I’ve been away for a few weeks; only now getting back in the saddle. We went to Scotland, where we did some castle searching (and finding) and graveyard tromping. Tom wanted to go home to the place of his nativity and I wanted to do some family tree research. Took tons of pictures and absorbed the countryside. Ate huge and hearty breakfasts and relished thick brogues (“I know we’re talking the same language, but I don’t understand a WORD you’re saying!”).
It felt good to find my roots, or at least a couple of them. I found a family mausoleum in Dumfries and family gravestones in Closeburn. Now, rather than being just names of birthplaces in my genealogy chart, the towns have real structure and texture in my mind. Family history became more real to me and I was moved by some of the things I learned.
I’m still absorbing it all.
Somehow the world is now a much smaller place to me and history is much closer.