Sitting here on a long, dark Australian winter’s night, I am imagining that a lovely spring dawn is breaking over the West Monkton graveyard. I am heartened to know that the graves of my ancestors are being visited by their living English descendants.
How do I know this? Because I have been contacted by them, and they told me so.
Today Sarah Pring’s great-granddaughter sent me a message to let me know that Sarah had one child with her second husband, a boy who was her grandfather. She also told me that she visits the graves with her children and her grandchildren, because she feels it is important for them to know where they come from.
I couldn’t agree more.
I love the idea that our family history is important to somebody other than me – especially somebody sentimental enough to visit the graves and courageous enough to contact me using the internet, a very public medium, about such private family matters.
I am a little embarrassed that I thought there wouldn’t be any living descendants of my ggggrandparents or gggggrandparents to visit their graves. When I don’t find evidence in my research, I tend to assume it mustn’t exist. I forget that due to privacy laws and incomplete databases that it’s highly probable that I there are relatives out there that I don’t know about because I don’t have access to all the information.
My long-lost cousin and I share a gggrandmother, Sarah Pring, who is evidently the gggrandmother of other descendants, as she phoned one of them, and he also posted a message to me. He and I share both great-grandparents, Sarah and William Ridgway, and I may be able to shed some light on William’s death in Australia for him. I replied to both in personal emails and I can’t wait for them to contact me again. All the census records and death certificates in the world can’t compare with the information and feelings you get from talking directly to a long-lost family member.
At the moment, I feel a little like I’m in a famous Steven Spielberg movie, stepping into the light to meet somebody I’ve always known was there, but was always slightly out of reach. I feel nothing but wonderment, awe and respect.
