Lost Cousins

Every Tuesday, I drive to Baltimore to visit my mom and take her to lunch (also to water her African violets, clear out all the 'doggie-bag' boxes in her refrigerator (why does she bring back a container of chocolate milk EVERY DAY from dinner and not drink it?), make sure she is taking her meds, deliver anything she has requested, and, just generally, make sure she is okay.) Mom is almost 92, and while she is in an 'independent living' facility, she is far from independent. Don't tell her I said so.

In any case, I generally approach each visit with the foot-dragging non-enthusiasm of a teenager sentenced to visit with a roomful of elderly maiden aunts. Mom's memory loss is sufficient to try the patience of Job; she repeats and repeats and repeats any observations, questions, complaints, or news items that have become lodged in her mind. The loop replays on an average of every five minutes, unless interrupted by another stray thought. I generally spend three or four hours inventing distractions, thus sparing myself from active rudeness or repetition that rivals water-torture.

This week, I was presented with two sheets of computer paper. (Mom does not own a computer, so someone must have sent or given it to her. ) Each one had a photograph on it--one of my great-grandfather and his wife, another of my grandparents and their nine children. I had never seen either picture before, but my mom insisted I had given them to her. Examining them more closely, I saw that they had come from the genealogy site Ancestry.com, and bore a couple different usernames. I tried to explain that if I copied down these usernames, I might be able to get better copies of the pictures for her. I pocketed the sheets (memory loss works in my favor sometimes; she forgot about the pictures as soon as they disappeared from view) and decided to try and track down whoever was interested in the family--perhaps a cousin, of whom I have quite a few, or even one of their children. Mom is doubtless one of the oldest family members around, and can sometimes summon up stories from way back, despite her inability to remember what she did yesterday. She might have something to offer a budding genealogist; it would certainly offer me a respite if she had something to focus on besides the shortcomings of her current situation.

So, upon my arrival home, I hit the computer. I belong to Ancestry.com, so it was a simple matter to type in my great-grandfather's name and search for pictures. I was astounded. Not only did I see mom's 'found' pictures, but there were also many others, including a wedding picture featuring one of my aunts. I clicked on it, mainly to see if it included my mom, but was informed that it was a picture kept private by the person who uploaded it--but I could send a message and request. Which I did.

Almost by return email, I received a note from someone who--it turned out--was the granddaughter of one of my mother's uncles. (I think that makes us 2nd or 3rd cousins.) It sounds crazy to say that I'd never even heard of her or her grandfather, but in the world of my mother's family, there are many mansions. Or, actually, many farmhouses. Both my grandparents came from families of 10 or more children. The younger ones didn't really know the older ones that well, and while they all lived in the same area, they often did not have much contact as adults. My mother might have made passing references to her Aunt Molly--but I never met her. Her Grandpa Riedel died when mom was 6 or so..and several of the uncles had left the area looking for jobs when she was quite small. It was the '20s after all. I suspect that mom knew more of her Riedel aunts and uncles than her younger siblings--if only because she was the oldest and was more capable of registering names and faces than her younger brothers and sisters.

Anyway, Great-Uncle Harry's granddaughter and I are now communicating. She lives in Florida and has three grandchildren there. While some of the photos are hers, there are others that are not--that may lead to other 'lost' family members. I'm scrambling now to put together a sort of family tree for mom to look at next week, and maybe print down some pictures for her. They may mean nothing to her, but there's always a chance that she'll have a story or two to add to the mix. And I have all those other photos to track down. Excelsior.