Family history has been a big hit for a few years now. I guess we all want to know our history, find our roots.
In my case I wanted to see if I took after them, if we had changed as humans, I also wanted to delve deeper into their life’s and find out what they were like as people. What jobs they carried out. I must admit I was also interested in their deaths.
In history people lived much shorter lives. Why was that the case?
I had heard stories of house fires and losing all their children. Also diamonds, the gold rush and birth outside of wedlock. A big no no in my family !
I wanted to find out how true these were. I got my answers and more.
It became a passion.
A buzz if I’m honest. Every piece of history uncovered became part of me.
But what really was I looking for, I hadn’t met these people and never would, how would I know from facts, data and certificates if I took after them.
Was the real question, deeper in my mind. Was it the fact that I didn’t know who my birth father was, is that why I needed to find as much as I could about my roots.
If that was the case, wasn’t I just making the longing to know my real dad more painful, the more I knew about my mum’s family, the more I wanted to know about my dad, with little response from family members. Sure they were happy to give me information and stories from their own memories and information that they had been told, but when I slipped in a question about my dad, no light was given.
I couldn’t understand why they would hold the information, why they didn’t want me to know.
Thinking back now, I’m guessing this rubbed off on me.
I kinda kept things to myself and learnt the hard way how bad this is.
But I’m learning to open up and share.
It’s made me think,
have my family always been closed books?
Has it been drilled into us since our history began?
Can I really be the one to break the habit?
I think I can, well I’m having a good go.
So here’s to a new open path ahead of me.
I’m kicking this habit, with all I have.
Go me 🙂