My heritage

I will go home to my father... 

Luke 15:18 NLT

For years, I have written about my trips around the world, from Australia to India to South Africa to Peru to Iceland.  I've been blessed to visit approximately 30 countries on 6 continents, and I have more to see.  However, before I ever visited those countries, I visited "the country".  My first trips were not to a glamorous, magazine-worthy destination.  My early travel consisted of road trips to see my father's family in the woods of northern Louisiana.  

Today, I traveled down a road that took me back to the beginning.  Not just my beginning, but the beginning of my father's family (that we can trace).  

How did I get back to the beginning?  We held our family reunion this weekend where I met and reconnected with my family.  We talked about how we were related and I heard new names and new stories.  I had the privilege of serving on the planning committee, and we worked hard to make it a fun event for the young and old.  We welcomed everyone on Friday night with fun and games.  The weekend continued with a picnic and talent show on Saturday.  The final event was worship service today at the family church where my grandfather and other elders served over the years.  My family members were acknowledged not just during the service, but my ancestors were also silently honored on the pews where we sat.  The pastor spoke from Luke 15:17-18 with a message about the wasteful son who returned home.  Our family came home this weekend.  

 

My favorite part of this weekend happened after church when all of the official reunion events were over and everyone had said goodbye.  My dad told me he was going to the cemetery down the road to visit his parents' grave, and I hopped in the car with him.  That old cemetery contains the graves of not just my grandparents.  It is also the resting place of many other relatives, including cousins, aunts, uncles, great-grandparents, and more.  As we walked, my dad told me about some of the names he recognized, and I shared what I knew based on my research of the family tree.  The people buried in that cemetery lived. They loved.  They lost.  They learned.  They laid the foundations for family, community, homes, and churches with their labor, their prayers, and their capital.  

After we left the cemetery, we drove down the unpaved road to my family's property.  There were no signs or established markers, but my dad knew the way instinctively.  He told me he used to run through those woods barefooted as a kid.  He pointed out different places along the way where landmarks used to be.  I vaguely remembered the road from when I visited my grandparents as a kid.  It's probably been about 20 years since I've been on our land.  When we arrived at the end of the road, I was both amazed and aggrieved.  As we drove through the rough terrain I thought about all the memories that were made there.  Those hills watched our family grow for many generations, and now they were empty.  All of the previous occupants had either died or moved to the big city.  I was sad when we arrived at the end of our road today, because a new road was there cutting through our property.  Where my grandparents' home previously stood is now Interstate 49.  I already knew the highway was there, but it felt heavy seeing it up close.  If it's hard for me, I can't imagine how difficult it must be for my father. 

 

The house stood at the top of this hill before it was demolished for I49.

There's something about going back and looking at the past that recharges the future.  It's like my ancestors are shouting words of encouragement.  They are reminding me to honor the past by continuing their legacy.  They are encouraging me to remind the family of who we are and where we've been.  I am also encouraged to live my life fully in the present in order to continue building on the foundation laid for me.

I honor Sam, Gail, Ethel, Joe, Lily, Eliza, Jerelyn, Dock, Mattie, Granville, Earl, James, Eula, Mae, Mildred, Elijah, Easter, Adeline, John, Joe, Willie Mae, and so many others.  These are my people. I'm standing on their shoulders.  I carry them with me when I walk on distant lands.  They are with me when I cross oceans.  I am here because of the sacrifices that they made.  This is my heritage.

Lights, camera, action?

I added the Northern/Southern Lights to my travel bucket list about 2-3 years ago. The Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) can be seen in Norway, Greenland, Iceland, Swedish and Finnish Lapland, Scotland, Siberia, Canada and Alaska. The Southern Lights (Aurora Australis) are seen in Antarctica, Chile, Argentina, South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. I didn't care about the location, as long as I could witness the naturally occurring phenomenon. In fact, I named my latest car, Aurora, because that's her Roman name and because I aspired to see the Aurora. I started scoping out my options, and found that there were more opportunities in the northern hemisphere versus the southern hemisphere, and they are most visible from late September to early spring. I wanted to plan a trip around my birthday in January, and I looked into various packages. Then, an angel, called Groupon, sent me an alert about a package to Iceland that included hotel, airfare, and the Northern Lights. Bonus: The trip would begin the day after my birthday. Of course, I jumped on that deal. Months later, my friend told me she was interested in going too, so I sent her the Groupon.  The price had increased, but it was still inexpensive.   

The time came for us to leave, and I was so excited. I packed for the cold weather and I researched how to capture the best images of the Aurora. We arrived in Reykjavik early Monday morning, and we were scheduled for the Northern Lights tour that evening at 8:30. The Customs Officer told us that they were at level orange, and expecting a big storm that day. Iceland has 3 weather alert levels - yellow, orange, and red. That wasn't a good sign, but I remained optimistic. After we checked in the hotel, the reception desk told us to check around 4 or 5pm to confirm that the tour was still happening. We did just that. On night 1, the tour was canceled due to the snow storm. Well, that was disappointing! The tour company included a disclaimer with the package, because we were subject to the elements, so we knew that they would reschedule the tour. 

The next day started with hope. Again, there were clouds that prevented us from going. We had 1 more night available before going home. I slept until almost noon. When I finally went downstairs, I saw a sign at the reception desk listing all the tour cancellations. Noooooooo! Not again! The receptionist told me there might be a small chance of seeing the lights at night near the hotel if I walked toward the bay away from the city lights. I went downstairs around 10:30 that night. The receptionist on duty recommended going to the highest floor of the hotel first to catch a glimpse before traipsing outside. I didn't see anything from the hotel, so I walked outside, crossed the street, and arrived at the path around the bay. I saw other people standing there searching for a break in the clouds just like me. I walked back to the hotel disappointed. Another tourist told me that she heard there might be an opportunity early in the morning between 4 and 6 am. I didn't want to leave Iceland without exhausting all possibilities, so I set my alarm for 5:30am. I woke up and dressed for the bitter cold again before walking upstairs. I walked on the outside stairs, and as I approached the 7th floor, my snow boots sank into the fresh snow. That wasn't a good sign. I arrived at the balcony and could barely see the street down below with the wild wind blowing thick white snow all around me.  I retreated downstairs and got back into bed. 

Next time, Aurora, next time...

Looking out over the bay

 

Between 2 Worlds

For the second time in my life, I stood at the intersection of two continents.  The first time was in 2016 when I visited Istanbul, Turkey where Europe and Asia meet.  Most recently though I was on the tectonic plates that divide North America and Europe at Pingvellir in Reykjavik, Iceland.  Iceland is full of natural wonders.  I saw an amazing waterfall, called Gullfoss.  It was such a majestic site covered in ice and snow with a thunderous waterfall roaring through the valley. 

Pingvellir

Pingvellir

Gullfoss

Gullfoss