May 26th, 2010 by IamDraven
So one of the biggest of my post break up projects?
Yes yes y’all motherfuckers. My family tree. I decided I may never find out my biological family, so make the most of my adoptive one. I expected nothing. I know Mom’s side is German and Dad’s side is royalty from a line of Duke’s in England. Both sides were farming families. Thought if I was lucky I’d just barely get past my great grandparents.
I was wrong. Very wrong. A little bit of $ given to a website for access to historical records and I’ve hit the jackpot. What you can’t see from this screen shot is how far back I’ve gotten. I still have a lot of work to do but the stats start at this. (Mind you I’ve only gotten family history from both of my Grandmother’s sides of the family.)
1204 Family Members
253 Photos
11 Generations back on my Maternal Grandmother’s side. (DOB 1635, Baden-Weurttrmberg, Germany)
6 Generations back on my Maternal Grandfather’s side. (DOB 1825)
9 Generations back on my Paternal Grandmother’s side. (DOB 1700, Palatinate, Germany)
4 Generations back on my Paternal Grandfather’s side. (DOB 1865)
I found a wealth of photos from the 1800’s my Aunt didn’t know she had and I lucked out finding a ledger taking Paternal Grandmother’s family back to 1762.
My Dad’s parents both died before I was born and I never got to know them. After ironing out different names I’ve decided Grandpa and Grandma will work. Not quite as formal as Grandmother/father or their first names, but almost as if I knew them. In fact I feel as if I know them now. My Grandma especially. I think she would have liked me. She was a fierce, protective, strong old broad, and I’d like to think I’ve taken after her. She diagnosed her own Cancer before the doctors figured it out, but she also had her own demons (from our big, gnarly skeleton), and had a failed suicide attempt on the day President Kennedy was assassinated.
There are things I found out about that my family has buried. I was always told to get married before I had babies. The amount of illegitimate children and shotgun weddings in my family is astounding. Also, the rate of infant mortality in my own line is heartbreaking. I cried reading some of the ledger listings.
My cousin had a baby as a teenager and gave it up. He recently tracked down my Aunt (his Grandmother) but his biological Mother doesn’t want to see him. The biggest crime? Her other two children have no idea they have a half brother and nephews out in the world. It’s everything I can do not to tell them. It’s fine if she doesn’t want to face her transgressions, but it’s not fair to keep that from the other family members who deserve to know.
The biggest skeleton knocked the wind out of me literally. My Aunt was on the verge of having to get me smelling salts. Right now I’m even having palpitations thinking of how I’m going to tell you this dear readers. Shall I let you guess? Should I come right out and say it?
What’s the worst thing that can happen in a family? What can one family member do to another that’s so unspeakable that even today in 2010 it brings shame and hushed tones and leads to other family members refusing to discuss it, their only acknowledgment being ‘we will never talk about this as long as I’m alive’?
Even worse. What if that horrible act creates life? What if that life is nurtured and becomes a healthy child? What if that child is raised in that same family, possibly never even knowing the unspeakable act that created her? What if I know know this? The villain sire in this story is long dead, but those affected still live. They are my family. The pain I live with being given up is nothing to the pain this could cause. While I believe that even though the truth may kill you, it’s better to be cleansed. So how will I sit here for the rest of my life harboring this horrible knowledge and wondering if I should tell?
Simply, it’s not my truth to tell. Now that I’m the family historian I’ll document it, and keep it under the branches of our family tree. But one day, things might change. It’s hidden, but I just brushed the dirt over it. If you look close enough at my work the glaring truth is right there for you to find.
There was a little girl at your wedding. So little she caught the bouquet and didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. What if one day, many years later she was all grown up and walked up to you and said “I know who your Father is”?
