I have once again been sucked in.
It is an affliction that comes and goes.
With my DNA results expected back soon, it has come again.
With a vengeance.
My desk often is covered with census records, draft registrations and birth certificates.
Like pieces to a puzzle.
A very messy puzzle.
And then days like yesterday occur.
Stories get told.
Dad and I attended a graveside service for my cousin's father.
We then drove to the nearby cemetery where his parents and both sets of grandparents are buried.
As well as several aunts and uncles.
They were part of the movement that came to California in the 1930's to make better lives for their families.
I learned things that I had either never known or had forgotten.
The park where Sunday family picnics were held.
The schools attended.
The lumberyard from which my great grandfather bought supplies with my Dad along for the ride.
It is the stories that intrigue me the most.