As I've been cleaning out my house, I've been making discoveries here and there. Finding artifacts from 100+ years ago, for instance. Discovering that Grandma, who I have never seen read anything other than a newspaper, not only had a subscription to Woman's Day in the 'Eighties, she also had a few books! And it seems that she had authors she liked! The things I found most were pictures of people I did not recognize. I was able to surmise who some of them were (and confirmed I was right 75% of the time via my aunt, the only person older than me on my mom's side), but a lot of them are a mystery to me. I put these pictures aside, planning one day to find out who they were. If they were my ancestors, it would be useful information to have. I know what my great-grandparents looked like, and there are a few pictures in there that might be of my great-great-grandparents. I've been scouring their faces, trying to find a trace of something that would eventually become one of my features.
But yesterday I unearthed a box that said it was full of unused Christmas cards. Sure enough, that's what comprised the top layer. But as I dug deeper I discovered the receiving end of a correspondence my grandmother had with someone named Bessie. I have a sneaking suspicion it's her sister. I found further evidence of another Bessie, who I believe to be my grandma's aunt. But that's just me glancing through these letters. There are other letters, and it's helpful when they are addressed to, say, Aunt Shirley and Uncle John. I can easily figure out who they are. But the ones from the prolific Bessie are addressed to Shirley and John. Never John and Shirley, so I have to think she's a blood relative of Grandma's, or a close friend. But if she's named after the other Bessie, that's probably an indication of relation. And then there's another letter from someone named Barb simply addressed to Shirl. I only ever heard Gramps call her that. He also called her Squirrley when he was feeling playful.
I love a good mystery, and this one is pretty tantalizing for me. I've been gathering pieces of the puzzle and putting them with the pictures. One day, when I actually have leisure time (hahahahaha), I'm going to go through the mountain of evidence and solve this mystery (or series of mysteries, more like).
I know my dad's side of the family pretty well. I can't tell you how many aunts and uncles I have on that side, much less how many legions of cousins I have. My mom's side is shrouded with mystery. I have never met anyone from Gramps's family or Grandma's family. Never. I know the two of them. I know my mom and my aunt. I know my three brothers on this side, and I know my two cousins and their families. Nothing beyond that. I just know what my grandparents told me, and I recall them talking about their siblings occasionally, and when I was a kid they even traveled to visit said siblings. Every once in a while one of them would die, and they'd go to a funeral, but I was never along for these trips. I wonder why.
I know a few things about Gramps's family, but I know virtually nothing about Grandma's. I know her mom is buried next to her, that she died shortly before I was born. I know her family history is a mishmash of a bunch of stuff, but she was mostly English and German. I know Grandma's maiden name was Cota, and that her mom's maiden name was Friend (this last part gleaned from her birth certificate, another of my interesting finds). And that's it.
You all know how much I love to research, but it's a rarity that I'm doing research on, well, myself. The Bruni family has tons of lore, but the Cota and Kopoulos families? I didn't find out until two years ago that Gramps's name was Americanized. The actual name is Kyreakopoulos. That changed when his parents and uncle came to America.
(Funny side note. On Gramps's birth certificate, it says his dad's name was Nicholas Kyriakopoulos. I thought that was the actual name until I came upon his uncle's work ID and saw, in his handwriting, Kyreakopoulos. I've decided, Watson, what with my superhuman and brilliant sense of deduction (powered, I assure you, by a seven-per-cent solution), that I should trust Gramps's Uncle George over whoever filled out the birth certificate at the hospital.)
It suddenly occurs to me that I probably have two vast families related to me, and I have no idea who any of them are. Then again, how much do I know about my Grandma Laurette's parents? Or my Grandpa Lon's? My stepmom is big into genealogy, or at least she used to be. It was a hobby of hers at least the last time I was in Vegas, but that was almost a decade ago. I'll bet she has some info. Come to think of it, she's my second stepmom. I wonder whatever happened to my first. I know why she and Dad got divorced, but I only knew her when I was a child. It's possible she's still alive. I'd be curious to track her down sometime.
It's something to research, and I'm always happy when I have something to research.
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