... going back. Way back.

I've been very good. All this time and I haven't mentioned the words "family tree" or "geneology" once. This is mainly because people's eyes tend to glaze over when I start because, on this subject, I seem unable to say anything in 10 words if 50 would do. We all, once we pass 70, tend to 'live in the past', to one degree or another. My tendency is just a little more focused, that's all - but hey, we certainly have a heckuva lot more past than we have future, right?

I have a snapshot of my mother at 104, in her wheelchair, sitting ramrod-straight, such an impressive figure that one doesn't even notice her wrinkled knee-hi's. I'd loaned her my aviation-type sunglasses against the glare. I captioned it "The Female Equivalent of the Godfather". A force always to have been reckoned with, my mom .....

Her ancestry was a formidable one, researched by my cousin, with lyrical-sounding names like Gordon, Herron, Scott and Moore, counties Cavin and Down. Her great-grandmother lived to an astonishing 97 in Ireland, when the living was not easy.

It's not a coincidence, I feel, that my daughter is so gifted with her many cameras, and her grandmother was the only one of her group with a camera, a Brownie box, that she used from 1911 on to such wonderful advantage, leaving a priceless legacy of clear images of "bathing costumes", Gibson-girl style, muffs(!!) and 1920's cars that people used to call "tin lizzies", early Ottawa and WWI laddies on their way to France.


See what I mean? I could go on for another 10 pages! And I haven't even Started on my paternal roots yet!