Who Are You … Who, Who … Who, Who?

The past few days, I’ve immersed myself into a genealogy project of my own making.  Yes.  Me!  The person who stays so “in the moment” I don’t know what’s for dinner even while I’m cooking it.  Yet, I thought it would be a fun thing to spread it all out before my children and say, “See.  See!  This is why you are so special.”

Inspired by the new TV show on ABC called, Who Do You Think You Are, and a nice introductory offer by Ancestry.com, along with a background and high interest in all things regarding research, I jumped in.  Both feet.  Energetically.  I figured the only difference between the research of my family and that of Brooke Shield’s ancestors is a function of dollars.  She can afford it.  I can’t.

Still, every mother wants her children to know their story.  Every mom who has ever sung Itsy Bitsy Spider to her baby wants him to know which drainpipe he belongs to, the sky from where his rain fell.

And so with nothing more than a few names and dates gathered from a dusty garage box, I started my adventure.

Thanks to Ancestry.com and all those nice folks who let interlopers like me tag onto the research they have already painstakingly done, within three days, this is what I’ve found out about myself:

I’m a Southern Northerner with West Coast, North Eastern roots.  I had lots of illegitimate kids in North Carolina and fought there in the Civil War.  Before that, I lived in an Insane Asylum in Oregon.  I was an original Colonist who fought in the American Revolution.  Obviously, I ate wild turkey, yams and wore a powdered wig.

I am from Canada and Ireland and Scotland and England.  Oh, and some of me from France into England.  I lived in thatched cottages and castles.  I was commoner and King, Lord and Lady, subject and ruler.  I required you to bow.  I genuflected before you.

I stood by you in court when your name was Sir Thomas More because I was a More (or Moore) myself.  I smacked wet clothes on a rock and wailed as my babies died in my arms.   According to the American Genealogical-Biographical Index (AGBI), I am directly descended from SIX Kings of Scotland and, still, I pulled my shawl tighter as the wind came through the chinks in my small cottage.  I pulled up my skirt to cross a puddle and strode across the cloak of my servant.

I died tragically young with a bullet in my head and I lived all the way into my senility.

I am a queen, I am beheaded.

I am a grand, anointed … MUTT.

I am you, I am me.  I am every heartbeat and every breath from as far back as I can find and even farther than that.  I am white and black and brown and yellow.  I am purple.  I am everything and nothing.  I am you.  I am me.

But … Who Are You?  Who, Who … Who Who?????

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