Meandering thoughts

I'm taking a page from a fellow blogger's book and throwing up one post to bump another that really shouldn't stay at the top of my blog for very long ;)

My family on my mother's side descends from clan Campbell of Scotland - a number of generations ago my greatblahblahgreat grandmother Margaret Campbell eloped with the estate gardener, who was also named Campbell. They left Scotland and headed for Ontario, Canada. When my kids were small I had time and energy to explore family heritage a little. I visited cemeteries and found headstones of my predecessors, read clan histories, and quizzed elderly family members. My mom gave me an old family bible that was her great-grandmother's - a big book, you have to sit it in your lap to leaf through it. It contained a wealth of information about my family.

Not being particularly religious, it's a little surprising to me that I have somehow acquired a small collection of old family bibles. They're old books, and that appeals to me - they smell good, and feel good. They've been passed down and held by many hands. But what's most to me interesting is that they also serve as a history of sorts.

Back then, the bible was a focal point of family life. In addition to the usual readings and lessons the family may have enjoyed, it was a place of record keeping that was handed down from generation to generation. This old bible of my grandmother's has a long list of births and deaths posted on the inside cover. Between the pages there are wedding announcements, birth and death announcements, notes, awards, newspaper articles, feathers, photographs, napkins, legal paperwork, and all sorts of other goodies that someone felt important enough to slip in this book that stayed with the family.

I learned a lot about my family flipping through those pages. When things happened, and to whom. What was important enough to keep or record. Most of the family tree I constructed was the result of this record keeping. Each time I perused the book I found something I'd missed; it was fun and intriguing.

I have an old wool tartan that my mom was kind enough to pass on to me - I don't know how old it is, but it was my great-grandmother's at one point. I curl up under it on cool nights - my kids have grown up knowing it as the 'precious blanket' and know that it never ends up on the floor or under the dog.

I love old things that have belonged to those before us, I hold on to them. I hadn't realized I'd instilled this sort of reverence in my kids to some degree - they each have a few 'precious things' they've already accumulated in their young lives, things that speak to them of family connections and their history. It's neat.