Ok.....deep breath.....
I don't know why I am nervous because frankly anybody reading this is someone I've invited here, which means I trust you.
I just celebrated my 53rd Birthday a short while ago.
I am 53 years old.
Still trying to wrap my head around that one!
I am 53 years old and I haven't accomplished a whole hell of a lot in this world.
I am 53 years old, parts of my life and psyche are a mess and I have issues. I know everyone has issues. And my issues may not be anywhere near as bad/big/demoralizing/crushing as the ones some other folks have, but they are real to me and they are seemingly insurmountable at least in my own head.
I feel I am the victim of bad parents.
I have always felt disconnected from my family because of my age and how I was raised.
I have often felt I was not loved growing up, at least in that unconditional "we love you no matter what" way parents are suppose to love their kids. Now I am not saying that this is how my parents felt or were toward me. It's just the impression I had as a child and it's how I view my life in regard to my parents and immediate family.
Add in that one side of my family kept many things hidden away.....those skeletons in the closet one hears about.
Yes, we've got skeletons.....not as big as some people's skeletons but skeletons nonetheless. Keeping secrets has divided generations of people. Maybe that's why I have always felt alone in my life?
I have always felt that there is more to where I came from but little information was every given to me about about some of the people I came from.
I have always loved history and puzzles.
Then 2 things happened to goad me to finally take this step.
First my oldest brother died. He had a stroke in January of 2009 and fell into a coma, eventually dying in June of 2010, never having regained consciousness. When he had the stroke he had just turned 58.
Our immediate family has never communicated well and now it was down to just me and my other brother left. There was so much family history I could not get back the time to find out about.
Back a couple of years ago a show came on tv called "Who Do You Think You Are?".
It is/was about celebrities having their ancestors traced to discover who they were and how they got to where they are.
I found it fascinating! At that point in my life I knew a few of the family stories but hadn't really done much to put the genealogy pieces together and collect the side stories of our family's history.
Now at 53, I feel my time on this Earth is running low and I'd better get busy on this project to discover who I am and where I came from.
Besides leaving something behind for my children for when they finally decide to take a look at where they came from, I want to get my thoughts and feelings out into the open on my own psychological issues. Not that anyone cares or wants to hear this crap but I think typing it out here will serve some therapeutic need in me and help me to one day heal the very real as well as imagined wounds I feel.
To this end, I have finally broken down and paid for a subscription to Ancestry.com.
If you know how spending money on stuff pains me, you know how important to me paying for the honor of poking through old documents to find the missing pieces of my family on that site is.
So let the flinging of the closet doors open and the whining about my miserable life begin!
Sluggy
I don't know why I am nervous because frankly anybody reading this is someone I've invited here, which means I trust you.
I just celebrated my 53rd Birthday a short while ago.
I am 53 years old.
Still trying to wrap my head around that one!
I am 53 years old and I haven't accomplished a whole hell of a lot in this world.
I am 53 years old, parts of my life and psyche are a mess and I have issues. I know everyone has issues. And my issues may not be anywhere near as bad/big/demoralizing/crushing as the ones some other folks have, but they are real to me and they are seemingly insurmountable at least in my own head.
I feel I am the victim of bad parents.
I have always felt disconnected from my family because of my age and how I was raised.
I have often felt I was not loved growing up, at least in that unconditional "we love you no matter what" way parents are suppose to love their kids. Now I am not saying that this is how my parents felt or were toward me. It's just the impression I had as a child and it's how I view my life in regard to my parents and immediate family.
Add in that one side of my family kept many things hidden away.....those skeletons in the closet one hears about.
Yes, we've got skeletons.....not as big as some people's skeletons but skeletons nonetheless. Keeping secrets has divided generations of people. Maybe that's why I have always felt alone in my life?
I have always felt that there is more to where I came from but little information was every given to me about about some of the people I came from.
I have always loved history and puzzles.
Then 2 things happened to goad me to finally take this step.
First my oldest brother died. He had a stroke in January of 2009 and fell into a coma, eventually dying in June of 2010, never having regained consciousness. When he had the stroke he had just turned 58.
Our immediate family has never communicated well and now it was down to just me and my other brother left. There was so much family history I could not get back the time to find out about.
Back a couple of years ago a show came on tv called "Who Do You Think You Are?".
It is/was about celebrities having their ancestors traced to discover who they were and how they got to where they are.
I found it fascinating! At that point in my life I knew a few of the family stories but hadn't really done much to put the genealogy pieces together and collect the side stories of our family's history.
Now at 53, I feel my time on this Earth is running low and I'd better get busy on this project to discover who I am and where I came from.
Besides leaving something behind for my children for when they finally decide to take a look at where they came from, I want to get my thoughts and feelings out into the open on my own psychological issues. Not that anyone cares or wants to hear this crap but I think typing it out here will serve some therapeutic need in me and help me to one day heal the very real as well as imagined wounds I feel.
To this end, I have finally broken down and paid for a subscription to Ancestry.com.
If you know how spending money on stuff pains me, you know how important to me paying for the honor of poking through old documents to find the missing pieces of my family on that site is.
So let the flinging of the closet doors open and the whining about my miserable life begin!
Sluggy
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