My mom passed away eight years ago leaving me with pictures and family names. I didn't give it much thought when she was alive. They were my relatives. There were stories told when the siblings got together. Lots of laughter and several, "that's not how it happened" moments. But I was young and didn't pay much attention. After she was gone and I began clearing and packing up, the pictures captured my interest. Who were these people that I shared blood-line with?
So a few years ago I signed up for the freebee Ancestry.com. What did I have to loose? I had a few weeks to check things out. The tools were limited, but I was able to send out a message asking if anyone out there in genologyland had knowledge of two family names I posted. Several weeks later I received a note from someone concerning one of the names. A discouraging little tidbit stating that they knew nothing about the relative I was asking about. Thanks! So much for my search. I chalked it up to, "oh well, that didn't go as planned", and forgot.
Then out of the blue, a few months ago I get an email from - of all things- a second cousin I didn't know even existed. He began his own family search and found my message still on Ancestry.com. A few weeks ago he tells me we have another cousin beginning the process. And now I find that not only do I have a slew of cousins, I have about a dozen great aunts and uncles. The plot keeps thickening with each email between us. As questions are answered, more crop up. It's a roller-coaster of sorts. One answer leads to another question.
This search is addicting! One hour in research leads to another.
Puzzle pieces are falling into place.
I begin to ponder the existence of DNA memory. Does my DNA hold bread crumbs that I can follow, giving me clues to why I hold dear, things I never knew growing up? Is deep calling to deep?
