Traditionally, it's been easy to be cynical about family. The terms "dysfunctional family" and "family drama" seem to apply to more of us than not -- just listen to the horror stories that often ensue after the death of a family matriarch or patriarch who didn't leave a will -- and sometimes it seems easier to just love relatives from afar.
But something has happened in recent years. The rise in the interest in genealogy, especially DNA genealogy, made family cool again. From the TV series Who Do You Think You Are and Finding Your Roots to those 23andme.com and Ancestry.com commercials that share the stories of people finding out their ethnicity, everybody has become interested in knowing where they come from as well as who they're connected to.
I've written a handful of genealogy-related feature stories for this newspaper, including one two years ago on DNA genealogy. As part of the story, I underwent testing via Ancestry.com and AfricanAncestry.com. I found out that I'm (surprise, surprise) nearly 90 percent of African descent; that the biggest chunk of my ancestry goes back to the Cameroon/Congo region, with Ivory Coast/Ghana, Nigeria, "Africa Southeastern Bantu" and Benin/Togo, among other regions, thrown in and, just as long rumored among my mother's folks, there's a trace of Irish mixed in.
I knew I had a slew of cuzzos out there on my dad's side. My father and his recently deceased twin brother were on the tail end of a huge family of siblings who lived in Ruston, La., and Union County in Arkansas. Because I wasn't close to my dad and his family growing up, I missed all but one of the family reunions that died out when the siblings died off, and I'd not kept up with the cousins I'd met.
One of the benefits of Ancestry.com is that it gives customers a list of "DNA matches" -- those whose DNA results are similar and are, most likely, relatives. The website offers the opportunity to reach out and connect with these relatives.
Even before the DNA test, my dabbling on Ancestry had connected me with a first cousin, the Las Vegas-dwelling son of one of my father's sisters. In recent months, I found myself wondering more and more about other cousins ... especially after the passing of my father's twin, leaving my father as the last living sibling.
Returning to my Ancestry.com account for the first time since I wrote that story, I saw that my DNA matches included another first cousin listed along with some 50 distant cousins. I'd missed three messages from one of the fourth cousins, a lovely young lady who'd last written Aug. 25 asking if I had family in the Arkansas/Louisiana area. I hurriedly wrote back with an affirmative response, but for now she has apparently given up pursuing me.
That prompted me to get off my duff and reach out to the first cousin. I got a quick response from Heather Palmer, the wife of that cousin, Bill Palmer, a Wisconsin-dwelling son of my father's youngest brother. Excitedly, Bill, Heather and I exchanged messages and had a couple of phone conversations. I also connected with Bill's sister Picola via email and phone; we are now connected via Facebook.
In the midst of all these exciting discoveries, however, I can't help but feel somewhat guilty. I'm sure those who have been on a similar journey can identify with the reason: the relatives about and with whom we've known all along, some right in our backyard, whom we've been lazy about keeping in contact. We assume they'll always be there and then we're shocked when somebody passes on. All too often, our only excuse for not connecting with Aunt Mary, Cousin Jim or that adorable great-grandniece is that we're too busy/we just don't feel like getting on the phone or driving across town/we're thinking "Humph. Why can't they pick up the phone and call me?"
And that's a shame. These relatives, too, are cause for celebration. They are members of circles that shouldn't be unbroken. They, too, hold keys to our histories ... histories that, as long as we're living, are yet being written.
Therefore, as I seek out "new" relatives, I'll remind myself to do a better job of keeping in contact with "old" ones. So may we all.
Feel free to beget email:
hwilliams@arkansasonline.com
Style on 02/11/2018