A Process Break

 

There are some moments when the mind cannot tolerate staying focused long enough to trace even the most obvious of family relationships. This is one of those times.

Yesterday afternoon, I had to say a difficult goodbye to my longstanding companion and self-proclaimed "senior editor" of A Family Tapestry, Luke. Though I knew the day would eventually come, it was still  more difficult than I anticipated it would be. 

If you have been following along here from nearly the beginning, you may have recalled meeting Luke at the wrap-up of the year when I began blogging. He had often been at my side, inspecting my commentary as it crossed the computer screen. In this past year when life became more difficult for him, he still remained in his special spot next to my work space. It's hard to take my seat to write and realize his place is empty.

After that final goodbye, I gave some thought to the pets of our ancestors, and wondering if we would understand our relatives better if we knew more about their pets (if they had any). I can still clearly remember my mother's stories about her childhood pet, a black Scotty named Jo-Jo, and all the trouble his stubborn tenacity could land him in. But even trying to divert attention to family stories right now just doesn't measure up to the need of the moment.

I know so many of us who pursue our family history are also fond of our pets. In online meetings, I sometimes see the swish of a telltale tail across the screen as someone's cat jumps up on the table--expectedly or not. They are in our lives, and in their small way make our lives more pleasant, more enjoyable--but they are gone in such a short while, no matter how much we might miss them.

If that is the case for us, I'm quite sure those who filled our past generations might have known such attachments, as well. And yet, those dearly held feelings often turn out, in the long run, to be as ephemeral as the trinkets of life accumulated in a junk drawer. Could that ever be something to share about an ancestor? To write down as part of that relative's story? How do you trace something as fleeting as feelings?

Sometimes, people ask the question, "But what should I write?" The answer always is, "Write what you know." Even if, today, that is all I know.