Family Stories Month - Cousins

My cousins have always been a big part of my life. I was an only child for the first 10 years of my life, but my cousins up the street substituted for siblings since we were together almost every day. My older cousin was our babysitter on bowling nights. We would put on puppet shows for her. 

I might not have seen my cousins who lived twenty minutes away as often, but I certainly saw them two or three times a week, so we were also very much a part of each other’s lives. I remember as each new cousin arrived, how excited we all were. How much love there was for the new baby. Everyone eager to hold, snuggle, kiss the new little clan member. 

We gathered for birthdays, Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years Day. We went places together –  Ontario Place, Wonderland, the Science Centre, Niagara Falls, vacations. I was the eldest and once I had my driver’s license, I would gather the cousins and away we would go. No parents. Just us. Thinking back on it, it was an incredible responsibility but at the time it was just a day to have fun together. 

My mum and her sisters had two cousins who lived within an hour’s drive. My aunt up the street spent a great deal of time with one of those cousins and we spent a great deal of time with the other. Those adult cousins were “aunt” and “uncle” to us and their children were our cousins. Deep connections were formed as we spent weekends together. We have a shared history and shared memories. 

I am also incredibly grateful for technology that allows me to be connected to my cousins up north (Northern Ontario) and my cousins across the pond. We can share photos, videos and keep each other updated on our families and lives. 

Cousins are peers, friends, comrades, confidants. I cherish each and every one of mine. And to those who have been with me from the start, I share this quote "God made us cousins because He knew our mothers could not handle us as siblings."

Family Stories Month - Family Visitors

 “We’re having company” This statement was usually issued at a family dinner – either one of the birthdays in March or April, or perhaps at Easter. It was the first indication every year that an aunt or uncle was coming to visit during the summer and this may or may not include their children as well. With my mum and her sisters being part of a very large sibling group (20 living children), we generally had family come for a holiday every year. Sometimes more than one sibling would come at a time or they would sort of book end one another.

 

This meant lots of time spent together. Welcome gatherings, dinners, lunches, tea, drop ins. It was fairly standard. My aunt up the street was usually where any company that came stayed while they were in Canada. Her door and our door were always open and often revolving with people in and out to spend time with whoever was over.

 

And the sightseeing day trips were also fairly standard – Niagara Falls, Dundurn Castle, Wonderland, St Jacobs or the Bell Homestead. But most days were just time spent together to enjoy each other, get caught up, reminisce and have a few laughs. It was at these get-togethers that we heard the family stories. Again and again and again.

Family Stories Month - Service

I was raised to understand “there but for the Grace of God, go I” And I have witnessed the truth in that more times than I care to count. Life can literally change in the blink of an eye. We are all one race – the human race – and we need to be our brother’s keeper to the best of our ability.   

My mum was very spiritual. She lived her Christian beliefs quietly and without need for accolades or fanfare. She never preached and often gave devout evangelicals a run for their money when they started spouting off. My dad was raised in a church going family. His mother was a Sunday School teacher. We went to church when I was younger. However, my dad had zero tolerance for people who are deeply religious but not terribly Christian and so he quickly decided that church was not or him. 

I attended a number of churches in my youth. Baptist, Anglican, Catholic, Presbyterian, Lutheran and even the Synagogue. For me, it’s not so much about organized religious groups, although I do appreciate that they provide a deep sense of community. For me, it is about serving others when we are called to do so or supporting others when life is proving difficult for them to navigate. Fortunately, my career allowed me to do just that in many different ways. 

A friend and I were fortunate enough to experience a brief mission in Jamaica. I attended twice, she attended several times. We were with a medical mission team and worked as support to the medical staff. We had the joy of being stationed at a hospital in Montego Bay and spent time with new mothers as well as on the pediatric ward. We went with the traveling teams out to the clinics in the outlying villages in the hills. And we loved it. It was an incredibly humbling experience. But the opportunity to chat with and support the locals was unrivalled. 

Once I became a mother, I knew that I wanted my children to also have the mission experience. And so we did. Twice we went on a family mission in the hills of southeastern Kentucky and provided VBS for the local kids.

My kids attended church and I taught Sunday School, but to me, the best way to help teach them compassion and the importance of service was by immersing them in the real world. At home, after our missions, we started volunteering at a local clothing room. My son actually won an award sponsored by the newspaper for his hours of volunteering at such a young age. My daughter also volunteered at the clothing room then moved on to volunteer at a teen parenting program. 

The kids were able to understand on a real-life basis that everyone is the same, it is merely our circumstances that are different, and life is so tenuous that any one of us could end up in similar circumstances so it was important to treat those who were struggling with the same dignity that we would want to receive. I am so incredibly blessed that both kids turned out to be caring, compassionate and helpful human beings who are also strong advocates for those less fortunate than them. 

Family Stories Month - Pets

 

One of the joys in our family comes from our pets. Pets have always had a special place in our family – both immediate and extended. When I was young, we had a black lab. My dad named him. McTavish McGregor McDonald. Dad made the wire rope that he attached to our clothesline for Tavish to have free reign in our yard without intruding into the neighbours’ yards. Fences weren’t really a thing back then. One morning, we discovered that Tavish had chewed his way through the drywall in the basement. He was relegated to our really large laundry/utility room but decided he should investigate the rec room. He got himself stuck in the duct work. He and dad were never really friends after that.

When I went away to college in PEI, I bought a dog. Regal. Named after the Buick car that was popular at the time. I used to take her to the ocean to run her. She had a great big personality. Many small dogs do.

Then when I moved to my own place back near my family home, I bought Libra. She was amazing. We also bought a cat, Chisa. The two were best friends. My mum and dad watched Libra when I worked shifts. She was almost as much their dog as she was mine.

I had little Benji when I first moved to Brantford. Another spitfire. He had the best howl and frequently let his opinion be known.

 

My husband was a cat person. One afternoon, my son, then three, was getting his bike out of the shed and saw what he thought was a baby racoon. He called for his dad. The baby animal was actually a kitten. She and her four brothers were born at the side of our shed. Mama had made a nest in a bucket that had been turned sideways for storage. We never did find any trace of Mama cat so figure she must have been victim to cars. We took the five kittens in and fed them through eyedroppers. 

We ended up keeping three of them. The two boys were really bonded. 

Sadly, we lost the biggest when he was 10. I missed him. He not only thought his brother was an extension of him, but he also thought that I was his Mama cat. Probably because he knew I fed him. 

We lost Spice girl when she was 16. She went down hill quickly. And then we had to send Baby over the rainbow bridge when he was 18. He was a needy old man by then but full of personality. We had our two golden retrievers and he quickly realized that they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, so decided to join them. I often said that he saw himself as a miniature Golden. Although he tended to get into far more antics than they did. It has been two years since he left us and I still miss him. He was cuddly, pliable, and took no nonsense from the dogs. He, too, had a personality that was bigger than him.

 

Digging in the trash can

Our two beautiful Golden Girls are such a joy to us.

Branch Manager and Assistant Branch Manager

Although they are creeping up in age, they still run and swim like young dogs. It is so much fun to see how much joy they get out of life and that brings us joy.

Family History Month - Gleaning Stories from Documents

For many of our ancestors, we need to glean the documents in order to recreate their life story. Our curiosity is usually piqued by a single entry on a document and from there we are off on a research tangent. One case for me, occurred when I was looking at the death register for my paternal great grandfather, Walter Haddow. The informant on his death register says “James Sneddon, son in law”

From this, I knew that one of my paternal grandmother’s sisters had married James. I plugged the information into ScotlandsPeople and came up with a marriage for Walter’s daughter Jessie and groom James Sneddon. They married in 1908. Jessie was a postal clerkess and James a shale miner. 

I then looked for them in the 1911 census and, in looking at the “fertility” column discovered that they had had three children born to them but only one living child, son George. 

That sent me looking for the deaths of two young Sneddon children in MidCalder. I discovered that the two children were, in fact, twins. Agnes Miller (named for James’ mother) and Walter Haddow (named for Jessie’s father) were born in 1910 and died just two hours later. This must have been a devastating blow to the couple. Indeed, to the entire extended family. Shortly after this, James was able to secure a job as a insurance agent and the family moved to Edinburgh. 

Further research shows that Jessie and James had an additional six children, for a total of 9. Sadly, they also lost 3 in infancy – Robert as a newborn, then Jean and Mary each at the age of one. More than half of the children born to the couple succumbed in infancy. I can’t imagine the heartache and loss. 

George, their first born, lived to the ripe old age of 73, Walter to the age of 62, Robert to the age of 73 and Agnes to the age of 79.

Similarly, I have posted two stories this week about using documents, including army records and newspapers to uncover stories from the history of the city I live in. One post looked into the rumour of a suicide at the Brantford Club and the other teased out “more of the story” of a Fegan Boy.

As genealogists, we all chase the stories. As family historians, we research the stories in depth, capture them and then need to preserve them so that future generations may also know them.

How are you capturing, documenting and preserving the stories in your family’s history?

Family Stories Month - Traditions

 Traditions bond us as a family. They provide opportunities for shared memories. Knowing that they will repeat year after year, gives a sense of rhythm to family life but also nurtures stability and strengthens our roots and our connections to one another. 

Apart from the big extended family get togethers for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and birthdays, we also had traditions for Victoria Day, Halloween and Hogmanay. 

Halloween

My mum’s older sister lived one block away from us. Her children, my brother and I would go out on Halloween together. It depended on our ages, of course, whether it was two of us, three of us or all four of us. My mum’s younger sister lived 20 minutes away – in the country. She would bring her children into the city to go trick or treating with their cousins. 

That was our tradition for many years until someone had the bright idea of putting razor blades or straight pins in kid’s chocolate bars. This happened about three years in a row and while most of us were now “too old” to go house to house, the younger ones weren’t and we still enjoyed getting together. So, my aunt (in the country) decided to start having Halloween parties. We would dress up and go to her place. She would have various games for us to play. These were always so much fun and I love looking back on the pictures from those parties.

For the Victoria Day, that same aunt also held a get together where we would all gather at her place and watch fireworks, drink hot chocolate and enjoy the holiday. Kids were a huge part of the event and there were always extras to be had. 

Perhaps my favourite memory of Victoria Day was the year my young cousin was over from Scotland. It was a chilly evening and so she and my mum sat indoors, in front of the big picture window, watching the fireworks. Mel asked my mum “aunty Dot, why are there fireworks?” Mum answered, “Because it’s the Queen’s birthday” Mel thought for a second, looked around, then looked back at my mum and asked “What’s she no here fer then?”

 

Hogmanay was always spent at our house. My parents held a big Hogmanay party every year, with friends, family and neighbours all invited. Mum spent the day making sausage rolls, tattie scones and shortbread. My aunt made dumplin and my uncle made tablet. People started arriving about 8:30 and the place was packed with merrymakers waiting to welcome in the new year. At midnight, there was the traditional Auld Lang Syne followed by our neighbour being ushered out the back door so he could come in the front door as our “first footer” Once the business was out of the way, the food was consumed. The party went on until well into the new day. And then the extended family would gather for a big New Year’s Day dinner at one of the aunts  homes.

 

One of my favourite traditions at any family get-together was taking photos. And in particular, taking photos on Christmas Day when everyone was dressed up.