Generations...

It’s funny to me how the things we are drawn to in life can teach us the lessons we need to learn. I have always loved gardening for example. I’m one of those folks who have always had potted plants everywhere but when I bought my home I finally had my own place to have a real garden. I never expected to learn the lessons it would teach me. I learned to let things take their own course instead of trying to control them every day. I can’t make things grow! I learned patience on a much deeper level than I had known. And I learned the importance of a healthy environment in which to allow things to grow. Now, you might think those things are fairly obvious and I should have already known them. I did…in my head. I just didn’t understand them in my being until gardening instilled them in me.

Another thing I’ve always been drawn to, and found so many lessons in, is genealogy. I find it related to gardening in a way. Seeds are planted, plants grow, they bear their fruit and they die. Human life is pretty much the same.

I’ve spent years scouring the countryside for old family photos and stories. I’ve asked everyone I know and met cousins I never knew about. I’ve found other genealogist’s around the country in every branch of family I have. I have to say that as a group they are some of the most generous people I’ve ever encountered. I’ve had people I’ve never met send me reams of information just because I emailed them once!

As I’ve looked into the faces of my ancestors through their photos and heard their stories I’ve learned so many things about myself and about life. Besides just learning where my bald head comes from I’ve learned something of just how temporary this life is. All who came before me were born, lived their lives, and passed on. Sometimes they left their marks in the lives of their descendents. Sometimes the only testimony of their lives are the silent monuments in forgotten cemeteries. They, like all of us, had a certain number of breaths. How they spent them has been largely forgotten.

When I began I wanted to be able to claim a famous ancestor somewhere…someone who had made their mark in history. What I found for the most part were farmers and blacksmiths. Oh, I have one ancestor who fought in the Revolutionary War, another in the War of 1812 and several who fought in the Civil War, including one who served on both sides! None were famous though. I find that I’m just as happy knowing that as if I’d found one who was a king. In a way I’m even happier to know they were all just ordinary people.

The long lines of begotten in the scriptures took on a new significance to me. Adam begat Seth, Seth begat Enos, Enos begat Cainan and so on, down to today. I now see in them a direct connection to God. All of us had ancestors that lived during every event in history. We are all directly connected to the past. Somehow that makes it all more real for me.

I’ve learned in a visceral way that we really are all related. And I’ve learned that we let most family connections just slip away through the years. We forget that we are connected because we become focused on our own day-to-day lives and the people in our immediate families. That’s what family reunions are supposed to remind us of. We are connected. They Re-unite us. I’ve become close to cousins that I never knew existed a year or two ago. I can only wonder what life on earth would be like if we all realized that we’re related. We’re family.

Finally, I’ve realized that what I do as a genealogist is not ultimately for me. The photos and histories I’ve compiled belong to the next generation. They are the lessons yet to be taught...the insights waiting to be shared. I think everything we do should be seen in that light. My garden is healthy because the people who farmed my land before me took care of it. It falls to me to take care of my environment so it will be healthy when I pass it on. It falls to all of us…because our time here is only a few breaths and then we’re gone.