m working hard to convince my son Dan to be interested in his family roots.  I hauled him down to the basement when he was last over to show him old and older photos of his ancestors.

It almost seems like I have the fervor of the Mormons who are trying to trace everyone back and convert them after the fact.  For me, of course, it has nothing to do with religion.  In fact, most of my ancestors would probably turn over in their graves if they knew I had converted to Judaism.  There’s just something about knowing who came before me, where they lived, and even some anecdotes about their lives that would tell me what kind of people these were.

I also find myself reaching out to people I haven’t seen for decades -- people who were once important in my life, people who perhaps influenced the way I view the world. 

I keep hoping this sudden surge to connect isn’t a sign that I’m on the way out, but rather that I simply want to re-establish communication with people I was too busy to seek out for these past decades. 

I feel energized by all this digging and reminiscing.  I’m happy to remember common friends I shared with people, to try to remember the sound of their voices, to only imagine how they must look today having dealt with the aging process just as I have.  I love the feeling of anticipation of a new exchange, a new branch of the family tree completed, a chance perhaps to meet up in person with an old friend who has resurfaced.