|"Monster" Chittick's on the left|
I got into family history about six months ago, not long after I heard an awesome talk on the subject. I thought it would be a nice thing to fill my Sunday afternoons, since Honey Bear has a bunch of meetings and my kids are super-sleepers. I never realized it would turn into such a quest--or bring so many little miracles into my life.
I e-mailed my only living grandparent, my father’s mother, and asked her a few basic questions about her parents and grandparents. The e-mail I got back was long and detailed, complete with attached pictures that she’d scanned herself. (My grandma’s eighty-five, by the way. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?) I couldn’t believe the wealth of information I’d discovered. But mostly, I couldn’t believe it’d taken me so long to ask.
Almost right away, one of the names stood out to me. It was my grandma’s grandpa’s name, my great-great-grandfather’s, Monster Chittick, who'd immigrated to the
Then I noticed that his birthday was January 11, 1863.
I felt like someone had plugged my finger into an electrical outlet. Because I have my kids by C-section, I already had a pretty good idea of when our Monster would be born. And according to my calculations, we were going to do the C-section on January 11, 2012, Monster Chittick’s one hundred and forty-ninth birthday.
I suggested the name to Honey Bear in combination with his grandpa’s middle name, since his grandpa’s birthday is January 9. He was a little resistant to the idea at first, mostly because he hadn’t come up with it himself (and I’d come up with all our kids’ names), but after a while, he caught the vision of the thing. And now we have our little Monster, who shares a birthday and a name with his great-great-great-grandfather.
That’s the beauty of family history. It brings the generations of a family together.