The older I get, the more people I lose.
The souls who are now on “the other side” are adding up, while the ones who remain are starting to dwindle. As a genealogical researcher, I have always felt connected to the past. When I discover the name of an ancestor, it breaths life into them once more. The meager details I can garnish from the documents left behind, along with the historical details I uncover on the times and places within which they lived, fill in a bit more.
These people lived, cried, laughed, and died and then they were forgotten. But through my research, they live again. No future generation will know my grandparents, but I did. No future generation will know my parents, aunts and uncles, but I did. They were real. They are not just names to me and I don’t want them to be just names to you.
Someday, my name will be added to that list. If not for my writing, I would be forgotten too. So let it be said, I lived, I cried, and I laughed.
(Theresa Dodaro is the author of The Tin Box Trilogy @ http://www.theresadodaro.com)