There has to be at least one genealogy-happy person in each generation to keep the family heritage alive and growing. I am it for my generation of Nikander children. I have a brother, a sister and two guy cousins….NONE of which is even slightly interested in old fuzzy photos, dusty family Bibles or traipsing through cemeteries to take pictures of headstones. I am it. (Stop rolling your eyes, Christy.)
Somewhere in my journeys I saw a beautiful photo display wall of all the the female ancestors of some such person, whom I forget the identity of at present. It inspired me. About eight years back I painstakingly copied all the old family photos that I could get my grubby little hands on and started a heritage scrapbook album. But still in the back of my mind, I could see the wall of women… women who carried on family names and traditions. Fast forward to about two years back when I found a darling oval frame with a mat that could hold seven pictures. I envisioned my female ancestors looking out from those holes. I brought it home, painted over the glittery silver finish with a flat off-white and hung the frame on the wall….. waiting for the photos.
The photos that I gathered were ALL the wrong size. So the empty frame hung on my wall for years. (yes, I know, embarrassing.) Then I read a story from the book Welcome to the Funny Farm about a blank frame on that author’s wall… and I got things in motion once again. On Memorial Day, this past Monday, my dear father scanned, re-sized, touched up and got my seven matronly photos to fit my framed mat. Thanks, Dad. In honor of dear old dad, I decided to put my Paternal Female Ancestors in the frame, being that I happened to have seven pictures.
So, yesterday I had out-patient surgery to remove some fatty lipomas from my neck, that were obviously lost and never found my backside. So today, I finally printed the names and dates of the dear ladies and finished the eight year project. Ta Da! I love it. I realize what a treasure it is to have Great Great Great Grandmother pictures…. and I’m hoping and praying that someday I can give this to the solitary person in the next generation who will love and appreciate it too. I’m thinking it might be my niece, Katelyn. Since she was two she was fascinated with who was whose sister, mother, daughter. Keeping my fingers crossed. She called me once to ask what percentage of nationalities she was. See! I’m the only one with the valuable, treasured information for the next generation.
My Sister's Jar 