This is not really what I had originally planned to post tonite, but then I started thinking about it all through out today.
I was thinking about my family name today, especially when I hear the name “Grandma Burwash”, because it always brings to my mind MY Grandma, not my Mother.
You see, My Grandma, had 2 kids, my Dad and my Aunt. My Aunt got married and hyphenated her name, but her children have their Father’s name. My Dad had me, an only child (ok, I really guess I broke the mold and swore him off of having any more kids…hehehe).
I got married and changed my name. So, that leads me to thinking. Although my children, are 1/2 Burwash’s, they have their Father’s last name. So, I guess that means I am correct that my family name ended with me, in this line of our family.
This makes me sad, I’m not sure why, and I can’t really explain it. We have a family member that is in “charge” of our family “tree”, I guess every family has one of those, my husband’s family has one and has extracted all kinds of information from me, so our lines will be crossed.
I guess, as I have been getting older, certain things have become more aware to me. My question is this, When my descendants are around long after I am gone, will they know my family and all of its rich colorful history? Of the Farming, and hardships my Great-Great-Grandparents, Great-Grandparents and Grandparents have known?
Will they know that the Saturn Car Dealership in Champaign Illinois was once my Uncle Art’s Farm, That I remember the Farmhouse and the Tree outside that I climbed as a child, or the fact that Uncle Art only had a thumb on his hand because his other fingers were taken off in a corn picker? That the tapes the Farmer has of my Grandma and her brother Uncle Art talking about when they were kids, walking in the snow to school, and all of their escapades.
Maybe…as we get older….we appreciate what our family has gone through before us. I know I sure do. I miss my Grandma, I miss her telling me always it would be a brighter day tomorrow, and eating a dinner of popcorn on Sunday nights, cuz well that’s just what we did.
I guess I am just feeling a little sad, because folks, I am the last of my line as the name carrier. I am proud to carry my name, and if I could figure out how to carry my name with my husband’s name and not spending a million dollars to do it I would.
But…let me say this….I was born a Burwash, I am a Burwash and I will carry that name throughout my entire life and be proud.