I am obsessed with finding the stories of my ancestors.
As I search, it makes me realize that I need to record the stories of my family.
My paternal grandmother…who loved me so deeply and so dearly told me many years ago, a story of when she was a girl living in Shamokin, Pennsylvania. She would play out behind a big rock with the broken household dishes and her doll.
I have this lovely picture in my mind of her long, brown hair tied back in a bow…a sunny day and a girl with dreams of a perfectly proper household. It is the only story I have of her growing up. What did she hope for? Did she get it?
I found out via my paternal great grandmother’s marriage record, that she had previously married a younger man, was divorced and then worked in a cigar factory prior to marrying my great grandfather! This was back in the late 1800’s. She was a rebel for her time.
Perhaps our current obsession with TV and movies has to do with our search for “story”. But do we know our own stories? Why not? The search continues.