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Thanks for joining me! Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

From the age of 6, I can remember asking my mother ad nauseam where we came from.  I was asking not in the existential sense, of course, but our roots, our ancestors’ “stomping grounds”  (a term my maternal grandfather often used). Most days I was met with, “go outside and play”, and all days with…

I thought I might pause the story for a moment to fast forward my audience in time.  Many of you have asked about the blog title and the meaning behind it.  Some have even suggested I might have spelled “birds” wrong. Bless it. I also realize the term is “bats in my belfry”. I promise…

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first”, the woman on the other end of the line hesitantly asked me. Her name was Terri, and I think she was just as nervous as we were.  My mother, who was sitting next to me listening, nodded to me like I knew the answer.…

While my mother and I nervously awaited a response from my grandfather, I tried to fill the gaps with researching what we knew about my deceased grandmother. When I sat down to type in her name and residence, I honestly had no expectations. I wasn’t trying to be cynical, but as you can imagine, I…

Before I introduce you to my mother’s maternal biological family, you might be wondering about how her adopted family is taking all of this news so far. My adopted grandparents, Bill and Mildred, were both deceased by the time our journey began, in 2001. I knew we would have had their blessing; we wouldn’t even have…

The hour trip to Elmira, New York is one my mom has literally taken thousands of times before. I can just imagine her as a child, chomping on gum, watching the many farms pass by, playing “punch bug” with my grandmother until my grandma’s arm was sore –or until she redirected my mom,  “oh look,…

The weeks following the letter to my biological grandfather were spent cornered in my own mind. I was not only going over every possible scenario as to how the letter might be received but also, how we might sidestep awkwardness based on what Aunt Doll had shared with us.  What do we say to a…

Me researching family in Roanoke, VA.   Bridging the Ancestral paper trail forward to the year 2012, all efforts were exhausted on mom and Susan’s biological father, Bill.  Camm was his surname and Susan and I tossed that name backwards, forwards, and inside out.  We collected death records, birth records, and land deeds. We took…

Byrd’s in my family tree. The Universe grins sardonically at me, pleased with its simple play on words. I eagerly contact Susan to play what we like to call “Go Fish” with our DNA matches. We converse at great length over the familial possibilities. However, it always came back to Mom and Susan’s father, Bill.…

There is something deeply, intricately burled about the research I have done on my family tree these past few years. A living map, eons of generational resilience written in the knots of my DNA. But tracing those patterns often leaves me with more questions, and of course, usually right when there are much larger things…