Monday, May 24, 2010


...are just that.  Relative.  

Spending time with my three oldest children aged 46, 43 and 41 last week brought back many thoughts of being a father many years ago.  I married early just after my 19th birthday but my oldest daughter was born in England three years later.  They say the cold bedrooms and perpetually cold and wet climate cause Americans to sleep closer together hence more children.  Apparently it did not work with me.  

My children are all interested in history and genealogy so it was fun to rehash my life and the lives of my ancestors.  As you get older the family history becomes more and more important as you realize your own mortality.  I have two first cousins who have worked hard on our gemology as well as my deceased mother when she was alive.  

I am always distressed when this nation of immigrants finds time to be prejudiced and bigoted toward the latest group of immigrants.  Even the American Indians are immigrants.  At some point in time there was no one living here.  

I would challenge all of you to look at your own family history and count the few years it has been since your family arrived in America.  It puts things into perspective.  

I am 75% Irish and 25% Swedish and both groups were outcasts 100 years ago.  Shame on them for being white and working hard.  Shame on us for believing that others are not the same.

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