Lovely. Like you, I had a very hard time with the idea of ancestors for a long time, until I learned that I could have chosen ones. My sister of the heart, Paula was the first person in my life to just love me - without condition. I was 31. I go to her in my heart a lot - and she was the person I heard greet my Amy in the afterlife in her beautiful English accent - "ooh, Amy luv. You're here!" And I knew she'd take care of my child. Since then I've identified some other chosen ancestors. thanks for this post. xx
What a beautiful story, Michal. I’m so glad Amy was a part of your life, and that she was there to greet your daughter. May the other ancestors you connect with lead to stories that are just as rich.
My grandmother’s shy but confident face smiles down on me above my little writing desk, a photo from her younger days, before I knew her. Up on the wall is another photo of her, the curly auburn dyed hair and her signature smile of contained joy caught by my Dad’s camera- the camera with the flashing bulb of light attached.
She oversees my morning pages, my writing circle Zoom meetings, and the plodding but peaceful writing of memories and experiences that I release onto the lined legal pad taking up most of the tiny space on this old secretary desk.
She sees me, follows me, and even seems to hold me as I struggle, or celebrate my writing.
Every room of our home holds some kind of item from her farmhouse in Wisconsin, her pieces of crocheted artistry, and spirit of “I am with you.”
I love that your grandmother is with you in this unassuming way as you go about your day, Karol. How beautiful. You describe her so vividly I can picture her cheering you on as you write.
Lisa, I absolutely love this! My mother died when I was 12 and was an alcoholic, so not able to be there for me in the ways I wanted, but in the last couple of years, I’ve been exploring who she was before she was an alcoholic and before she was my mother and it is helping me feel more connected to her. Your questions give me some ideas for thinking further about this.
First, I'm so sorry you lost your mother due to alcoholism when you were so young. Loss is always difficult, but when we're young because we haven't yet found what anchors us to this world. I so glad you're connecting with the woman she was before alcoholism had such a grip on her. I hope that learning more about her helps you see and explore new parts of yourself.
My paternal grandmother, Ruth Preble Staver (who I called Nanny or Nanny Ruth). She was my 'safe place' for much of my early life. She also lived with manic-depression in a time when this problem was not recognized for what it was, nor were there many treatments for it. She was the privileged / entitled only child of a 'man of stature' in a small town in Maine. She went to Washington, DC in her early twenties and worked as a secretary for the US Government. She met her husband-to-be (Leslie Dufor Staver -- Poppy) and they wed in 1919. My father was born in 1921, followed by two more boys. There's so much more about her -- very little of it 'trauma inducing' -- as I said, she was my safe place.
I'm so glad Nanny Ruth was your safe place when you were young, Leslie. She had to be one tough cookie to weather the ups and downs of bipolar disorder and be your safe space. What an incredible woman! Thank you for sharing a little of her life with all of us.
I spent decades rejecting my ancestors, because they were colonizers and (despite being liberal) subconsciously upheld the status quo. One day, not all that long ago, I turned to look at the women, and I saw a long line of maternal abandonment/loss. That was a huge aha for me. I’ve never considered writing about it, but maybe someday. It certainly adds depth to the core wound of “my mother died,” shifting it to an issue of generational trauma—something I hadn’t allowed myself to believe affected families with privilege.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us, Sarah. It takes courage to explore ancestral connections, especially when there's been harm—particularly if you were one of the ones directly impacted. I really admire your openness to the possibility of reconnection while also honoring your readiness and boundaries. That’s such a powerful act of self-care.
And yes—generational trauma is a significant issue in families with privilege. Our collective failure to recognize and address it is one of the key ways it continues to be passed down.
Yah, my ancestors have been up lately. My Mom was the writer, journalist actually. Reportage was her thing and I never resonated with her style. Well, we had a loaded relationship on every level . She sadly was not one I could turn to for support. And although my Aunt Lee didn't live near us, a developed a kinship with her in her later years. She became my cheerleader. I would turn to her for support and input with family drama, mainly with my sister. She always took my side, had my back. I felt 'seen' by her. I felt like of all the adults and authority figures in my life she seemed to have genuine affection for me. I draw upon her belief in me as I delve into my memoir. But also, I write for my mother in a voice she couldn't access. Her edit button was too firmly embedded. Thnx for the prompt to consider their impact. 💖🌟
Thank you so much for sharing this, Joelle! It was funny. The idea for this post came to me a couple of weeks ago, but on Monday morning, I was listening to an astrologer's forecast who said this is the perfect time to do some ancestry work. Looks like we're both right on time. Who have you decided to work with?
My paternal grandmother. I don’t know her as well as I would have liked due to complex family dynamics, but she lived out her life in Cairo where both of my parents were born. She loved reading and devoured books.
Lovely. Like you, I had a very hard time with the idea of ancestors for a long time, until I learned that I could have chosen ones. My sister of the heart, Paula was the first person in my life to just love me - without condition. I was 31. I go to her in my heart a lot - and she was the person I heard greet my Amy in the afterlife in her beautiful English accent - "ooh, Amy luv. You're here!" And I knew she'd take care of my child. Since then I've identified some other chosen ancestors. thanks for this post. xx
What a beautiful story, Michal. I’m so glad Amy was a part of your life, and that she was there to greet your daughter. May the other ancestors you connect with lead to stories that are just as rich.
I love this so much! I'm writing a novel based partially on my own ancestors, and so they're always in the room with me.
I love that your ancestors are fueling your fiction. How cool!
My grandmother’s shy but confident face smiles down on me above my little writing desk, a photo from her younger days, before I knew her. Up on the wall is another photo of her, the curly auburn dyed hair and her signature smile of contained joy caught by my Dad’s camera- the camera with the flashing bulb of light attached.
She oversees my morning pages, my writing circle Zoom meetings, and the plodding but peaceful writing of memories and experiences that I release onto the lined legal pad taking up most of the tiny space on this old secretary desk.
She sees me, follows me, and even seems to hold me as I struggle, or celebrate my writing.
Every room of our home holds some kind of item from her farmhouse in Wisconsin, her pieces of crocheted artistry, and spirit of “I am with you.”
I love that your grandmother is with you in this unassuming way as you go about your day, Karol. How beautiful. You describe her so vividly I can picture her cheering you on as you write.
Thank you for sharing your Grandma Bixby with us. She sounds like a wonderful person.
Thank you so much, Doreen, and thank you for always being a faithful reader of this Substack. Your time and attention are truly a gift!
Lisa, I absolutely love this! My mother died when I was 12 and was an alcoholic, so not able to be there for me in the ways I wanted, but in the last couple of years, I’ve been exploring who she was before she was an alcoholic and before she was my mother and it is helping me feel more connected to her. Your questions give me some ideas for thinking further about this.
First, I'm so sorry you lost your mother due to alcoholism when you were so young. Loss is always difficult, but when we're young because we haven't yet found what anchors us to this world. I so glad you're connecting with the woman she was before alcoholism had such a grip on her. I hope that learning more about her helps you see and explore new parts of yourself.
My paternal grandmother, Ruth Preble Staver (who I called Nanny or Nanny Ruth). She was my 'safe place' for much of my early life. She also lived with manic-depression in a time when this problem was not recognized for what it was, nor were there many treatments for it. She was the privileged / entitled only child of a 'man of stature' in a small town in Maine. She went to Washington, DC in her early twenties and worked as a secretary for the US Government. She met her husband-to-be (Leslie Dufor Staver -- Poppy) and they wed in 1919. My father was born in 1921, followed by two more boys. There's so much more about her -- very little of it 'trauma inducing' -- as I said, she was my safe place.
I'm so glad Nanny Ruth was your safe place when you were young, Leslie. She had to be one tough cookie to weather the ups and downs of bipolar disorder and be your safe space. What an incredible woman! Thank you for sharing a little of her life with all of us.
I spent decades rejecting my ancestors, because they were colonizers and (despite being liberal) subconsciously upheld the status quo. One day, not all that long ago, I turned to look at the women, and I saw a long line of maternal abandonment/loss. That was a huge aha for me. I’ve never considered writing about it, but maybe someday. It certainly adds depth to the core wound of “my mother died,” shifting it to an issue of generational trauma—something I hadn’t allowed myself to believe affected families with privilege.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us, Sarah. It takes courage to explore ancestral connections, especially when there's been harm—particularly if you were one of the ones directly impacted. I really admire your openness to the possibility of reconnection while also honoring your readiness and boundaries. That’s such a powerful act of self-care.
And yes—generational trauma is a significant issue in families with privilege. Our collective failure to recognize and address it is one of the key ways it continues to be passed down.
Yah, my ancestors have been up lately. My Mom was the writer, journalist actually. Reportage was her thing and I never resonated with her style. Well, we had a loaded relationship on every level . She sadly was not one I could turn to for support. And although my Aunt Lee didn't live near us, a developed a kinship with her in her later years. She became my cheerleader. I would turn to her for support and input with family drama, mainly with my sister. She always took my side, had my back. I felt 'seen' by her. I felt like of all the adults and authority figures in my life she seemed to have genuine affection for me. I draw upon her belief in me as I delve into my memoir. But also, I write for my mother in a voice she couldn't access. Her edit button was too firmly embedded. Thnx for the prompt to consider their impact. 💖🌟
I'm so glad these women populate your life and that you can give voice to their experiences.
I’ve been thinking about my ancestors and ancestry lately, so your post was synchronous! Thanks for the imaginative writing suggestions.
Thank you so much for sharing this, Joelle! It was funny. The idea for this post came to me a couple of weeks ago, but on Monday morning, I was listening to an astrologer's forecast who said this is the perfect time to do some ancestry work. Looks like we're both right on time. Who have you decided to work with?
My paternal grandmother. I don’t know her as well as I would have liked due to complex family dynamics, but she lived out her life in Cairo where both of my parents were born. She loved reading and devoured books.
Very cool! I hope you get a chance to learn more about her or at least what her life might have been like.