The next few blocks on my quilt represent my family tree. It's grown over recent years from a sketchy sapling to an enormous thing so full of branches and leaves I can scarcely keep track. Its been very rewarding learning about my family and their places in history.
My Mom and I at first flush seem to be a lot alike, and in many respects we are, but there are certain points in our personalities where we clearly took divergent paths. Once such place is with our family history. Mom is no more interested in what her ancestors where up to than she is with the latest plot twists on daytime Television drama. Both are equally uninteresting to her. While I on the other hand find the little tidbits of history that I can tie into my own family story to be more captivating than anything Luke and Laura ever did. As mystified as she is with my intense interest in my family history I am equally astounded by her utter indifference to it all. Maybe because I have always been a history buff it appeals to me to be able to plug in the names of people I am descended from to actual moments in history, making me less of a spectator and more a participant in all those amazing events I was taught about in school. I revel in that connectedness and sink into it like cozy chair. Maybe that's the same reason I have always liked the doctrine of the Communion of saints, I am comforted to know I belong and have a place among them, both the saints and my family, and hopfully they are most often one and the same!
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