I became my family’s historian in the early 2000s while sitting with my aunt and the family portraits, listening to her stories of the people in them. They were her legacy to me.
The Posluszny Family abt. 1908
For the past 25 years, I’ve collected information, discovered new family members and brought my ancestors to life. I discovered facts that may never have been uncovered without DNA and research.
I created a blog and have written about their lives, loves and losses, accomplishments and failures for ten years.
One hundred and thirty posts on people, places, occupations, and stories collected from when they were alive to share them with me.
This will be my legacy, sharing the voices of the past with future generations.
If you saw my story from yesterday (probably not, I can’t seem to get any traction here LOL), I talked about whether I should go to an event with a medium last night because I was recovering from bronchitis and have this icky cough. My husband said “No”, but my Tea Party chairperson, a former infectious disease person, said, “go, you’re not contagious”, so off I went loaded with cough drops and water.
The woman is pretty popular here in New England and aside from John Edwards in the mid-90s in a ballroom space in Providence, Rhode Island, I’d never been to a group type medium event like this. This one had about 40 people. I went with an open mind, more for the experience because I have my own one on one medium connection. I took a seat that had a good view of the whole room so I wouldn’t have to turn around at all.
She explained her process and away she went. She immediately headed in my direction but stopped next to me where two sisters were sitting and she went on for a while, never moving in my direction.
After moving to a side table, she focused on the table in front of me with 10 people who had come together in small groups, and that went on for awhile.
I recognized some things she threw out, but other people were so quick to jump on them that I really didn’t feel like being that person to continually raise my hand. Just here for the experience remember?
And then I received the message that was for me and me alone. She was in the front of the room and she said, “Rocky”.
I raised my hand and said, “That’s my husband’s nickname.” She looked at me as asked “are you writing a book? I’m being shown you as a writer.” I responded, “I write stories about my ancestors and family.” She moved on from that but it was all I needed. Who was it? I don’t know, but the validation that they know I’m writing to share their stories was enough for me.
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 