A Time to Remember

Although, I am skeptical about most things religious, whatever that religion may be, I can say that I have always been tuned into remembering my ancestors.  October is the month I feel it most strongly and indeed a quick study of human nature will show that I am not alone in this practice.

Part of my personal draw comes from not knowing my paternal grandparents, both passing away before my entrance to this world.  My father’s family in particular, got hit hard during the depression, losing an eleven-year-old daughter to pneumonia and my grandmother’s departure a few short years later of breast cancer.  My father was only ten when his mother died, leaving him with vague stories of her that he did not like to think on, because of the hurt it caused him.  My grandfather passed away in his late 50’s, and I didn’t arrive on the scene until four years after his passing.

There seemed to be somewhat of a secrecy around those that left, and of all things I love most, is a mystery.  It’s what set me on the journey to discover my father’s family, and what’s kept me on the journey to discover my mother’s family.  My mother’s side was very diligent about writing in their bibles, the names and dates of babies born, and deaths.  The path was a bit easier, but MUCH more populated!  I hail from good Irish/Scottish farmer stock on my mother’s side, and those farmers had LOTS of kids to help on the farm.

With my second cousin (once removed) as the driving force, I have embarked upon a literary accounting of these Irish/Scottish folk who traveled to Canada back in the 1800’s to find a better life, and settled the wilds of Ontario.  The name of this literary accounting is “Our Wiley Connection”.  It is not a novel, but a genealogical accounting with little wee stories thrown in, as we’ve collected them.  But it sets my mind to wandering through the ages.  I am not sure if they haunt me, or I haunt them.

“Our Wiley Connection” starts out with a family from Northern Ireland.  All the grown siblings decide to come to “the new world” to make a new start.  Some already have grown children of their own; some are carrying babies on the long journey.  Over the course of 5 years, the entire clan comes over to Canada, and bringing up the rear are the parents with the youngest son, who is but 15 years old.  Tragedy strikes at the start of our tale, with the death of both the father and the mother who die once they reach the shores of Quebec, leaving the youngest son to bury both his parents in this new world, and make his way on foot to his brother’s farm several hundred miles away.  It is the story of pioneers settling a new land, and those same pioneers traveling even further west to make a living, or for a better piece of land.  But above all else, it’s a true story, based on my ancestors. 

I follow this family of ten children, only seven of which have children, through eight generations, to present day.  One of the seven dies in Ireland, but her husband takes her children, first to Canada, and then on to Iowa where they settle the wilds of the United States.  I learn much history along the way, and I meet many folks who are cousins or distant cousins.

Usually, I do a book review and perhaps an article for this e-zine.  I hope you forgive my shameless self promotion of the book I am writing that will be published in December.  Will it be something that you’ll want to run right out and purchase?  I doubt it.  Would you flip through it if it was on someone’s coffee table?  Maybe.  Is it my excuse for not contributing to this e-zine until after December?  Yes, yes it is!

So until next year, dear readers, I leave you to your own devices.  Please remember to VOTE, and read a book, it’s good for the soul!

Loopy