WHY WOULD I CARE ABOUT THEM?

When I first began my genealogy quest, I had a discussion with my mother in law.  She related a story to me about a cousin of hers who was also interested in genealogy.  He apparently showed an aunt all the names of ancestors he had found, and she said "Why would I care about them?  They're all dead."

I think that's how a lot of people feel who have never caught the genealogy bug.  And although I personally never felt that way about my ancestors, I do have to admit I was largely indifferent to a search for them - until a few years ago, shortly after I had lost both of my parents, when I realized I had no ongoing connections to any of my mother's or father's families.  Sure, I still had a few cousins and an aunt and two uncles, but they lived across the country from me, and I had little contact with them.  From the time my parents decided to move from the midwest to California (when I was ten) I had only sporadic contact with anyone in either family.  And so I largely grew up without extended family.  This was a huge contrast with my husband's experience.  He grew up with dozens of relatives in his very large Croatian family.

Once I began building my own family tree, I also began to learn a lot about the two families of my parents.  My dad's Irish family (the Brennans) was incredibly interesting, as I had a lot of written material about them, thanks in large part to one relative who became a priest and wrote down much about his immigrant grandparents and his experience growing up around them.  I also learned some about my paternal grandmother's family (the Shaws), with some branches going all the way back to the early American colonies.  And I had a good understanding of my mother's maternal family - the Schuliens from Germany - much of it thanks to one of my second cousins, Tim, who not only has been doing genealogy himself, but lived near all the relatives and has an endless reservoir of stories about them. 

But one family I knew very little about was my mother's paternal ancestors: the Muellers who hailed from Belgium. The reason I knew little about them was because they were never part of my life. My mother's father, Alfred, died when she was only 4 years old, and so I never even had a chance to meet my grandfather.  I also have no recollection of meeting any of his relatives.  So although my mother's maiden name was "Mueller" and I knew her siblings and nieces and nephews named Mueller, I knew no one else from the Mueller family.  For all the years I've been working on genealogy, I've had a desire to know more about them, and to contact someone who still bears the Mueller name in the extended family.  Until now, that desire has remained unfulfilled.

My cousin Jim and I have both attempted to contact Mueller second cousins with no success, but just yesterday, Jim emailed to say he had contacted a Mueller and hoped to learn more about the family.  His contact is one of the many second cousins we share, and I feel like a whole new part of the family has opened up to us.  Jim sent part of a genealogy report he received on one branch of the family, and I have since included all the names into my family tree.  Of course, these are just names, and my hope is that both Jim and I can meet one of two of these relatives at some point.  I even believe a few may be in California, so there may be an opportunity for me to meet someone without traveling across country.

One of our hopes is that the family can send us a picture of our great grandparents, Charles and Susanna Wagner Mueller, both of whom died before we were born.  We have never seen a photograph of them, and we are hoping someone in the family has such a picture.  We are also hoping to hear stories about our ancestors who are "all dead" - our great grandparents, as well as great uncles and aunts, and cousins. 

This brings me back to the question:  "Why would I care about them?"   I care about them because they are a part of my family.  And even though I never knew them, they share something with me - other relatives, DNA, a heritage, family traditions, etc. And knowing them, if only by name, makes me feel less alone, and part of a much larger family. 

But genealogy does even more than that.  I'm reminded of the inscription on a plaque dedicated to another relative, Ralph Brennan, who died defending a bridge in France during World War II. On the plaque, placed on the bridge over the river Moselle in France, are the words: " Men die two times, once on the day of their deaths, the second time when no one speaks of them.By this gesture, we hope that Lt. Brennan will not die a second time."  

That's what genealogy is to me - a chance to keep people alive in our memories, a way of preventing that second death, when no one speaks of them again.  To me, these people are not dead.  Their lives meant something, and should be remembered and celebrated.  They added something to this world, and though they may not have helped to save a town, like Ralph Brennan, they made their own contributions, and I want to know who they are.