Please Remember Me

Part of you will live in me
Way down deep inside my heart
--Tim McGraw

My love, my passion, is my genealogy. I could do it all day long, for days on end. In fact, when my school is on break and I need to completely shut down, I do lose myself in my genealogy for days on end. It's a hobby I share with my cousin. I have a computer program that lets me organize everyone and all their data. I can even load photographs if I have them.

I know who is connected to whom, and I work on filling in as much detail as I can on each person--more than just their birth date and death date. I've collected church records, census records, newspaper articles, obituaries, and anything else I can find online. Local histories often have information that helps bring my ancestors to life.

Over the years I have collected (often by default) many of the family records and documents. My great-great-grandfather became a doctor during the Civil War. I put his medical certificates in antique frames and have them on display in my living room. I have cross-stitch samplers my great-grandmother made. I have autograph books from another ancestor. There is a set of daguerreotypes from one line of the family that I treasure. Most importantly, however, are all documents I have.

I have over a dozen 3-ring notebooks that hold indentures (contracts) that pre-date the American Revolution. There are maps and deeds and wills. I have a zillion IOUs that provide a window into the business dealings of my ancestors in the early 1800s. I have letters written during the Civil War. I have love letters and poems and diaries. I have sketches and photographs. There are angry letters, divorce decrees, and torn-up wills. There are death certificates and birth announcements. Wedding invitations and report cards. Scrap books and baby books.

Years ago, I contacted some historical societies and universities in New York (where most of the history in these documents is noted) asking if they were interested in photographing or scanning or somehow preserving them for others. While I have a personal interest in these documents, it seems a shame that the local history available in these documents is closed up in a notebook on my closet shelf. Every place I talked to expressed an interest but said there was no budget for such replication. Years later, my cousin and I are partnering to get these items identified and scanned ourselves. Actually she is doing most of the work; I am just mailing them off to her periodically.

We both still plug away at our research. Trying to fill in the holes in our genealogy and solve the mysteries on the things that don't make sense. Every once in a while one of us has an aha! moment, or a break-through, or a hunch that pays off. And we go through our family documents periodically for clues. What didn't make sense a few years ago might have new meaning now that we have more information. It's my love of history combined with my love of a good mystery--and it's addicting because it never ends.

Another thing I do for my research from time to time is visit cemeteries. There is a wealth of information on headstones. My girls grew up spending a fair amount of time walking around cemeteries with me. They're beautiful places. One of the most beautiful I've ever been in is Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC where my great-grandparents are buried. I was saddened to find out they have no head stone. Some day I'd like to get them one so they are remembered.

I think of all my ancestors as being a part of me, and with me always. And remembered.