Intellectually, I knew it would happen. But emotionally, I am so unprepared. This is the first Christmas without my mother or father, or my father-in-law or mother-in-law. Earthly missions completed, they are now joyfully reunited. Earthly mission in progress, I scramble to fill the hole in my heart.
Now, more than ever, I am so thankful I took the time with both my parents and in-laws to write their personal memories, identify their photographs and record their oral histories. This was a 30-year process! Their part is over, but mine is not. Documents and pictures have been stacked in my project room, ready for the slow whine of the scanner. Fifteen cassette tapes of interviews with my father-in-law have been sitting for years, waiting to be transcribed (I do test them occasionally – thank heaven, they have not deteriorated yet).
I have learned — through sad experience — that spending an hour with an elderly relative now can save years of research-induced frustration. The story you capture today will be the one you won’t struggle to reconstruct tomorrow. Consider how you can take advantage of the vast store of knowledge surrounding the dining room table this holiday season.
Recently, the FamilySearch.org newsletter published several ingenious ways to integrate genealogy into family gatherings; see Have Fun with Genealogy During the Holidays. With powerful new smartphone and tablet apps, even the youngest techie in the family can be drawn into the joy of genealogy.
Although my Christmas family circle is smaller this year, my spirit is buoyed by loving memories and tangible fragments of my parents’ lives. I am honored to be the guardian of these testaments of mortality.
As the New Year dawns, I will be organizing and scanning, transcribing and writing. My parents gave me the gift of mortal life. I will give them the gift of perpetual remembrance.
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.
