Who We Are

My son Samuel has developed an interest in finding out who he is. He wants to visit a Geneology centre to find out more about his heritage on both sides of his family. On his father's side, there is some Indian blood (Blind River)and on my side, there is Scottish blood and English blood. We know, thanks to the efforts of my cousin Brian, much about the "Forster's" in England (my Grandmother's family name) who were once royalty but had their land taken from them. We know about Bamburgh Castle in Northhumberland that is our family castle. There are obvious connections with the Forsters of past. There is a portrait of Lady Forster that hangs in the castle and I look very much like her. Amazing.

The Scottish link in my past is one that has taunted me for years. Since I am aware of the physical traits,and the artistic traits I inherited from my father, I am curious about my paternal grandmother whom I never knew. Did she have my curly hair? Was she petite and feisty? Did she have the freckles that Sam and I share? Did she have any lung problems? Was she musical? Could she draw or paint? Did she like to write letters? These are the questions I would so love to have answered one day.

I have never been to Scotland. All I know is that my Grandmother's name was Christine Isobel Campbell and she was born in Hamilton, Scotland. My father was illegitimate and as was often done back then, his grandparents raised him as their own and Christine presumably, went back to Scotland. He only discovered the truth when he signed up for the army and needed his birth certificate. It was a major shock to him.

I share Sam's longing to find out about who I am. I recall a vacation with Mom and Dad where we went to Cape Breton Island and drove the Cabot Trail. The Scottish heritage is alive and well in Cape Breton and I remember a distinct feeling of not wanting to leave. It very much felt like 'home' or perhaps, it was a place that was closer to my blood ties physically. I remember the peace I felt seeing the humble homes that seemed so small compared to the physical enormity and beauty of the trail, and the majestic mystery of the wild ocean. I remember delighting in the accent of the locals and comparing that to my English family who all had very distinct accents, some of which, were impossible to understand (Northern family).

I will certainly encourage Sam's interest and I really hope one day to be able to take him to Scotland. Perhaps we will find out some answers about my Grandmother. For years I have silently thought of her and wondered if she knows or knew about me and my brothers. Did shame keep her from seeking us out? I suspect that was the case. It makes me sad to think she was denied her grandchildren because of social stigmas. Perhaps, it was just too painful.

I don't believe my Grandmother is alive anymore. This post is in memory of a Grandmother I never knew, but always believed was a very, very big part of who I am. Wherever she is, she will never be forgotten by me.

Linda Grace