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The Genealogy of Ancestors
I just returned from a short visit to the three
adjacent counties in Southern Indiana where my
father's family was raised for three generations
past. The visit was just the latest in a nearly
twenty year tour of the genealogy of my ancestors.
Given that my father died when I was a very young
boy and that there was literally no family to help
the trace, this quest has required a lot of patient
research. Through this process I have discovered
many things that have added to the memories of my
youth and defined this mysterious man called father
well within the story that I have created about him
and hence the story of my own existence.
There is a place within of deep calm and fond
acceptance of this man who I never really knew in
life but have come to call my best friend in the
ethers that serve to keep us sane and balanced in
the ever increasing madness that surrounds us. But
walking around and through the overgrown misty
cemeteries of the rolling Indiana hills, I let go
of dad and found myself involved in the discovery
of the dozens of faceless distant aunts, uncles,
cousins and others whose names I share but whose
lives I couldn't possibly know. Worn and weathered
headstones from 1790, 1845 1898, 1907, years that
only exist on tombstones but that mark a spot in
history that should never be forgotten and in some
way honored, if only for a moment.
Something changed in me during that trip and I'm
not sure quite what it was. Perhaps, now that I can
get into any movie in town for half price as an
elder, I am more respectful of the inevitability of
death; or perhaps it is just that age brings with
it a slowing down and morenatural order to the
chaos that keeps the unimportant mixed with the
important and the lines of separation so fuzzy as
to be unidentifiable. I don't know if there were
spirits available to me there, and I don't know if
I experienced some kind of communication that
opened my eyes to a mystery or two that still needs
to be assimilated. Some of that may have happened,
but I have another thought that is a bit more
comfortable at the moment. That is the sense that I
now know where my DNA has been.
During the trip I had the opportunity to spend a
couple of days in a small local museum and read the
obituaries of many of my ancestors and talked to
people who actually knew many of the family. Most
of them were farm folks and didn't stray too far. I
read accounts of their high school activities,
their church affiliations and how respected they
were as people, community members and
neighbors.
I think I am processing a recognition of what it
is to be real...to be of the land and its people.
Sure there are a lot of twelve foot high pick up
trucks and rednecks who look at a stranger with a
quizzical eye; sure life is simple there but the
people smile a lot and everyone waves at you as you
pass by. It doesn't seem to matter that they don't
know you. I live in the city...a big city...and no
one ever waves at me here.
Today I went out for a ride and as I passed a
few cars in traffic, I waved. No one waved back. A
few looked at me with a very blank stare. Most just
pretended they didn't see me. But I think that I
learned something at those cemeteries; that it
doesn't really matter if they wave back or not. My
recognition of them is what is important. It's
important to me and whether they know it or not,
it's important to them. No one waved back at the
cemetery either. If there were spirits attached to
those tombstones, I think they were happy that I
was there and if they could have waved, I'm sure
they would have... or did.
And perhaps they are not much more dead than
many of us who are still breathing and don't wave
back.
© 2007, Kenneth F.
Byers
Other Transition Issues,
Books
* * *
A permanent state of transition is man's most
noble condition. - Juan Ramon Jimenez
Ken Byers
holds a Ph.D. in psychology with an emphasis in
Men's Studies, one of the few ever awarded in the
U.S. Ken is a full time Certified Professional Life
Coach specializing in working with men in any form
of transition and an instructor of design at San
Francisco State University.
His books, "Man
In Transition" and
"Who
Was That Masked man
Anyway" are widely
acknowledged as primers for men seeking deeper
knowledge of creating awareness and understanding
of the masculine way. More information on Ken, his
work and/or subscription information to the weekly
"Spirit Coach" newsletter which deals with elements
of the human spirit in short commentary, check the
box at www.etropolis.com/coachken/
or www.etropolis.com/coachken/what.htm
or www.etropolis.com/coachken/speak.htm
or E-Mail
You are welcome to share any of Ken's columns with
anyone without fee from or to him but please credit
to the author. Ken can be reached at:
415.239.6929.
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