Christmas, part 2

The second part of Christmas happened on Christmas Day and it was very exciting!  I got my ancestryDNA results!

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WOW!  Not only do I have a heritage, it’s the COOLEST heritage there is!  Jewish!  I’ve always liked Jewish-sounding music (Hava Nagila being the only piano piece I can still play), but never thought it was anything other than just a love of the rhythm.

It turns out that there is an option on the ancestry.com site that I was able to opt in or out of my information being made available for making connections.  I opted out of that for now as I’m not ready to go that direction. Right now, it’s just enough to know where I come from.

Christmas, part 1

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Christmas this year has been a roller-coaster of a time, so I’m breaking it down into parts because, quite honestly, it’s the only way I can handle all that has happened.

On December 16 we received word that Nolan’s mom, Pauline, was in her final days. After a 50-year battle with Multiple Sclerosis (MS), her life on this earth was coming to an end.

Nolan had decided several days before that he wouldn’t make the trip to Kansas to try to see her again since we’d been there in August for her and Dad’s 60th anniversary. I called him that morning.

“Love, do you want to go?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Then you’d better get to the office and ask for time off.”
“I’m parked outside it now.”

Our son John, who works at the same company as Nolan, decided to go with him and the two of them left that day in hopes of making it there before she died.

They arrived on Sunday the 17th and saw Mom and Dad at the care home in Kingman where they were living. They were able to see and talk to Mom. Mom had been unable to really talk for several days, but the one thing she could still say was, “I love you.” When Nolan and John hugged her, she whispered it to them, too.

That evening at Terry’s they helped answer questions for the obituary and talked about funeral arrangements while they waited for another brother to arrive.

The next day the siblings who could be there were back at the care home. Nolan and John planned to leave the next day as Mom was expected to last a few days longer. While they were looking through some photo albums in the sitting room, Dad walked in and said, “Mom stopped breathing.”

That quickly, in those few moments while Dad was looking down reading something, the room had gone quiet and, looking up, he realized she wasn’t breathing. Quietly, peacefully, and without pain, she was gone.

Mom’s funeral was December 23rd with most of the family here for it. The family service Friday night and the funeral on Saturday were testimony to the love and dedication of Mom and Dad to one another for all of the 60+ years of their marriage. Dad’s loving care of Mom for all these years has been nothing short of heroic. As Mom would so often observe, many spouses of MS sufferers leave them, unable to cope with the growing disabilities of their mate. Such a thought never entered Dad’s mind. He and Mom were just as much in love on the last day as they had been on their wedding day.

At times like these it is appropriate that people express their sympathies at our loss and we certainly agree. Mom’s death has left a huge hole in our world. But our sorrow is tempered with relief that her pain is finally at an end. She is now free! Free from this world and its sorrows; free from the pain of MS; free from living with the effects of sin in the world. So, although we cry when we think of our memories that are never to be repeated, we rejoice at the thought of her finally with Jesus, her Savior and Lord.

And, so, the first part of Christmas 2017 was a reminder of why Jesus came–to conquer death. Mom is now living that reality.

Merry Christmas to Me! The results are in!

 

 The ancestryDNA results are back, and on Christmas morning! According to the results, I’m 39% European Jewish, 27% European West, 19% Scandinavian, and 6% Ireland/Scotland/Wales. Although that only adds up to 91%, all the others are just traces with low confidence.

My mom is going to laugh! She’s always said that she thought there must be some Jewish in me somewhere. 🙂

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Personal History

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Have you ever had a moment in life that instantly choked you up in tears, completely unexpectedly?

A week ago, on Black Friday, I was cruising Amazon when I discovered that the “ancestry DNA” kit was almost 50% off the regular $100 price. My body froze as I realized this was a rare thing. What should I do? I’ve wanted one of these for so long, but what if someone got it for me for Christmas (I’d mentioned it)? Should I ask? Should I wait? But what if they put together the money and here it was for half that? I decided to ask Nolan.

I explained my dilemma and then asked, “Do you mind if I get it?”

“No, go ahead.”

That was it, just three little words, but I instantly choked up.

How do I explain what it means to me to finally be able to find out where I come from? Although there have been times over the years I’ve thought of finding my birth parents, I’ve never pursued it. First, it’s just too expensive. Second, what level of complication would it bring to their lives and mine? Third, do I really have a good reason or a driving need? I’m not sure. What I am sure about is just simply wanting to know where I come from. What is my heritage? Where do I fit into this big world?

I’m a history and heritage person. People’s stories have fascinated me since I was in the fourth grade and discovered the world of biographies. And being a child of America, where everyone comes from somewhere, the closest I could get was that there was some Danish in me. I clung to that! My ancestors were the Vikings! Hagar the Horrible was one of my favorite comic strips just because they were Vikings. Mom and Pop once bought me a Danish American license plate frame for my first car–I loved it! The only problem was, I had no story to go with it. Even in this melting pot we call America, everyone has a story for their heritage. My niece and nephews adopted from other countries at least know their heritage, something they can claim. Mine is only a piece of my birth mother’s information, I know nothing of my birth father except a description of his looks.

The advantage of that is I could dream up whatever I wanted to about what my connections could be. Could I be a princess? Do I have famous relatives? (Highly unlikely, but tell that to an eight-year old!) What’s funny is that my girls would wonder that about me, too! I guess children are the same no matter what generation they’re in!

And so, my dear husband’s “go ahead” put me in instant emotion as I realized I could, at last, find out. But now comes the difficult part. Nolan went on to tell the experience of a co-worker’s partner who, when she did it, discovered she had a grandchild neither she nor her son knew about. My stomach dropped. What if I’m someone’s unknown grandchild? Or sibling? Could I still end up a complication in someone else’s life? After all these years, could it drag up unwanted memories? Or, could it be a blessing? A healing for someone? The answer to a long ago asked question?

My kit arrived a couple days ago. I guess it’s time to find out.