in genealogy as one of the paths to enough self-realization to be able to be a more evolved human.
Maybe. I just know I have been searching for and reading anything I could find to state fully that members of my family, some of my kin, no matter how distant, were slave-owners. I tried to talk to my Dad about it at the nursing home. It's my Mom's family, not his (so far). Mine, regardless. I know, of course, that talking with Dad is sometimes "like herding kittens," but he is often sharper than expected. Am I seeing selective dementia? Or did her genuinely want to talk about the pizza I had brought him? How does his brain work at this time of his life? Maybe it's his folksy way of acting as if he never heard me to be polite. (The subject being impossible to process?) Maybe he just couldn't absorb or offer any more sorrow.
The good news is that Georgia may actually have some family that isn't so WHITE. We may have wonderful new relatives that we know nothing about. It would be so interesting to meet them if they had any family history to share to put the puzzle together.
The bad news is how it may have happened. The fear that rape was a part of my family history is worse to me than finding out that there were suicides. And I may never know more; it may not be part of the written record. Which is why it would be great to talk to someone who might have some stories.
Another Crone from Hawaii sent this to me. It's been around in the past, think. But it really resonates with me right now.
'THE WORLD'S SHORTEST FAIRY TALE!
Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl 'Will you marry me?' The girl said: 'NO!'
And the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, camping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn't get fat, traveled more, had many lovers, didn't save money, and had all the hot water to herself. She went to the theater, never watched sports, never wore friggin' lacy lingerie that went up her butt, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was pleasant all the time.
The End
1 comment:
Recently I was visited by an old boy friend - not the marrying kind. Ten years had passed and we spent five days together. We made dinner like old marrieds and found our neuroses unchanged. He laughed when he saw the book on my table, "Cowboys Are My Weakness".
Was this the guy I wrote the gypsy spell about years ago - how we would be eternally bound? Well he's back, and it's been fun. And after five days he flies back home (to the land of Cowboys) End of story.
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