This whole DNA craze has got us speaking Yiddish, eating croissants, and partaking in St. Paddy’s day for the first time ever. Okay, maybe not the first time, but it’s the first time we haven’t just pretended to be Irish. I haven’t even taken the test yet, but because I have two sisters who have , I am the beneficiary of all this history. It’s been inspiring to hear about where our ancestors immigrated from and to also to be a little surprised by the results.
I am an avid reader of historical fiction and often in these books they are piecing together their history in order to understand their present circumstances. It’s always fascinating to read about a character who finds out their grandparents owned a small restaurant and they are currently in culinary school.
We all know families who have three and four generations of star football players, doctors, attorneys or businessmen. Sometimes you hear outsiders say things like, “well, they didn’t have a choice, they were forced into the family business.” That’s well and good if your family belongs to the mafia, but if you suck at football you aren’t going to make it very far and no matter how much your family wants you to be a doctor you still have to be good at math and science.
The reality is that whether you know where your ancestors hail from, certain traits or talents seem to rise to the top of the gene pool and you usually don’t have to look far to find them.
So, without a map of my DNA I started thinking about what (besides my cankles) have been passed on to my kids. What might they be really good at or LOVE that has been quietly passed on through the generations. The first thing that comes to mind is baking. Our mother owned a bakery for years and while none of us took over the family business, the baking continues. My girls grew up baking, rolling out bread dough and making birthday cakes. My middle one has grown to love making cakes and cupcakes for every occasion and she is a natural, just like her grandmother. Who knows, there may even be a bakery in her future.
There is also a love for music. Music has always been a part of my oldest two girl’s lives from piano to violin to voice. They have each done it in their own way, but so did those before them. I have aunts and uncles who had a passion for music and even their great-grandfather was a musician. I was beginning to think that the music gene had skipped my youngest daughter, but alas she LOVES music. She listens to it ALL OF THE TIME. She just doesn’t want to perform. I get it. She is tone deaf so it probably wouldn’t go over well anyway.
So, here’s the interesting part. This is the part that would be in the climax of the historical fiction book that would tie my daughter to her grandmother not because it’s amazing, but because it’s just… interesting. My oldest listened to all genres of music, but performed mostly in the church (like her great-grandparents), my middle listened to jazz and loves to perform for anyone who will listen to her (no idea where she came from) and my youngest OUT OF THE BLUE says to me last week, “I just love Paul Anka!”
Cue the twilight zone music.
What? She is 15 years old. How does she even know who Paul Anka is and where did she hear his music? I can assure you, the name Paul Anka has never been uttered in our home. Apparently, she just happened to stumble upon his music while clicking through some playlists on Apple Music and “she just fell in love with his voice”
What she doesn’t know at this point is that her grandmother LOVES Paul Anka and we listened to his albums A LOT growing up. I can still see those album covers sitting in the old console now.
We have been listening to Paul Anka along with some other oldies for days now. I finally told her that grammie LOVES Paul Anka and she should text her. Upon discussing their obsession with Paul Anka she discovered that her grandmother not only “loves” Paul Anka, but was kissed by him! This scandalous information led her to ask the obvious question, “is there any chance that my mom is Paul Anka’s love child?” She denies it, but I do think it’s odd that everyone got 23 and me for Christmas EXCEPT ME.
I am not saying I am Paul Anka’s love child, I am just saying it’s possible AND I think it’s strange that her favorite song is, “You’re Having My Baby.”
As I said before, this whole DNA thing is inspiring, but I don’t think I want to take a test anymore. I kind of like the intrigue.
Sunshine & Sarcasm,
Lowi & G