23. Family History?

It took me a couple months to get over the homecoming funk. I didn't want to write a downer of a post, so I waited to report my whereabouts. A lot of big decisions have been made and, since my brain isn't bogged down and preoccupied with school work, I've had the opportunity to wrap my head around some new ideas. - First thing's first!

I got off the plane in New York and took a cab all the way through the city the night I returned home. When I was younger, like 10 years ago, my family would vacation to New York City. When we were on the way to the airport to go back to Indianapolis, I would get all quietly sad because I felt like I was leaving my home - where I was meant to be. I found a journal of mine a couple years ago from when I was 16 or 17 and the whole thing was filled with my countdown to the big move to New York and how great it would be to get out of Indiana and high school and so on. When I read that, I felt like my little teenage self would be proud of the six years I spent in New York.

That said, after I came home from Dublin, I didn't have the "at-home," belonging feeling I had enjoyed for so many years. I thought it was because I just didn't have anything going for me yet, like a job and apartment. Instead, after a a few months at home, I felt like it was time to move on. You won't believe it, but I moved back to Dublin! December 30th marked my exit, just in time to start a fresh new year in Dublin.

You may be wondering about the title of this post, but it all connects, I promise. So, here's what I was thinking. I was thinking a lot about my lack of identity when it comes to my ancestors and some sort of "homeland." Obviously, I know I'm American, but a lot of people ask, where your family is originally "from." I realized after living in Europe, that non-Americans might find this annoying, like, you're not really Irish or Italian or whatever. You're just American. I think people from the U.S. like to identify themselves and their families with some kind of ancestral homeland to feel more connected and to have a stronger sense of themselves. That might be obvious, but anyway! Over the last year, I've observed a lot of proud Irishmen and Irishwomen in their native habitat and I had some envious feelings about claiming some kind of geographic location as my home and my "people!" and all. I think I wrote about these feelings in the 50/50 post.

Then, I had a revelation! From what I know about my family history, which is not very much because there isn't one big major nationality, but a little of this a little of that going on on both sides, they were all city-dwellers. For the first time, I found a reason to identify with my ancestors! After visiting so many large, cool cities in Europe, and making the decision to relocate, I feel like I actually have something in common with my blood line, maybe even more so than sticking to one place and getting coupled off with someone from that same place. What I mean is, I found that I could identify with the lack of a geographic "homeland." It was all mixed up. I couldn't believe I had never thought of it like that before. I picture my ancestors as fearless adventurers, ready to pick up and meet new people and explore and try something new.  This description might be a bit of a stretch, but, in a way, my mysterious and transient family history became a comforting and relatable explanation of my curiosity and, struggle is too strong a word, but something like that, with finding, feeling, and identifying my home.

I don't have a lot of old family pictures, but here's one of my mom's dad that I think is pretty cool. His hair looks like a rockabilly pompadour, but this picture is actually way before the 1950's. Just check out the button boots. I wish I had one of my dad's mom on my computer. She was quite the stylish lady - a role model of mine for sure. Anyway, I think this picture was taken some time between 1915 and 1920, but I'll have to double check.