I've lost an ancestor.
Somewhere in the rubble, my great-grandfather Braulio up and disappeared. Aaaaackkk! Actually, he disappeared a long time ago. (Right, Nydia, that's what happens when people die. Glad you're coming to terms with it.)
Back when I was doing everything I could do to finish school, I took electives to make classes a little more entertaining. (My father died prior to my junior year in college, so finishing school was a long and winding road...see my LinkedIn profile. I really should be a lot smarter than I am!)
One such class was a history elective: Chicano History up till Civil Rights. My term paper required me to research as deeply as possible my family history. Let's see...on one side, I have Cabello. On the other, Garcia. That was easy: Cabello it is!
So I went back through my father's lineage, and after about a year successfully linked the youngest living generation of Cabellos with the six generations before it.
Long story short: I'm at it again, and man, this stuff SUCKS. YOU. IN.
Here's why: Learning about yourself by studying where you came from is really humbling. It brings all the pieces of your life together. And suddenly, things start to make sense.
Now, the pieces may not all be pretty, so be prepared. There's a saying in genealogy: "If your family has skeletons in the closet, you might as well make them dance."
And it is addicting. Don't say you haven't been warned. Still, it's worth it. If you're near middle age like me, stuff like this will really matter to you. Or if you feel disconnected from your culture and heritage, family history research is a great way to get grounded in your identity.
Got questions? Let me know. I'll do my best to get you started. I'm no pro, but I do love my family, skeletons and all. :)
(For the record, if you look closely at this image, you'll see the name "Braulio." Yeah, he's the wrong one. The hunt continues...)
