I’ve long been interested in genealogy, perhaps, in part, because as an adoptee I was denied this information. The secrets have been out for a long time, though. Thank goodness. No one should have this information withheld from them—but that’s a rant for another day.
Recently, I put on my sleuth hat and began investigating a branch of my tree that I hadn’t looked at before, focusing on the women because their stories are often left out or glossed over. That, and it’s time to get to know my grandmothers.
I’ve opened a Pandora’s Box that dates back to before the American Revolution, with the potential to keep me busy for the rest of my days sorting it all out. More about all that another time. I’ll share some of my grandmothers with you now and then as I get to know them.
The thing about looking into history is that you encounter heartbreaking stories that leave you both breathless and amazed at the strength of the women who lived them. Case in point: let me tell you a bit about my great-grandmother, Annie. (I’m keeping the facts generic for privacy purposes.)
Annie was born in Ontario in the mid-1800s, the eighth child of her parents. She married a man we’ll call William when she was 26-years-old and gave birth to their daughter the following year.
William and his younger brother, both newly married with young families, headed for California shortly after the birth. Was it gold fever that lured the young men to cross the continent? Who knows. Whatever the reason, he left my great-grandmother behind with their daughter.
She moved in with her sister, a woman who had already buried the man she married at age 18 and had two children with, who had recently remarried.
William and his brother died in California and never returned. Annie died at age 39 from heart valve disease.
What happened to the young girl who was left an orphan? Ah, that’s a story for another day. I will tell you that she lived 90 years, though.
We live in troubled times; there’s no doubt. Looking back at those who came before us makes me pause to consider the strength we’re capable of mustering when we have to.
So interesting to research our roots. You’re right – their lives were certainly not any easier than ours.
I find the stories of those who came before us immensely interesting. Some lived through horrific times.
While I find looking at the stories of those that came before us interesting, and at times sad, it is my oldest son that does the genealogy aspect of my family (seems that my family on the Scots side is easier to trace). He then fills me in on what he finds out.
God bless.
I’d love to hear more about Annie. And, you’ve left us with a cliff hanger! What happened to her daughter?
Unraveling the genetic mysteries is so much fun. I wish I had more time to spend on my family history!
It always boggles my mind at the extreme hardship our ancestors faced coming to this part of the world. And yet so many survived through them all… otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Have fun sleuthing.
Yes. I think we’re all stronger than we sometimes know.