I love family history and have always enjoyed spending time learning about where I come from. But, as anyone who has ever done it will tell you, when the ancestry bug bites you, it is hard to put it down. It can become addictive...but, that just doesn't seem like the right word. Searching out your kindred dead seems like the epitome of what life here is all about. Can something as wonderful as ancestral research be labeled addictive? Yes, it can. But, it can be tempered, as it must when you are not a professional genealogist with hours to spend.
So, last night, I finally followed through on a desire I have had for several years. I drove ten miles to my grandparents home, armed with my laptop with webcam and microphone, and an excitement to know more about them. My grandmother is the one I had intended to interview last night. I hoped to come back in a week or two and talk to my grandfather. But, when grandma and I began talking, suddenly grandpa appeared in his rocking chair across the room. After a while, he began to offer anecdotes of his own. I began turning the laptop back and forth so I could get them both on camera while they were talking.
In all, I recorded two hours of interview. I left, armed with stories from both of them and a new appreciation for the family that I call mine. I am so grateful for the wonderful, imperfect people who are my people. Our stories traveled from England, Ireland, Scotland, Germany and Wales to Dickson, Tennessee and Grampian, Pennsylvania to Germany, Africa and Vietnam. I am so excited to begin making this information available for my family; my children, siblings, parents, cousins, etc.