I put myself in their position. I try to see what it was like being in that situation, at that time, at that moment and with the circumstances they were dealing with. You know what happen to them, you know the outcome. But it's still hard to let go and to not put yourself in their shoes. You want to be able to feel how they felt, to see what they saw and to ask them questions.
I remember sitting by their side, thinking what went wrong? What happen so bad, that the outcome resulted in this? But than others, I sat by their side thinking wow what a great life you had. How did you manage to pack so much into a lifetime? I wish I could have had more time with you or I wish I could have met you in person. I was told stories by family members of the type of person you were, the funny things you said and did as a child and as you grew up. I remember praying that some part of you was still in me. Some trait that would definitely define who I am today.
My career is to research family history. It's not only my career, but it's also deep in my heart. I close my eyes and imagine being with you at that moment in time. I grieve with you, when you lost your loved one in the Civil War. I remember tears quickly filled my eyes when I imagined you crying when they told you your son was killed in a war. I pictured you holding the American Flag so tight to your chest. I grieved with you when you lost your loved one in the fire. I felt your joy when your wife gave you a new baby boy or baby girl. I felt your pain when your wife died during labor. I felt your uneasiness while traveling from Virginia to Kentucky in the early 1800's. I felt how scary and sad it was to leave your family behind and to move on with your husband and children.
I remember tears flowing down my cheeks when you couldn't travel back home to attend your parents funeral. I feel the pain you felt during different trials in your life, I remember wishing I could have been there to comfort you.
I wonder if you were here today if you would think I look like you, I wonder if you would be proud of me? I wonder if you would say "wow, I used to do the same thing."
I research and my heart sinks in to every aspect of your life. Whether you're a grandparent, aunt, uncle, cousin, I still wonder about you and the life you lived. Sometimes it breaks my heart when I try to be apart of your life and I know the torture you went through. Or the tragic death you had or the tragic death of a loved one that you had to witness, or grieve for. When I sit by your headstone at the cemetery, I want you to know that although I may have never met you or you left my life too soon, my heart is still apart of you. I carry the same pain, the same happiness, the same moments you carried. That's why I continue to research about your life. So I can share it with others. So they too, can take a walk through a history that they may or may not have been a part of. So they can share the heart of a family member that shaped and formed the path that their lives have taken. Did a choice you made in the past, affect our family history? Did it affect the choices we make?
You're in my heart and always a part of who I am today!
