The Pain Of Genealogy

My father,with my sister and brother-about 1968

After my recent post, I spoke with my sister over the phone. We talked about many things, mainly about our parents, our history and the mystery of  Grandpa Ollie's name, TAYLOR. Which isn't really his name. My sisters are amazing, the encouragement that I get from them to continue blogging and search for our family's past is awesome! They are all my team. Our conversation made me realize something that I never thought of before. That tracing our Genealogy brings pain. I didn't realize that as much as we want to know about our father's past, that it would hurt so many to dig into it?. Pain is definitely the gift that no one wants. 

I think that sometimes the pain of remembering the past is just to difficult for some, especially the elders. They just don't want to talk. They will tell you in a heartbeat that they don't know anything. Short and to the point! like, don't ask me, I don't really want to talk about it. I have heard it so many times before. I was recently asked, "Why in the world would you want to look up dead people? " Yes, that bothered me. However, It does not stop me. I realize that I am supposed to tell their stories.

If you can get them to talk, good for you! Fortunately I was blessed with a grandmother that wanted to share her history and always pushed me to find out more about our ancestors. She once told me about a cousin that had started researching the family and uncovered some big family secret and stopped researching. We never did find out what that secret was. They come from a different generation, when children were seen and not heard. Grandma used to say that you just didn't ask questions back in those days. Oh, if only I would've of been a fly on the wall!

I have learned that there is a method to asking questions, always be respectful and don't push. They talk when they are ready. Be patient. Although digging into our past can sometimes be very painful and feelings and emotions surface that we thought we buried deep in us long ago..The pain becomes a real and necessary process on the journey to finding who we are and where we come from, the struggles our ancestors endured and the sacrifices they made.

The Pain of Genealogy, it's all part of the process as we follow the footsteps of our ancestors. Let go and follow the spirit! 

 

 

© 2013 Denise Muhammad

Finding Home

 

My sister and I

 I never knew much about my father's side of family. My parents had divorced when I was very young.  My mother raised us as a single parent. I grew up with my two younger sisters and two older brothers..Yes, I was the middle child!  Mom, who was the greatest story teller ever!  would tell us stories about her childhood, her family history and my father and his family. Making it like a story, it was fun and exciting, and I loved it! I think that's where it really began, my passion for genealogy. Thanks to my mother. I knew so much about mom's side of the family I decided to start looking for my father's side. I had heard for years that I had other siblings and family in Missouri and I longed to find a connection.


So, I decided to start digging around on Dad's side of the family. My Father, Jesse Carl Taylor, most called him Pete. Was from Washington, Missouri.. he lived in Kansas city. He Passed away in 2000. Armed with my notes from phone conversations with my Paternal Grandmother, Luella Fowler Pryor. And notes from what mom had told me. I began building my tree in Ancestry.com. I made my tree public hoping that a family member would see it.

a few years went by and then one day, Much to my surprise, I received an email from a man who said that he was my father's brother. Although I had never met them, I knew that my father had several siblings. I was beyond excited! he gave me his number and asked that I call him. He explained how he had found my family tree, seeing my Dad's picture on Ancestry.com. We talked over the phone, him telling me all about my father's family. Then he asked me did I know that I had a sister? and my jaw dropped.."No", I replied. He told me that he knew where she was and would put me in contact with her..my heart was beating so fast, I tried not to scream in the phone from excitement!  I called my sisters and told them all about our new found uncle and that we had a sister.

In a matter of  days my sister and I talked over the phone for the first time. That was amazing!  she is a beautiful individual, as are all my sisters.We all have so many similarities. All very artistic..we are Pete's daughters. My youngest sister, was thrilled that she now has a younger sister and can no longer be called the baby of the family..Lol! We finally met each other at the family reunion that summer in St. Louis, Missouri. I met my uncles,who reminded me of my dad., and so many family members. I had found the connection that I longed for. So many tears of joy, I had found my family. I was home.

Uncle Steve, Me,Tiffany

© 2013 Denise Muhammad