I could do genealogy stuff all day long -- and all night long, too. I love to read about it, I love to do it, I love to think about it, I love to learn about it and I love to talk about it.
But when I try to talk to my hubby about it. I watch his eyes glaze over and he looks like a wolf with his foot caught in a trap. I thought maybe he's just not interested in MY family. Maybe I could find out about his family and that would pique his interest.
"Here," I said. "Here is the manifest for when your family came to Ellis Island. That whole thing about changing the family name from Bischoff to Bishop? Yeah, that's not so. Your family was Bishop before they came over. Your grandfather was married twice did you know that? He joined up with his brother in Richland, did you know that. Did you know that Uncle Tom worked at a celery plant? Here's a copy of the 1920 Federal Census. Here's your family. Your dad hasn't been born yet..."
His eyes glazed over and he looked like a wolf with his foot caught in a trap.
This weekend I was reading Your Guide to Cemetery Research by Sharon DeBartolo Carmack. In it she writes:
"Did you know that scientists have isolated the gene that makes
certain people predisposed to an interest in genealogy and cemeteries?"
All my life I've been attracted to cemeteries. I thought it was because my parents died when I was so young and there were many times I'd drive out to the cemetery, lay down between their graves and think. It was probably the only place I could go to hide. When my kids were little, and we happened to be back in Michigan when there was snow, I'd take them to the cemetery with me and we'd make snow angels. That resulted in the fact that my kids like cemeteries, but I don't think any of them give a rip about genealogy. Maybe that's because they have been lucky enough to have close family still alive and up in their businesses.
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