Remembering those you've never known: Getting attached to your ancestors

My GGreat Grandmother Mary came to this country in 1871. She was 17years old. She came from Ireland, when so many people were leaving their families and all they knew in the hopes of having a better life. She brought her three younger siblings. She died in 1906 of cancer. She'd been married, widowed, and had three children. They were still poor. She was buried in Holy Cross Cememtery in Brooklyn, with no headstone.

I've become a little obsessed with Mary over the years. She's been such a mystery. When I guessed at a death listing on one of the online indexes and ordered it from the municipal archives (at $15 a shot) it was a Hail Mary (pun intended). When it came and I saw that it really was her - right address, right mother's name - I danced around the room. I'd found her. At least, I'd found her death certificate. I knew when and how, and I knew where she was buried.

Recently someone contacted me on Ancestry.com about Mary. She was a volunteer who added information to FindAGrave.com. She would search through Ancestry to fill out info, and she had added memorials for not only Mary but some other relatives. She had not only the cemetery, but what I had not yet gotten - the internemtn info, the plot number. So happy, I tried to plan when I could go visit Holy Cross. Would her actually birthday be listed? Was she buried with her husband? I don't know when he died - he's been more a mystery than Mary, because he died so early.  Another leap of faith, I put in a request for a photo - to those lovely people who will go to cemeteries and phtograph headstones for others. And it was answered! And - there is none. Jsut a wee flag marking where the plot is.  Heart-sink.

In researching this family in the past months I've made great strides. The family that Mary's daughter married in to was a socially connected German one, so I have been reading their lives through the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. But this has also pointed me to something else - the differences between a successful German business owner, and poor Irish immigrant. And I realize that, of course, in 1906 the family would not have had the money to add a headstone. In fact, I can only assume that a local charity helped bury the woman. So she wouldn't be interred with her husband. She would be just placed where the cemetery could put her. 

Four years after she died her daughter (my Great Grandmother) married that boy from the German immigrant bussiness-owning, socially connected family. It was likely not a happy event for said family, considering. And that daughter took her social placement and used to become a very connected woman years later, in social AND political circles. And when she and her husband owned their own home, her widowed sister and widower brother came to live with her. She took care of her family, not that she financially could.

So I have become quite attached to Mary.  I've come to love her, even though she died 77years before  was born, before she could imagine my birth. She was poor. When she married she couldn't write her own name on her marriage certificate. She died poor. But her daughter died almost wealthy. Her descendents live comfortable lives. Two GGreat granddaughters are college educated. Would she be proud of us? Would she be happy knowing this? More important than all of that, to me, is that she is remembered. She's gone, but not forgotten. I thought about putting a small memorial on her grave. Not a headstone (I am broke), but a small metal marker that says she is there, she is not forgotten. I called the cemetery, but learned that it is impossible for me. To put anything there, I would have to pay thousands of back annual care, likely to 1906. I would have to buy from them a granite memorial, flat or upright. It would take thousands. So I can't. I did learn that the person who registered the grave was a B. Burns - which may be her sister. Not sure, but it's something. I still want to go there, to visit her. I am not religious, and I don't believe in spirits or afterlife, but I still want to just go and visit. Because she's there.

I know who you were, Mary Burns Fox. I wish I knew more, knew your personality, but I know that you lived and died. And I will always remember, and I will tell your story the best that I can. I am here because you got on that ship. I am grateful for that.

Mary Burns

b. Mar 1854 - Curragh, Kildare, Ireland

To John Burns and Rose Hyde

Married- John Fox on 7 October 1875 - Brooklyn, NY

d. 26 October 1906 - Brooklyn ,NY

buried - Holy Cross Cemetery

Gone But Not Forgotten

Genealogy - denial and acceptance of the past and our ancestors

Genealogy is not new. But recently it's become much more popular, probably due to the ease of getting in to it with digital collections. That popularity led to two shows on television that go through celebrities' ancestry - Who Do You Think You Are  (which began on BBC, then in the US on NBC and now TLC), and PBS's Finding Your Roots. I think it's great. Genealogy is about history, research, ephemera, and remember the past in ways that are personal. It tells the story of individuals, and really, that's what history inevitably is - stories. Through our obsession with the lives of celebrities we can promote a love of history and an interest in genealogy. The more people who want to research, the more money and effort goes in to making resources and documents available to us. People can take pride and an active part in their past, and draw their family together.  

So then Ben Affleck decided he didn't like all the details about his ancestry and this happened: 

PBS is suspending Finding Your Roots because of the Ben Affleck incident

I really appreciate that PBS are responding to this. I appreciate that, even though this is an unimportant incident (as opposed to spreading wrong info on the News Hour), they are treating it as a violation of what they feel is the right way to do things. Everyone involved, including Gates, should get the lashing on it. The truth is the truth, not what you want it to be.

Families lie and manipulate the truth about their past ALL THE TIME. We like to idealize the past and hide the skeletons. Look at any high school history book. It makes genealogy that much harder for trying to piece out the bullshit. I've seen my own family refuse to acknowledge the failings of dead relatives. I've found census records with my family blatantly taking 10yrs off their ages (ahem, GGrandma Athing). Books about my ancestry have left out family members because the informants didn't like them. I approached my KY line expecting to find slave owners. Just because your family did shit in the past does not mean that you are a bad person. You accept it, you accept it was wrong (hello ppl clinging desperately to your Confederate battle flags...) and you MOVE THE HELL ON.

I am not a bad person just because an ancestor may have had a child with his step-daughter. Nor will I hide this fact or be embarrassed by it. Who cares? I had ancestors fight for both the Union and the Confederacy. Though census records show my family (at least my direct line) didn't own slaves, it was probably just because they were too poor. I can't imagine that they weren't just as racist as the rest of the South. Not sure yet if the colonial line had any. They might have, after they started having money and influence. And that's ok, too. It's history. It is what it is.

I don't believe in keeping skeletons in the closet. I need that space for shoes. And those who know me know I decorate with bones.

So chill, Ben. Get over it.

Brahms!

I just realized that before my post in February, I last posted about Brahms in 2011.  I was, at the time, preparing the Brahms Requiem for two concerts.  Well, I am singing it once again.  Just a couple weeks away and so it's that time of concert prep where it's in my head ALL DAY LONG.  And I am perfectly ok with that.

The German Requiem is different from most requiems that we're used to.  It's in German, not the familiar Latin text.  And it's not all plodding and sad.  There are certainly quite, dainty moments, but there are multiple fugues and daring, blaring, exciting exultations and declarations.  It's not a sleep piece.  It's beautiful and moving and exciting.  I love it.  I love singing it.  Throughout the past couple months, just rehearsing it has elevated my mood.  When my mind couldn't quit a funk while singing parts of it, the second movement fugue actually cleared my head of the emotional fog. This is why I believe that music is mighty.  Fugues have power over us!  I go home from rehearsal smiling, even when I'm so tired I just want to sleep for days.

If I ever meet Brahms in the great beyond, I will hug him for creating this joy.

Gratitude 1

My sister mentioned doing a 40 days of gratitude challenge, so I think I'll try it as well.  Good reason to write every day, too. I just don't write enough anymore.

Today I am grateful for: my sisters.

This certainly isn't a new revelation.  I've long declared my deep gratitude for them.  I grew up with just one, and she beat on me and we fought and shared a room.  At times it was terrible.  But there were other times when it was the only thing that saved me.  As adults, I don't know how I would cope without her. She is my emotional rock, my balance.  Where I am emotional broken and volatile and weak, she is a rock of calm.  Granted, it's because she buries her emotions and ignores them. But she's so stubborn.  As we face the waning years of our parents, the only solace i have is knowing I'm facing it with her. I get a lot more than I give with her, I know.  It's the one really selfish relationship I have. I try to give more, but like I said, she's very stubborn.  She's got the big sister thing down.

My eldest sister is newer addition.  I've always known about her, thankfully, but never met her until 2014.  She's my half sister, from my Dad's first marriage.  I am fortunate because my mother always made sure we knew we had a sister.  She was never rude or mean about it, except to Dad.  She was mad that he and didn't talk to his daughter more, have her visit more, allow her to have sisters.  But over the years we grew up and talked to each other on our own.  It was slow going, as happens when life is in the way.  But with Facebook we ended up being Sisters, not half-sisters.  I can't explain it.  I love this woman with my whole heart. I love my brother-in-law and nephew, too, with everything I am.  So now she has two sisters to help her through the happy and the sad.  And we have another crazy woman who goes through the same mental shite we do, and gets it, and loves us, and is there.  I am so fucking lucky and fortunate to have these two incredible woman in my life.  I learn from them.  And my heart fills to bursting thinking about them. <3 p="">

Blogging

I think I need to return to a long form blog. Sometimes I just need to get thoughts out of my head, and FB just isn't it. And I think this little corner of the internet that few ppl visit.

So, Muzing won't just be about music anymore. But it will be sometimes. I'll still keep reading over at Bibliorantics - it would be good for me to write like that again, too.