Writing a blog has many benefits, such as updating your friends on what’s happening in your life, sounding off about a subject you’re passionate about, or bragging about your grandchildren. OK. I admit it. I use this page for all of these reasons, but today, I want to share a discovery I made, through or because of my blog.
I was surprised to learn the other day that while seeing if my “About Mary” needed updating, people really do read that section and that you can actually make a comment there. I guess I never read that far down the page to see that some people I know had left messages. I’m sorry I never responded to you, if you were one of them. But I did respond to one who had left her comment in June of last year. OMG. I hope she didn’t think I had blown her off. She said that our grandmothers were sisters, naming them and mentioning other memories of having visited when we were very young. . I was absolutely ecstatic. I thought I was the only living person in my generation in my family, as my mother once said, “the last little leaf on that branch.” I have been sad about that, because I thought there was no one left in this world who could reminisce with me, who could share memories, and fill in the missing pieces. I figured out that her mother and mine were first cousins, but I don’t recall my mother’s talking about her or her children. Now here appears my second cousin, which to me is just as important as a first cousin. I won’t mention her name here, except to say that she knows who she is, and although I have responded to her twice and have sent her my email, I am waiting with eager anticipation to hear from her again. Maybe she isn’t as thrilled as I am to find a cousin I didn’t know I had, because it has taken 18 months for me to read her note. . She said in her comment that she had sent my mother some family information when Mother was working on our genealogy but of course, being totally blind, I haven’t seen it. But I intend to try to find her on Facebook or other social media. Her first name is the same as my beloved aunt, and I suspect there was a reason for that. Maybe not, but it might be a connection even she didn’t know we had.
At this time of year when families gather for the holidays, it’s especially meaningful to me to know that this woman exists, so even if we never connect again, it’s a gift to me to have heard from her, if only just this once.
Author of “The Bumpy Road to Assisted Living A Daughter’s Memoir”
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