Every July 24th, we Utah folk solve the dilemma of the leftover Independence Day fireworks. We love to stockpile, we hate to waste. Therefore, we set aside today to blow up the rest of our firework stash before it gets seized by the government... or worse, teenagers who will use them to blow up their friends' P.E. lockers.
Pioneer Day is a day of some contemplation, at least for people with ancestors. Ha! My ancestors were obviously not comedians. But in a rare moment of seriousness, I would like to express my gratitude for them, and I encourage you to do the same. I hate to leave my bedroom, REALLY dislike spending too much time outside (so much dirt) and consider a 2-hour drive an arduous expedition. What if we run out of Diet Mountain Dew? Our pioneer predesessors left their homes. Permanently. The people who drove them out did not check to ensure that they took their agorophobia-controlling medication with them. They did not care if they took their LIVES with them.
Even many of those who migrated voluntarily did so at great personal loss. Many people who came before us made staggering sacrifices, that their progeny (that's you and I, people) would not have to endure what they did. Many ancestors also royally screwed up the future for their kin, but in those cases ought we not to thank them for the challenge? No? Well, okay, we'll just talk about our favorite ones then. But just remember this: Every man or woman who came before us endured trials, weakness, pain, and heartache about which we know nothing. I would hate to imagine my grandchildren having little understanding of, or respect for, my life.
I have family members who LOVE to research family history, and this virus of curiousity has apparently been passed around at family reunions until it finally infected me. It is like the salmonella in the undercooked chicken casserole served at every such reunion, only salmonella is a bacteria, not a virus, and salmonella eventually leaves your system. Family history obsession is terminal. I am consumed. A girl suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder should never begin such an addictive activity, but alas it is too late. Somebody traced one of our lines back to 1022 AD, and I will not stop bragging about it, even though I contributed absolutely nothing to the endeavour.
I want to see my geneology back to Adam, so I can locate his journals and read what he was thinking when he gave animals names like "hippopotamus." I want to find humorous accounts written by Noah about life on the ark. Did the 500 species of cats try to climb into the cages of the 600 species of birds? How did he keep the anteaters from rendering the ants extinct? Why did he bother? Did he have to take ANY of those insects with him? Because I could have done without cockroaches.
Mostly, however, I want to learn about their lives so that I can more fully appreciate the people who helped shape me. (Not physically. I don't even want to know who is responsible for my over-sized nose.) I am of the school that teaches that I will see these people someday, and I hope to know them when I meet them.
I would love to hear accounts of your progenitors, and how it has affected who you are today. For those of you who have never looked into your geneology, I would love to see you do it! Then come back, and share some stories.
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