Years ago I watched a TV mini series called Roots. It was based on an Alex Haley novel about his own roots starting with his ancestor Kunta Kinte. The series followed the journey of Kunta Kinte and his descendants right up to Alex. I found the story riveting and enjoyed watching it. I’m not sure if the book or the series is still available since it was so long ago but if you can find either it may be worth your time to read or watch.
My own story isn’t riveting by any means. But it is mine and it’s a simple one.
Both my parents were Hungarian. My dad was born in Hungary and my mom was the first Canadian born in her family to parents both born in Hungary. At around 6 years old my dad emigrated with his mother and siblings to join his father who had emigrated over 5 years previously to Ontario. My mom’s parents emigrated separately to Ontario. Like my dad’s father, my mom’s father came first to settle in. Then he sent for my grandmother and their two children a few years later.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to live an ocean apart from your spouse for a considerable amount of time, but both sets of grandparents did. And they remained married. Amazing.
There are many people who have stories, some similar, some that include hardship and some that don’t. One thing we all share in common is that these stories all are a part of our history and most likely had a big influence on us.
I’ve not traced further into my roots as I’m content with what I do know today. Maybe some day I’ll make it a project and delve into the past. There may be some interesting stories there. Or not.
How about you? Have you traced your roots?
Until the next time.
What bravery on our grandparents part …can you imagine …you don’t know the language and you need work to live and provide for your family …..I give them all utmost respect and admiration….quite a story indeed!!
Apparently I have a potential Portuguese ancestor way back around the early centuries according to my mom, but it’s something I’ll never know as things like birth certificates or any other identification didn’t exist in Bangladesh at the time. However, according to my dad, my grandpa (his dad) was the mayor of the village he served as mayor from 1948 until his death in 1976.