OUR LEGACY: Leaving Breadcrumbs

In my genealogy class last week, I was asked, “why do you write“. My first answer was I write for myself. My second answer was I write for posterity. But since then I have been pondering this provocative question. Which really is a broader question? Why do we exist? What are we here for? What will we leave behind? What will our legacy be? Will we soon be forgotten? I am not sure I am prepared to answer those existential questions. However, I am prepared to grapple with these things.

My last blog post was Write What You Know: Research What You Don’t & Beware of Artificial Intelligence Generated Answers and I wrote about how we need to view our ancestors in context. That we cannot view their lives in isolation as if they lived devoid of family, friends, geography, history and what was happening around them. So in part I write to look at my own life in the context of history and the ancestors who laid the groundwork for my existence. I am essentially looking for myself in my own context. But more than that, I also write to understand. I want to understand the past, as it informs the present.

“Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.”

George Santayana

I write to understand what I don’t know. I write because it forces you to do your homework and not just rest on the work of others. In my first genealogy class one of the members said, “my family has all been done, there’s nothing to do.” I am fairly certain they no longer feel that way. It’s not just our ancestors that we seek to understand, but it is ourselves. I write and encourage others to write, because it takes courage and I want others to be inspired to take the risk. Especially these days it isn’t always easy to put yourself out there. Especially when no one seems to be listening. But that should not deter us, do it anyway. The doing of it, is its own reward.

As I research and discover more about my ancestors, it brings broader themes of history into focus and it casts an illuminating light on my own family history. Whether you are adopted, or your family kept lots of secrets or whether books have been written of your family there is always more to discover from your unique perspective. No two human beings see things the same way. Whether siblings or spouses each will have different insights and different recollections of events. We are the result of millions of years of genetic experimentation and expression along with the shaping hands of our moment in time and space.

I write because I am curious; because I am wired to seek understanding.  And it isn’t just understanding—I care about the answers. I care about how the choices we make outlive us and ripple and reverberate through time. We walk along the sandy shoreline, leaving footprints in the sand. Those prints are short lived, washed away in an incoming tide. Gandhi said it better than I:

    “Whatever you do in life will be insignificant but it is very important that you do it because you can’t know. You can’t ever really know the meaning of your life. And you don’t need to. Every life has a meaning, whether it lasts one hundred years or one hundred seconds. Every life, and every death, changes the world in its own way. You can’t know. So don’t take it for granted. But don’t take it too seriously. Don’t postpone what you want. Don’t leave anything misunderstood. Make sure the people you care about know. Make sure they know how you really feel. Because just like that…It could end.”

Mahatma Gandhi

We are unique and we have something to communicate. It’s not up to us what if anything survives us: history decides. Whether it is me retracing the path of YDNA from Prague 4000 years ago to a WHEATON, born over 400 years ago which traces to my husband. It matters. My great grandmother’s diary matters. Another great grandmother’s colored pencil drawings matter. They are all breadcrumbs leading us to places we never imagined.

They give us glimpses into what mattered to them. Art painted on a cave wall. Grave goods from 4,000 year old burials. Carvings on a prison wall in The Tower of London. There is always an attempt by some of the powerful to eliminate the silenced voices from history. Resist.

So take the risk, write the letter, the story. Paint the scene, give voice to the voiceless. Leave your breadcrumbs for others to discover.

Kelly Wheaton ©2024 – All Rights Reserved