An electronic card reminded me that today is St Patrick’s Day. A lovely thought, so here are a couple of photos and a memory about Ireland.
One of the hobbies I hoped to take up in retirement was researching my family tree. The trouble is that the days pass so happily and I often get distracted by books or other toys, then the summer comes and there are places to visit and people to see. All excuses I know. However, I did manage a little research and discovered that one of my mother’s ancestors had been born in Ireland prior to 1840, then moved to Scotland presumably around the time of the great famines. I kind of came to a dead end there as I had no idea where he came from, though I suspect it would have been from the more Protestant north of the country.
I’ve only visited Ireland a couple of times and each time have felt a strong sense of belonging – particularly in the south-west of the country, so find myself motivated to try and find out if there are any connections in my family history to that area. Of course it could just be that the countryside is so similar to the west of Scotland where I have been happily settled for many years.
It’s wonderful to visit a new place and to feel immediately at home. I remember taking this photo of the sunset and feeling full of peace. Peace to you this day.
One thing I can honestly say is unlike many Americans, I do not have one drop of Irish blood in my veins. The closest I come is the ancestor on my dad’s side who migrated from Guernsey in the 1640s. My mother told me that when she was small, her mother tied orange ribbons in her hair on St. Patrick’s Day. They were Dutch extraction, and I am sure you know what William of Orange and his legions did to the Irish. Dianne
Family history is fascinating isn’t it, even if only to destroy all those well-embroidered myths common to all families. My husband went back as far as he could in both families (he was one quarter Scottish, one quarter Welsh and half English, I am 90% Welsh and 10% Cornish) but kept hitting blank spots. Illegitimacy, no record, etc., until he got stuck, mid 18th Century and gave up.
It is a costly and tiring time-consuming hobby but can come up with some wonderful surprises.
I trust you are wearing (or eating, or whatever you do with it) your shamrock.
Blessings.
No Irish in my veins…but married to someone who has some. I did wear green to the dermatologists appointment today…does that count?
What a wonderful sunset photo! The silhouetted plant in the foreground on the right anchors the viewer on a safe foundation to enjoy the glory of God’s beautiful world.
I have not researched my family more than four or five generations. Looks like ancestors were English and immigrated from North Carolina area in the 1800s. And there was a Native American great great or so grandmother in there somewhere. It is fascinating, but right now I just seem to fill my days with the living members of four generations in my family.
Sounds like all of us are aware of our ancestry – where we come from matters.