Ancestors

As I flipped the date on my block calendar this morning, the date struck me. Today is not a particularly striking date that I know of for me, personally. It is because of the day itself. Thoughts triggered in my mind and began ricocheting around, tripping the wires of memories and deep thought.
Today’s date is of no special significance to me, but it is to others in the world. Dates of birth, death, anniversaries, engagements, promotions, of being fired. So many possibilities. With 7 billion people in the world, this date is noteworthy to many. I have my own dates. My Mom-Carole’s birthday is Monday; the 17th. My best friend from high school days has her birthday the 13th. My mom married her 2nd husband sometime in September; I have no idea of the date now, but I used to know when I was a pre-teen. Of course, Americans have the memory dates of Labor Day, and no small, easy memory, September 11.

It made me think of Mom-Carole’s birthdate in 1936. Of my mom’s in 1942. Of My great-grandmother’s in 1898, and my thoughts continued farther back. The other day in meditation class, Beth, my wonderful instructor-friend, mentioned our ancestors – not just the recent ones we know of and can remember, but farther back – 50 generations, maybe. I am proud to have Native American blood from both sides; my paternal great-grandmother was full blooded Mohawk. My maternal aunt, while doing our family tree was able to trace ancestors back from one branch back to the 1500s coming from Holland. Along the way she discovered those settlers new to America obtained Mohawk offspring, so I have it on both sides, and it makes me proud. It was easy, with Beth’s instruction, to imagine those fierce, wild, wonderful women dancing around a bonfire – hair swinging, mocassined feet touching the earth, stomping, shuffling, living their lives and passing on their own past to future generations. I could feel that connection deep within me, and it makes me feel bolder, more connected, more in tune with myself. I cannot help but feel those distant ancestors would approve of who I am today.

We are survivors, all of us. We all have histories that have brought us to where we are right now, to who we are right now. Each of us have past generations that began farther back than any of us can grasp in the realm of our imagination. Somewhere back into the far reaches of time life began then bloomed and spread. We evolved, and even if we are believers in the Creation or Evolution it doesn’t matter. Each of us has evolved from which ever creation myth our religion says, or from what science believes; we have evolved from those first persons, on and on and on, forward, 

to who we are today.





Each of us have ancestors who lived, breathed, died and passed those genes forward – good, bad, or indifferent. We are who we are because of them. Each one of them endured, thrived, suffered; they lived for us. To have a small glimmer of those who can before me so long ago was such a gift, and such a special, eye opening moment for me. I felt connected to the past, and I felt empowered for my future. I am not able to pass on pieces of my DNA to future generations, but I can pass on other parts of myself. One day my words and thoughts will make a difference to someone who will either read them or feel them in their soul. My nieces, my nephews, my cousins – they all pass on blood that has been part of our shared past, and I am so very proud to be part of all that will come.