I spent the past weekend with my mother. She came in for my cousin’s daughter’s wedding. When I was young, we spent a great deal of time with my cousins. Over the years through various moves and job changes, I lost touch with many of them. That has changed recently though. Facebook and family events have brought us together in unexpected ways, and I have enjoyed getting to know them again.
As I get older and spend more times researching the past, I become more and more curious about my own family history. What were my ancestors like? What brought them to America? My father’s side has been easy. My dad’s brother has done considerable research, tracing his parents roots even journeying to the town in Hungary where my grandfather was from.
I do not know as much about my mother’s side. She has always been reluctant to share stories about her parents, and she has hardly any pictures. Both of her parents died when I was three years old. I felt fortunate today when my aunt, my mom’s older sister, invited us over. She and my cousin brought out photo albums that they had pieced together of my mother’s side.
This album included pictures taken in Germany of my great-grandmother and later of my grandmother as a young girl. This picture struck me of a young girl dressed up for a wedding. Her hair is bobbed, her dress flapperish. She appears pensive, thoughtful.
I am immediately drawn to this picture and this girl. I know she will appear in a story someday. Who is she? What are her hopes and dreams? This is how character is developed. They are drawn out from those images that we hold. I am happy that I had the chance to touch this piece of my family history and become a little closer to my past.