I'm proud to say I am a woman of uncommon strength, no doubt passed down from my ancestors who were instilled with courage and conviction, and a vision of dreams to blaze a trail into the New World. Their courageous journeys led them into territories unknown. As they stepped along with fearless feet paving the way, they sacrificed all that they had and had ever known. They instilled the strength and stability that every family member needed in order to hold his or her own and be self sufficient as they lived and conquered the birthing of a new nation. Our mothers showed strength, equality and simplicity while she taught peace and understanding of the value of life. They were visionaries and people of faith, living in harsh times, and always managed to keep the family fed, safe and hopeful. Education always seemed to be the treasure for which our mothers aimed to ensure that we shall never forget the sacrifices made by our fathers and mothers.
The Following article was posted by Dancing with ghosts and I found it describes my genealogy obsession. Comments like "Why do we spend our vacations visiting distant graveyards?" or "Why are we having a picnic lunch in the cemetery?". Here is a well written article that explains it all. Are you the called one in your generation?
"We are the chosen! In each family, there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again. To tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve. Doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the storytellers of the tribe. All tribes have one. We have been called, as it were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us: Tell our story. So, we do. In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a wonderful family; you would be proud of us. How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say. It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who I am, and why I do the things I do. It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying - I can't let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, they’re never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family. It goes to deep pride that the fathers fought and some died to make and keep us a nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love that our mothers struggled to give us birth, without them we could not exist, and so we love each one, as far back as we can reach. That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So, we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are they and they are the sum of who we are. So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take my place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and restore the memory or greet those who we had never known before."