haunt the house of history and listen anew to the ancestors' wisdom.

It’s interesting what causes a persons wheels to turn. I was filling out this stupid little survey that comes up with creative ways to show different aliases a person would go by. For example, if you mix your middle name and the town you were born in, it would be your Soap Opera name. Mine was Marie Tucson. I got to one particular one where it asked me for the name of my grandmother on my moms side and my grandfather on my Dad’s side. It was supposed to be my NASCAR name, except; I couldn’t really answer the question correctly.
The only real things I know about my dad’s father is that he was called Red because of his Irish roots, he had very red hair. I also knew that he and my dad’s mom, my other grandmother were divorced. The only memory I have of my Dad’s mother is that she used to make cheesecake or have cheesecake when we went to visit her. She lived in a motel off of Benson highway.
And then, this all got me thinking about how little I really know about my dad’s side of the family. I know he has siblings and I’ve met some of them and some of them I never knew.
There is my Uncle Mike, who I’ve always know and has always been somewhat of a drifter, unable to grow up and continually in with the wrong crowd, but he always told me I was beautiful and that I should never think less than that.
Then there was my Aunt Louise, my only memories of her were that she had really long hair and was the person who took me to the library for the first time and got me a library card. I don’t know what age I was, but I vaguely remember doing it.
Aunt Katie, who one day when I was walking home from the bus stop pulled up next to me in a white van and asked me if I knew who Teresa Welch was, I said I did, and then she asked me where she lived, I was a little scared but I remember pointing towards the property that held the trailer I was heading into. Teresa was my mother, and then I told Katie that. She then asked me who I was Cassie or Jennie and I told her I was Jennie and that’s when she introduced herself as my Aunt Katie, Don’s (My dad) sister. I remember she had a daughter, but I can’t remember her name, only that she has a strange obsession with the characters Pain and Panic from Disney’s Hercules. And if I remember correctly, she lived somewhere in Alabama, or maybe it was Mississippi? It was a southern state
And then there was my Uncle Butch, I’m not sure if that is his real name, but I don’t recall ever meeting him. Or anything about him, and I think he’s actually dead now, but I can’t be sure.
Why is this part of my life so detached and unfamiliar? On my mother’s side I knew a lot of family and relatives. I spent many holidays with cousins and my grandparents Jean and Mike from my mom’s side. I know that 1st name was taken from my grandpa’s great great grandmother (Maybe there was one more great, or maybe one less) and I know that Marie is the name of an Aunt on my grandmother’s side and that she lived near D.C. I know that my grandpa grew up in Tennessee and that he supported his mother even after he had my aunt, uncle and mom.
I know a lot of little tidbits about my mother’s side of the family, a lot more than I can even imagine knowing of my dads. I don’t ever recall not knowing. For example, with my grandma’s side I know these people existed, some of them were Just known as “Great Grandma Crawford” or “Great Grandma Burba.” I feel a little detached without this knowledge of my dad’s side of the family. Like my family tree isn’t very complete and pieces are broken. I feel silly about all this, but the historian inside of me loves to know things like that.
I wish I could ask my dad, but some of it is hard to do. When someone is diagnosed mentally ill, It’s hard to ask questions about family, his family. I know he’s very proud of his children, and I know that he loves his siblings, but I’m not sure his childhood or family life is something he likes to talk about. It’s like I grew up without a father, except I didn’t and he was a great father despite the obstacles he faced, he did the best he could with what he had and the Hurricane force of nature that was my mother.
It’s not like I had nothing, I’m very thankful for the family I did have and did know about. I just wish I had more pieces to my puzzle.