My Life on a Plate

Roots

Too early for me to wake up today but no point lying in bed with the over active brain cell. I used to think if I got up earlier I'd achieve more but that's not usually the case. Must take some exercise today and NOT sit at computers too long. Famous last words. Most things I enjoy doing involve computers. My latest passion is genealogy. I started some research a few years ago but it fizzled a little when I couldn't get beyond a certain point. But a recent connection has renewed my enthusiasm.

A little about my background if anyone is interested. My father was stationed in the U.K. during the Second World War. An American Airforce pilot from St Louis, Missouri. In England he met my mother and the rest is history as they say. My sister was born here in Nottingham but then the family returned to the States. I was born there five years later, but by that time my mother was homesick and not enjoying the climate. So, when I was one year old, they returned here on The Queen Elizabeth to settle.

As a small child I used to get angry that no one ever believed me when I told them I was American. In those days it was the place of Hollywood film stars, Cowboys and Indians and totally inaccesible. At sixteen, I acquired my first U.S. passport , having been refused British Citizenship. It caused some problems and a lot of interest whenever I travelled to Europe. When I married I assumed I'd automatically become British, having married an English man but on principal swore to retain my American passport as I find the whole scenario ridiculous. I discovered only last year that this is not the case and I am still not a British citizen, despite having lived here and paid taxes all my life. Still, I won't lose any sleep over it. I don't think there's any reason to be proud to be British. Anyway, I'm rambling.

I know there are other writers on this site with mixed parentage and maybe they'd relate to this feeling I have of missing out on half my life. As a child I'd contemplate what my life would have been like if the family had stayed in the States and I suppose as I've grown older a certain amount of resentment has spiralled at this restless need to find family over there. My dad has quite a large family but his contact grew less frequent and despite still having an American accent, his life has been mainly in Britain. I have tried and tried via the internet to link up with my family over there. I've had a few links, found a few second and third cousins but never succeeded in putting the picture together.

A couple of weeks ago I receved an e-mail from someone in California enquiring if I was a relative and I knew immediately this man is my first cousin. Since then things have snowballed and I've gathered lots of information from this branch. I cried when I managed to reconnect with a female cousin I used to write to up until teenage years interfered. It's gone quieter now, as all things do, but the connection is now in place and has given me the determination to keep on plugging. As I look at the huge piece of paper, tracing my American family back to the seventeenth century it gives me a sense of belonging and makes me accept how small our place is on this planet. For me, it has been a wonderful time of discovery and I still feel maybe, just maybe, there is a chance to visit my birthplace. Not today though! lol

Right, going to get sorted. Get thee behind me computers, until I've completed those neglected tasks, taken some fresh air and exercise and maybe even expand some of my unfinished stories. Dream on I hear you say.