To fill in the three slots
As someone that had to move from one community to another, often, I have to wonder. What is it like to always live in one area? In genealogy terms, to fill in the three slots (Birth, Marriage, Sepulture) with a single placename.
I spent this afternoon in a crowd-sourcing workshop. Trying to define the history of a place, based on the reminisces of a group. I’m an outlier; deep roots here, but not MY roots. I have come lately, and although I try to absorb the lore, I can’t add much of anything new to the discussion. Not like some of the others.
I have no tales of bodies moved from one resting place to another, to satisfy the whimsical nature of relations. I haven’t met the people that developed their self-worth by attending every wake, wedding and other thing. I can’t even point out to where I lived, back when (although the home of my grandfather is here).
Note, I don’t feel as if I’ve failed at any measure; I just wonder. Looking in from beyond the purview of a given window. Perhaps, a half-century from now, people will have forgotten that I moved “home” late in life. Oh, right… statistically, I don’t have a half-century to wait. OK, how about a decade? Nope, that doesn’t cut it. Different rules.
The best I can hope is that my own children will be able to claim honorary citizenship… “My father lived just over there”. “And his father, and grandfather…” That might serve as a ticket to the house party.
