On my latest trip to visit my mother, she showed me the results of an “ancestry” DNA test. I always knew where I came from on my father’s side, but my mom’s was much more of a mystery. I had developed many theories as to the origins of my mom’s family; most of which were apparently wrong.
As it turned out, the test indicated that almost 2/3rds of my ancestors on my mom’s side were from Great Britain.
I cannot even begin to tell you how not within my personal schema that information was; how fervently I lived within the alternate theories of national and ethnic identity I had developed for myself.
When I visited England over 20 years ago, I felt as if it was a place I had absolutely zero personal connection to, other than the fact that I read authors like William Shakespeare and Alan Moore. And yet I would have dreams for years afterward indicating that this was an area that was an “origin” place of sorts, a place to go back to…dreams that I interpreted as being purely metaphorical.
Even now, I partially believe the test my mom took must have been faulty…that this just does not fit into my schema.
And life is like this; all these little bits about yourself revealed, shaking what you knew to the core.
Is there anything else I should know? It’s a weird time right now in the world. I’m ready.