The history of my family started back before any of us were born, back before history was recorded, before ink and pen, somewhere amongst a woman's arms and a man's kiss, somewhere in the middle of a heart and soul.
My father's and my mother's parents came from the Azores, the islands off of Portugal.
The history of my family took place sailing across the ocean, traveling and working across the fields, buying farmland, and prayer. I never thought about it before, but the long row of fences that surround the fields remind me of rosaries dangled between my grandparents and parents hands. Pray they did.
Faith rooted them.
Wooden shoes.
A photo of my grandparent's barn framed from wood from their barn.
A bird's nest.
The morning hour.
Farm animals in a row.
Details of the entrance to my childhood home.
Family history:
One after another.
My oldest niece Patti.
Names use to tell us where we were from.
Patti is not a Portuguese name. Chelsea is not a French name.
Alfonso was the first name in the large book containing our family history dating back to the 1500s.
Had I known that would I have named our son Sacha Alfonso?
Probably not.
I do not think Martin nor Chelsea will either.
Fifteen years ago we went to the Azorian island that my family was from.
The above photo of Sacha standing in front of the massive stone wall/fences that surrounded the fields.
My grandparents walked along those walls.
They did not know that their great-grandson would one day lean upon them as their grand-daughter took his photo.
Photos from several years ago:
Uncle Phil (My Father's sister's husband) and his daughter my cousin Julie (Sacha's Godmother who read at Chelsea's wedding) and Aunt Ann (my dad's youngest sister) and her oldest daughter my cousin Judy.
Some of my nieces and nephew Gina, Patti, Kate, Marie, Molly, Maci and blessed is he among women: George.
My brother's Mat wife Shelley and their daughter Marie.
Three of my four brothers.
My mother (the little blonde girl in the white dress) and her brothers, sisters, and her mother shucking corn.
My father, brothers, and my oldest niece and nephews (Chelsea and Sacha are part of this group).
My mom with the younger nieces and nephews
My baptism.
Father McGoldrick, my cousins-godparents, Craig and Mary, and my father standing on his tiptoes to catch the moment. My mother took the photo.
Family, you are where I am.
Our history is within us, being watered by our thoughts, prayers, actions, our choices, our faith in one another,
Our lives and it will continue.
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