Our Ancestors Live on in Our Children

[Laura Weldon]

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We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies. ~Shirley Abbott


A cousin visited from Maine recently. She asked for updates on the family. When I told her that an uncle had surgery on a drooping eyelid she was intrigued. She too had surgery for the same thing. Her doctor told her the problem was due to years of stretching the skin to put in contacts. How could she have known that this tendency ran in the family? How could she have imagined that there might be greater reasons for one’s eyes to close to what can be seen? The ‘reasons’ for being who we are, for displaying the traits we consider our own are complex and often hidden from our understanding.

There are many underlying characteristics passed down in families. In my family we’re prone to such issues as heart palpitations, stomach problems, anxiety. We also tend to become teachers, clergy, academics. These are facts that can be easily traced. Some things are less easily traced but just as pronounced. When I was a new parent, the legacy of my ancestors rarely occurred to me. I saw my newborn babies as wondrously made beings with talents and personalities that would unfold in time. But as I held, nursed and rocked my babies I found in myself certain ingrained beliefs that surely had passed to me through bloodlines or in invisible waves. My own parents hugged me and told me they loved me every day, but they also fought against a powerful sense of worthlessness that pervaded their daily lives. As a child I sensed this in my mother’s suppressed anger and in my father’s hidden sorrow. When my children were babies my own feelings of worthlessness came out in me full force. By what means had these feelings become mine? Then I remembered how fully I identified with my parents. My father’s frugality, learned during the Depression and followed forever after, was passed on to help his children learn economy in their ways. To me, it was a pervasive mystery why I was permitted the light from a lamp let alone birthday gifts. I’d absorbed my father’s childhood pain. My mother emphasized her sacrifices on behalf of others, hoping for enough appreciation to fill hungry gaps in her life. I learned to sacrifice as quietly as possible so that I would gather no perfunctory gratitude, absorbing her childhood misery without the redemption she sought. These were not healthy adaptations, yet I believe children take on the stories of those who are close to them as if by osmosis. It is one of the tasks of humanity to bring one’s tribe into the light of greater understanding.

The sorrow and pain we take on are a legacy that we can overcome, and in some way the overcoming is not only a victory for ourselves but also a triumph for our entire bloodline. Changing the energy around who we are affects who are loved ones have been and will be. The more I learn about quantum physics the more I understand this to be true.

It’s not all about overcoming difficulty. It’s also about living out the gifts given by those who have gone before us. As my children get older I find something ‘clicks’ when I notice attributes in them that were present in their ancestors. I see these traits all the time. My research-minded, highly technical grandfather would recognize my sons. A grandmother and great-great uncle who taught Latin and the classics would find kinship with my daughter. I see myself in relatives who wrote letters to newspapers, searched for spiritual meaning and had highly idealistic views of the future. Even in day-to-day preferences I see commonality. My own mother loved mysteries, scorned shoes in favor of sandals and adored rich desserts much like my daughter. My husband’s grandfather was always tinkering with equipment much like my sons. When I come across things these relatives left behind I give them to my children. A ring, a book, a pair of binoculars once owned by long-gone relatives carry meaning with them, even more so because I tell my children what they have in common with these people. I also try to keep alive the stories of their relatives’ lives as best I can. In this way we are the living memory of those who have gone before us. To be aware of this is to consciously carry forward what we choose from our rebellious, curious, compassionate, inventive, wild, spirited, loving, angry and freedom-seeking ancestors. That we exist is a testament to their endurance. Who we are is a choice, made in the context of many generations.

[Urmila Anna Samson]

Beautifully put, Laura. I have often cursed and often praised heaven for the 'gifts' of my ancestors. I identify strongly with both my grandmothers, each so different, each so beloved. Long ago I secretly dedicated my long, arduous and so far completely invisible life's work (of changing the way education is perceived) to them both.

One so devout, gentle yet mischievous...We called her Avinha, Portuguese for 'little grandma'...her special hands braiding my hair neatly for Sunday mass...The other bustling about efficiently, showing me how to stand with shoulders back and chin a bit lifted, hair brushed fashionably, trying to delay as much as possible getting to mass! Avinha lived in the little town of Dharwar and carried coins to give beggars, while Grandma lived in the big metropolis of Bombay and shooed beggars away and then watched intently where they went, silently noting the 'boss' making his collections in a secluded corner. Avinha cooked and baked, made delicious jams and preserves and had a wall cupboard filled with homemade wines she added to every year. Grandma hated cooking and was restless to work and design homes. She could fix everything in the home, having learned carpentary, plumbing and electric work along with her brothers from their father. That is quite rare for an Indian woman even today. It was perhaps because her mother died when she was two. Not having a mother's influence, she turned into quite a free thinking woman who disregarded certain social norms and did things very differently from her peers.

My grandfather came down heavily on my father when he wanted to go into theatre. No son of such a long line of teachers and lawyers could go off and lead a Bohemian life. I had no idea of this until my father told me of it recently. Unlike my father, I did not obey, and went off to lead my Bohemian life for many years, which I consider more of an education than any college could have given me. The books and conversations that my friends had were what influenced my decision to unschool and guide many of my decisions till today. My children are brought up half Bohemian!

My other grandfather served in a British company as an accountant. He spent some years in Persia living with my young grandmother in a tent amidst sandstorms! Grandpa took life on the chin and trusted Grandma with all the decisions even though she brought up their three girls in rather flamboyant style. But he wouldn't let her go out to work which was a great source of frustration for her adventurous and highly capable nature. He played good tennis and cricket. Has anyone taken after him? I can't tell. He bought a piano from some retreating Britisher for Rs.300/-. My mother completed her Licentiate from the Trinity College of Music, London on it. When she married, my father proudly bought her a piano so my grandparents sold their piano for Rs. 3000/- to some relatives. When the relatives were all emigrating to the States my mother bought the piano back for me for Rs.20,000/-. Today that piano is worth over Rs.100,000/-, an original Bechstein specially tempered wood for tropical climates! That piano is going down to my descendants.

I take Laura's point, and have with full awareness tried to literally destroy 'bad ancestral baggage'. In fact I could become aware of it not so much in myself, but when it is almost too late and visible in the children. In unschooled families we are so extra close, our children probably identify with us even more strongly than other parent child relationships. I definitely feel extra responsible about watching myself and disciplining especially my tongue!

It's quite daunting, actually, to know that descendants will carry some of me forward.