Recently, however, I was bitten by the Family History
bug. I’ve become particularly interested
in researching my mother’s side. My
Grandma Olive was adopted so we don’t know much about her biological parents,
but I have learned that her father was part Irish – Patrick O’Neil was his
grandfather.
So what do you know?
I’ve got a wee bit o’ Irish in me after all!
There’s something addicting about genealogical
research. When you find a record with names,
dates, and places, stories begin to form and relationships develop – no matter
that you’ve lived decades, centuries, or oceans apart.
My Grandma Olive’s parents were married with five
children. When they separated, the
father took his three sons and the mother, Annie, took her two baby girls –
though she was soon unable to provide for them and had to place them in an orphanage. When Olive was three she went to live with a
couple who later adopted her.
I truly appreciate Olive’s adoptive parents who gave her a
good home, but my heart aches for Annie, my biological great-grandmother who
had to give away her babies. I’m drawn
to her – and I’m grateful for every bit of information I can find to piece her
life together.
And so I urge you to record your own family histories and
share them on websites like Ancestry, Family Search, and My Heritage so that
those searching for their past, like me, can find it.
