I didn’t think ancestors mattered until my life crumbled around me and I realized I’ve never come front and center with who I am and where I’ve come from.
Introspection has been my way of life over the last few years as I picked up the pieces of my life, my family and my career. How could things get more twisted than I ever anticipated? I was supposed to have an intact family, work for a Fortune 500 company until the day I retired (my choice not theirs) and earn my Ph.D.
It took me a meltdown over a layoff and a failed business venture gone kaput to realize that my plan was not a part of my destiny. In the middle of it all, life happened; and sometimes with many unpleasant experiences. I needed this meltdown to recoup and focus on what my life is really about.
I’m back. Back working on my Ph.D, not literally, but figuratively, as I research the meaning of life and all the opportunities that should have catapulted me into gravy land. And, thankfully, I’m doing it at my own pace and much more slowly than the first time around.
Through my search, I’ve found out that ancestry is one of those things that is a large part of the healing that is working for me to regroup and get back in the race. I’m peeling my onion ever so slowly to reveal a pretty honorable background of parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and on and on.
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