Lily Anne Morehouse was born Monday September 14, 2009. My dainty girl tipped the scales at 5 pounds 13 ounces and was 18 inches long. Her daddy and I are enjoying getting to know her and we wonder every day how we created something so perfect!
I'll be back writing about dead people in a while but I wanted to introduce my daughter to the world.
Lily Anne Morehouse was born Monday September 14, 2009. My dainty girl tipped the scales at 5 pounds 13 ounces and was 18 inches long. Her daddy and I are enjoying getting to know her and we wonder every day how we created something so perfect!
0 Comments
Allow me to shift my attention from my past to my future...
"To my sweet little Monkey, I have absolutely loved being pregnant with you. Aside from some morning sickness in the beginning, this has been a very stress-free and wonderful experience. For the last 38 weeks you and I have shared nourishment, hormones, pokes, and my off-key singing in the car. I'm really going to miss your wee kicks, squirms and wiggles. Your personality is already showing itself to your daddy and me. When we poke you during your active time you squiggle in response. You move around very vigorously when you hear music, or when we're having a ride on the boat, or when I'm dancing around while doing my chores. Unlike most babies you are very active during the afternoon and early evening hours. You seem to like being involved with my conversations throughout the day, because you like distracting me with a sudden somersault or urgent kick to my bladder while I'm chatting with a friend or talking with your daddy. Luckily, you settle down around 11:00 at night so that you and I can get a good night's sleep. If I have a bad dream that something is wrong you give me a mighty kick when I anxiously nudge you to make sure you're still ok in there. When we found out I was pregnant your daddy and I were beyond excited. We always knew we wanted to have a family. You became very real to us the day we went for our first ultrasound. That day, as we watched you on the screen moving your arms and legs, and saw your strong little heart beating we were in awe that we had created such a perfect, tiny life. We looked at each other and realized that our lives had just changed forever. As we drove home something happened in my heart -- a new chamber had magically appeared and was filling with a new love for you that overwhelmed me. I cried. I think your daddy might have cried too, but he'll probably deny it!? The day I first felt you kick was no doubt the highlight of my pregnancy. I remember looking at your daddy with wonder as I put my hand on my tummy. You were getting stronger. I could hardly wait for you to get strong enough for your daddy to feel you. And when he finally did he gave me a tender look of amazement that I'll never forget. As I write this you are moving around in my tummy, no doubt trying to get comfortable in an increasingly cramped nest. I have done everything I can these last few months to provide you with a safe environment so that you could grow strong and healthy. Your daddy and I will continue to keep you safe, happy and healthy in this big, strange world you're soon about to enter. You are the tangible result of a love that will become even stronger when we bring you back home. I love you very, very much and I can't wait to meet you! Love, Mummy" I have been slowly amassing information on all branches of my family tree for several years. It's been an interesting journey and I've learned a great deal about genealogy, record keeping, history, etc. To me, it's the journey not the destination, so to speak, that captures my imagination and attention. I love hearing about everyday ordinary stories about everyday ordinary folks. I'm not in this to figure out if I'm related to Peter the Great (sorry dad, haven't verified that one yet!?) or a distant cousin of one of the Jonas Brothers. I'm especially keen to learn more about my brave immigrant ancestors who defied all odds and made a new life in a strange, new world.
My husband's family (Morehouse) has a claim to fame in their lineage. It would seem that several Morehouse families arrived in New Brunswick at the close of the American Revolutionary War. In particular, Daniel Morehouse, seems to be the ancestor from whence my husband's family sprang. With a click of a mouse button I can suddenly add 6 generations to my husband's family tree, culminating in a famous local figure -- an American Loyalist. At the Kings Landing Historical Settlement (near Fredericton, my husband's hometown) there is even a Morehouse house. How fortuitous that I can fill in some more branches in my family tree. But alas, it's only the Morehouse side. Further digging will flesh out the other sides, particularly the maternal lines. As is so often the case it isn't always easy or even possible to find out information about women throughout history (unless they've done something very naughty!?) Regrettably, records usually only pay attention to the males. But every now and then I am lucky enough to find snippets of a female family member. For example, my great-grandmother, Amelia Bolt, was a mini land tycoon. She bought and sold property (in her own name) at a dizzying rate, making a neat little profit. By the time of her death in 1949 she was able to leave each of her 8 children a parcel of land in or near London, Ontario. She was also pretty ballsy. I found a court case where she sued her neighbour for putting his driveway (on his land) too close to one of her houses. And she won! Another great-grandmother, Anna Zaranek, an orphan at age 18 in England, braved a dangerous voyage across the sea, fending off unscrupulous people. She made her way across the border to Canada where her two brothers had settled a few years previously. And amazingly, she arrived in London, Ontario in 1906 with all her worldly possessions that she set out with -- including an antique rocking chair that sits in front of me as I type this. I have an amazing amount of admiration for these brave ladies. Is it any wonder that I look to my family tree for baby name inspiration? So while it is great to find a serendipitous site that fills in many missing details, I see this mainly as new branches that I can use as jumping-off points to find even more relatives. And hopefully to find some more brash and sassy females in the bunch! My husband and I travel to New Brunswick to visit family every few months. We travel east along highway 20. Each time we take the route between Quebec City and Riviere-du-Loup I am struck by how everything must have looked to my great-grandfather as his ship made its way into the Port of Quebec. Did he marvel at the beautiful coastline on both sides of the mighty St. Lawrence river? Did he appreciate the MILES of evergreen trees and the villages and old churches. (I keep meaning to take pictures along the way, but with a 16 hour drive I just want to get where I'm going!?) Did he wonder if his descendants would see what he'd seen? Did he wonder if he was making a terrible mistake and maybe he should just get back on the ship and go home? Was he thinking about the subsequent generations of his family? Did he immigrate to make a better life for himself and his family? If he ever wondered if his sacrifice of leaving his home country was worth it to make his children's children's lives better, he can wonder no more... Gido, I love this country and I'm forever glad you came. Just thought I'd take a moment and mention the names I'm currently researching for my own family's history. In no particular order, they are:
* Sawchuk/Shewchuk * Cherwaiko * Gilmore * Bolt * Sedor * Walzack/Walczak Obviously the English names (Gilmore and Bolt) have been the easiest to trace (most of the records are in English) But the Ukrainian and Polish names are an absolute nightmare! And I'm afraid my rudimentary Ukrainian and Polish language skills aren't up to speed. The most frustrating part of my search so far? My Ukrainian great-grandfather (who couldn't read or write) landed in Quebec, where his naturalization record lists his name as Souvchok. My good friend Serendipity helped me find THAT one! And my Polish great-grandparents embarked on their journey in Bremen, Germany. I can just imagine the mishmash of mistakes in THOSE records! For it matters not, how much we own:
The cars . . . the house . . . the cash, What matters is how we live and love And how we spend our dash. ~Linda Ellis~ We put the dates of a person’s birth and death on a gravestone with only a dash in between to denote their life and contribution. The dash symbolizes our entire lives—the time we have to create meaning for our families, our communities, our countries, the world, and ourselves. We are more than just a dash. My curiosity drives my need to fill in the details of those who have gone before me. What were their hopes and dreams? Best accomplishments and worst fears? Were they happy? Did they struggle to find peace and happiness? Lately I find myself wondering what I want that dash to say about me. ~ I want them to know that I loved and was loved. ~ I want to be remembered as a thoughtful and giving person who cared about others. ~ I want them to know that I want to make a difference in this world. It doesn't have to be a big difference, but just something to make the world a better place than before I got here. ~ I want them to know that I took risks. Sometimes they worked out, and sometimes they didn't... but I tried. ~ I want them to know that I handled life's difficulties with strength and grace. But I also made sure to be gentle with myself. ~ I want them to know that I have no regrets; I accomplished the goals I set for myself. ~ I want people to know that I laughed every single day and enjoyed this life to the fullest. I am still writing my dash. What will YOUR dash say about you? It's funny. It wasn't until I began combing my family tree for baby names that I realized that my side does not have any of those lovely, old fashioned, out of date names from days gone by. Names like Euphonia, Bartholomew, Phineas, Virgil, Adelaide, Clementine, Patience, Prudence or Edwina. Even though I have no American ancestors (that I'm aware of) I often check the resources just in case I serendipitously find a familiar name. Not being American, when I use their records I rarely recognize the famous examples they use when providing instructions on how to use the resource. Before I was married I was often asked the same question by people I met. "Are you any relation to Terry Sawchuk?" Born in Manitoba, Terry became a US citizen when his NHL career took him south of the border. His parents followed him to Michigan . Through the US Social Security Administration I was able to procure Louis' Social Security Application. It lists his place of birth as simply "Austria" (which is maddeningly vague) and that his father's name was Paul Sawchuk. There is usually more useful genealogy information on marriage certificates so I returned to the Manitoba Vital Statistics website. I discovered that "Lucas/Lewis Shewchuk/Sawchuk" married Anna Maslak on February 4, 1922 in Winnipeg. The marriage certificate (1922-06-006110) reveals his father as "Paul Shewczuk/Sawchuk." Louis and Paul were born in Lovocko/s (?), Skalat, Ukraine. (A brief history lesson -- prior to WWI the province of Temopil (in which Skalat was a city) was ruled by Austria-Hungary, which explains why Louis stated he was born in Austria on his SS application. Borders and rulers were more fluid back in those days. The political upheaval that spurred many Austro-Hungarian-Ukrainians to emigrate is a long, sordid story that I won't address today.)
It was at this point that I realized the connection between Terry's family and my family was fading for three reasons: First, to my knowledge, we had never been Shewchuks. Secondly, my great-grandfather emigrated from Galicia, Bukovina, Ukraine. Looking at a map from the late 1800s the city of Skalat and the area of Galicia, Bukovina were in adjacent provinces in Ukraine. However, it's unlikely they were immediate family members as there is quite a substantial commute between them. The third reason that the connection was becoming iffy was that Louis was born in Austria in 1898, around the same time that my g-grandfather, Michael, was emigrating to Canada with a wife and two sons. So they are not the same generation. Further information about Paul (Terry's grandfather) is needed. Years passed, and I expanded my genealogy investigations to other members of the family. This puzzle remained in the back of my mind, however, like an annoying itch. Following my grandfather's death in 2007 many of his papers were given to me and I picked up the trail again after a serendipitous revelation. I was shocked to discover that my grandfather's name when he was a boy was "Shewchuk" as seen on his school certificates and birth certificate. I had no idea our name was Shewchuk at any point, and my father and his siblings couldn't remember this either as they'd all been born Sawchuk. Being unable to find my great-grandfather's death certificate under "Sawchuk" or "Sawczuk" I checked the Manitoba Vital Statistics site once again for a "Michael Shewchuk" who died in 1928. Success! Michael Shewchuk's death certificate (reg # 1928-06-010076) states that Michael, born in 1868 in Galicia, Poland, died in 1928 when my grandfather was 15, a fact he mentioned several times in our chats. Further confirming the relationship, the address listed as his home at the time of death is the same address (8-3-5E, District of Franklin, Manitoba) that is listed on my grandfather's birth certificate. This certificate yielded two other items of interest. The first is that Michael's father's name was Steve Shewchuk. Michael named his son (my grandfather) after his father. This was customary, but I could never (until now) prove that Michael's father would have been Steve as well. The second point of interest is that the informant on the death certificate was Mortey (?) Shewchuk, Michael's nephew. I don't remember my grandfather talking about any uncles or cousins and we certainly don't know of any so this is another lead which could be a link between my family and Terry's. So to sum up, Terry and I both have Shewchuks in our family trees. And they came from adjoining Ukrainian provinces. Coincidence? Or relatives? This is where the story ends -- for now. I remain cautiously optimistic that Terry and I are cousins, although much further removed than my grandfather realized. Edward Ball. The Genetic Strand: Exploring a Family History through DNA. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2007, 265 pp. ISBN-13: 978-0-7432-6658-1 ISBN-10: 0-7432-6658-7. $28.99 Cdn. A decrepit secretary desk crafted sometime between 1790 and 1810 is handed down through the generations and ends up in the author’s possession. While cleaning it, he discovers a secret compartment with several hair samples taken from earlier generations of Ball’s family, roughly mid-1700s to mid-1800s when it was common practice to collect hair samples. Readers may remember that Edward Ball also wrote “Slaves in the Family,” the 1998 National Book Award winner that meticulously chronicles not only his own 300-year family history, but also the descendents of the families who worked on the Ball plantations. He brings the Ball family under scrutiny once again as he tackles the modern world of genetic testing using the biological evidence they left behind. Inspired by the fortuitous discovery of the hair samples, Ball decides to create a “genetic memoir,” one that would confirm or refute family chronicles that often contain hearsay. The premise of the book is simple: Could genetic tests tell us what we really are, in a verifiable, scientific sense? Using the hair samples for DNA analysis the author receives test results that baffle and intrigue him, leading him to explore possible indiscretions in his family’s history that may have been taboo or were simply hushed up and lost over time. In his eagerness, Ball demonstrates how easy it is to get caught up in the possibilities of how generations might have diluted the blood line. Of particular interest is the case of his great grandmother, Kate Fuller, whose entire ethnicity and lineage is abruptly called into question as a result of one particular DNA analysis. No genetic analysis would be complete without also discussing population movement such as the “out of Africa” theory, that anatomically modern humans had originated in Africa, then had migrated out and around the world some 100,000 years ago. It is through genetic mutations and the markers they leave behind for future generations that link modern DNA to human origins in Africa, Asia, Europe or North America. The moral of the story is that science is not omniscient. Realizing that the tests are not flawless, even in the exacting world of DNA analysis, Ball takes the hair samples for multiple testing to a variety of genetic labs throughout the US, Canada and the UK. The author acknowledges the subjectivity of using old hair samples. Considering that “[age] is bad, water is bad and heat is bad” the fact that these hair samples “stewed” in a hot, humid environment (Charleston, South Carolina) for 200 years is one reason to take the DNA results with a grain of salt. One minor aspect of this book disappointed me. Ball does not include citations for the supporting academic articles to which he refers throughout the book. I would have thought that for all the effort Ball made to be scientifically thorough and accurate he would have included more of his sources in footnotes or appendices. He drops notable scientific journal names without further comment. For example “[he’s] published on these markers in journals such as Genome Research and the American Journal of Human Genetics.” As a science geek I would have appreciated more detail on these papers.
This book deftly marries science and genealogy. However, readers looking for scandalous discoveries about the genetic purity of the Ball family will be disappointed. The author generalizes the DNA testing experience to what it means for the future trends of genealogy, rather than focusing on how the results influence his own ancestors. As the author states, “the surprises come from what the scientists do to the evidence, not from their revelations about it.” Overall, I really enjoyed reading this book. The author has an engaging and amusing style of writing, describing his initial discovery of the hair samples as “little extras Louis and Mary Leakey might have kept on the mantel.” The book reads as a narrative and is aimed at people who are keen to jump on the forensic bandwagon to shake out “real” relationships and ethnicities in the family tree. The topic is appearing increasingly in professional genealogy magazines (e.g. “From DNA to Genetic Genealogy,” APG Quarterly, Mar 2009) and, judging by the number of websites devoted to genetic testing and genealogy, is becoming more mainstream for the amateur family historian. It is not really a book readers need to keep in a personal library, but worthwhile to read if one is considering DNA testing of family members. |
Why a blog?Family history just fascinates me. And not just my own. There are many facts and people that have been lost to time. I really enjoy puzzles and sometimes I come across some really interesting mysteries in my genealogy travels. I'll post some of my musings here. Archives
November 2015
Categories
All
|