I Mean, Really?

Those ancestry sites are cool,
Somewhat impersonal, though,
For it’s in knowing the family
That truth and myth become one.

What of time travel?
Could I have been married to my wife before?
The paper from the 18th century makes it seem possible,
Or at least our families came together then.

What of happenstance?
Could I have grown up with my wife’s relatives,
Chasing horn toads on the rural dust bowl of Granbury
When Nixon was on trial and the lake was just getting started?

What of blood?
The type that is real, making the donor a king,
Making the vampires drool.
Is that the key to cities in Virginia and Texas?

Conversations, that’s what makes families tick,
Learning about the past, sometimes strokes of luck,
Sometimes arranged at the altar,
The happenings even too much for television writers.

Imagine though, the things in your family, like
A Texas football legend losing it all in a basketball game
Becoming a roofer and finding a light in his mid-twenties
And marring a seventeen year old min the oil fields of west Texas.

Whatcha got, the things in your family, like
A young lawyer getting too old to not be married
Being fixed up for good with a younger beauty
Who sunbathed topless well into her eighties.

You don’t got that, but I’m sure the stories are there,
Just get with your peeps and write them down,
Find out the dirt, the joys, and keep the going,
That’s what families are about.

Note: A few weeks ago, I cleaned out a box of photographs. In the mix were photos from way back. Digging them out has unleashed the memories and conversations about our family. I’m loving it!

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