I am half way through my sixty-first year. I never thought I would live this long because my dad and his dad, my paternal grandfather, both died young.
My sister Terri gave Gail and I AncestryDNA kits for this past Christmas. It was a unique gift. I can’t believe I willingly spit into a tube and sent my spittle off to who knows where to be “tested” to find out as much as I could about who and where I came from but I did.
Growing up neither side of our family’s relatives were well known to us. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t curious enough (I was or at least I thought I was) or it wasn’t talked about with “the children”. I don’t know which case it was still to this day. I think it wasn’t by design. Who knows at this point.
Shortly after my Dad’s death my Aunt Kay made a photo album our my Dad’s family with a short family tree. My dad had five brothers and four sisters. She also said that she researched where the “Melancon’s “ had come into the United States from Nova Scotia. What I was told was that all the Melancon’s in the United States were from two brothers who entered the U. S. with one settling near Chicago and one settling in Louisiana. My dad’s side comes from the “brother” who ended up in Louisiana. So if you are a Melancon and your ancestors are from Louisiana we are probably blood related.
Maybe the AncestryDNA will confirm that story. Maybe it won’t. Life is like that. Full of hope and unanswered questions. I certainly don’t expect a few million birthday wishes from all my kin in September.
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