My mother-in-law died last month. A former biology and physical education teacher, she raised her family with the same steely discipline and meticulous planning that prevailed in her classroom. But it wasn’t until we deconstructed her house that I comprehended how deeply this sense of discipline extended to her recordkeeping and daily life.
As my husband and his sister sorted through Mabel’s furniture and household belongings, I was asked to sift through her collection of photographs, personal history information, and correspondence. I was stunned to find that Mabel had kept every letter, holiday card and post card sent to her over the past 60 years! Organized by year and rubber-banded into neat stacks, they were kept in shoe boxes stashed throughout her home.
A genealogist’s dream! But also, a genealogist’s nightmare! How does one begin to decide what to keep?
Box-by-box, I opened every letter and read every card: thank you notes from her grandchildren for long-forgotten Christmas gifts, letters from relatives whom I had never met, cards sent by friends in far-away places. Each was a treasure for Mabel, but not necessarily for her descendants.
After fifteen minutes of casual perusal, the time of reckoning had arrived. I grabbed an extra-large trash bag and reluctantly put it on the floor next to my feet. Toss, toss, toss, keep. The minutes ticked by and the trash bag filled. Another replaced it. My “keep” pile was growing with the items I felt were of most worth: family letters and an occasional card with a handwritten note. Sorted by author, I am now bringing them back to their sources with an expression of gratitude for remembering Mabel over the years.
I’ve brought home boxes of Mabel’s personal and genealogical information. So much to scan, digitize and publish! So much more to learn about a woman I have known and loved for 32 years! I have chosen to write Mabel’s history so her descendants will learn from her, love her, and feel a connection to their past.
Now I look at my own filing cabinets, bulging with genealogy research notes. And my photo albums. And my boxes of slides. And my notebooks filled with journal entries.
Who will write my story? If I don’t, then someone else may reconstruct my years on earth based on their perspective, augmented by some physical remnants of my life. But tangible items cannot reveal an individual’s personal or spiritual growth – the fruition of mortal life. This must be done by the person himself.
There is no excuse. With today’s digital technology, we can scan hundreds of photos and store them in a miniscule space. We can make visual and audio recordings. We can write a personal history and have as few as one or as many as hundreds “printed on demand” and distributed to our family.
The records of our lives, documenting who we are and tracking who we have become, are the only lasting gifts we can leave our descendants.
I’ll do the best I can with Mabel’s story. But I vow to do much better with mine.
Carol Kostakos Petranek is one of the Directors of the Washington DC Family History Center and a Volunteer at the National Archives in Washington, D.C.
