Back in June, we bought a DNA kit for the Mr. from Ancestry.com. He has been waning to learn more about his lineage for quite some time now, and being the history nerd that he is, it made a perfect Father’s Day gift. His immediate research found so much information on both his maternal and paternal history in the US and Europe. He’s been able to identify ancestors that were Scottish Lords, multiple ones that fought and died in the Battle of Gettysburg, lived at the Jamestown Settlement, and even has found a traceable line to the Eastwood family. Yeah, that Eastwood family.
One thing that the Mr’s original DNA test did not show was a native American ancestry line which has been described to him for as long as he can remember. I’ll be honest: I was kind of glad. It doesn’t make me an asshole, but…okay, maybe I’m an asshole, whatever. Everyone likes to believe they have native American ancestry and it’s only natural–people have been inter-mingling since the beginning off mingles. Today, he was able to solidly trace his line back to Cherokee ancestry. I’m jealous.
I’m jealous as shit.
I’m not not happy for him. Some of the names are so kick ass and I’m excited for him. We joked that he was going to be insufferable from here on out and I can’t blame him. He is incredibly enthusiastic about every bit of it and coincidentally, his paternal family is having a reunion in September. It’s the first one he’s been able to attend since becoming an accountant approximately 100 years ago. It’s always right in the middle of September which coincides with a corporate tax deadline. Now that he’s his own boss, he’s finally allowed a day off from time to time.
But having one person’s family tree be so…full, so to speak. Imagine an ancient oak tree, deep roots, full canopy, full of life and stories and history. That would be his tree. And then there’s mine:
It’s no one’s fault that I have little knowledge of my biological family. Some things my parents didn’t even know about or was upsetting enough to not discuss. I jokingly told the Mr. I was going to start getting random pictures of old Chinese and Thai people and frame them. That is not something that is below me in the least. I had a picture of The Godfather framed in my home for years when I was younger and on my own.
After the Cherokee thing, I thought it was about time that I started my “search” for my ancestry, i.e.: Googling pictures of people I don’t know. Here are some that I picked:
As far as I know, none of these people are related to me by any clear distinction. Also, The Handmaiden is a movie and the actors are Korean, so there’s that. Better than all of those, but two people that I know less about than I should admit:
Being me isn’t so bad. <3