Journaling My Mother’s Home

Family history

I experienced a serendipitous moment this morning. On Facebook, I found a page for St. Augustine, Florida. I could feel my mother’s presence. However, she is no longer with me. She passed away years ago. Anyway, it just felt so magical to unexpectedly find so many photos of the place she called her childhood home.  I just felt so happy. If I could do it, I would travel there this very week. I have the feeling my next thought would be to move there for the rest of my life. It’s such a beautiful place.

The odd thing is that on a genealogical site I never found St. Augustine, Florida as my mother’s birth home. I always came up with Georgia. I know Georgia is just as beautiful as St. Augustine. I just want to know the truth. Where was my mother born?

Does it matter? I think so. I think Family History is very important. No knowledge of my family background is like feeling lost in a dark place every day. I keep trying different door knobs. Each door knob is locked. I can’t get in. It leaves me to wonder if there is something shameful in my past. If there is something shameful, don’t I have the right to know it? Don’t I have the right to struggle with the truths that have made me who I am? Perhaps, I will pay another visit to a genealogical site. Seeing St. Augustine made me want to do research again.

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