Football do's are notoriously tedious, bad food, awful music and small talk with strangers. Last night proved the exception with an indepth discussion about families and ancestors.
My own family has been traced back to 1497, but the period that has always interested me most was the Cornish mining migration in the middles 1800's. As tin mining waned in Cornwall there was a mass exodus to find work and among our group last night we found that each of us had ancestors that had supplied Austrailia, South Africa and America with new citizens.
Four brothers from my own lot emigrated to Ballarat, Austrailia and the other four went to Ishpeming, Michigan, in the US, branching out to Dakota and beyond. Their mother, Martha was left at home in Greensplat with four girls who eventually joined their brothers.
I have a photograph of Martha at the time of her husband Thomas' death, unfortunately I can't seem to scan the photo and blog it otherwise you could see the pain that is etched on her face.
I wrote about it instead:
The veil holds the years
forever locked in sepia
where my weeping heart cannot speak
of new mines in pristine lands
or the song of gold in the black hills
Twelve children borne
now scattered to the winds of change
I am orphaned
lured by the shiny dollar from our dying earth
they lined their nests
at the end of the Hudson
Until I fade
the rustle of my tidy taffeta
remembering the day
that loneliness was mine
silence will follow down the years
whilst the bones hold the pose of his death.