Finding my family in retirement 

When I retired from my faculty role at the University of Calgary after more than 35 years, I found myself with free time. I’d spent my academic career surrounded by students, committees, research and grant submission deadlines, and I wondered what would fill my days now that my calendar had opened up. The answer turned out to be genealogy, the chance to discover where my family came from and to learn the stories behind the names in my family tree. 

I had no idea where to start. So, I did what I would have told any student to do: begin with what you know. I sat down and wrote out everything I could remember about myself, my parents, my grandparents and even my great-grandparents. Names, dates, places, the bits and pieces of family history that I had heard over the years. Most of it was incomplete, such as my paternal grandmother having a half sibling — male or female, I had no idea, but it gave me a starting point. 

Some people begin by talking with older relatives, who often remember names, places and small details you’ll never find in any official records. I didn’t have that option. The older generation of my family is gone, and with them went many of the stories that might have informed me. I immigrated to Canada at a young age and had no strong family ties with those still residing in my country of origin. So, I turned to what they left behind: old photographs (sometimes with only a name or year on the back), two family Bibles, immigration papers and my parents’ old passports. Each item became a piece of my puzzle, and I have loved doing puzzles all my life. 

I found my way to websites like ancestry.ca, with its millions of records: census returns, birth and marriage registrations, immigration documents, old newspapers and more. It was overwhelming at first; I quickly recognized that my background was British, and this influenced my search for records.  I joined the International Society for British Genealogy and Family History (interestingly located in the U.S.), which, for a small membership fee, gave me access to the webinars that they host.  

This year, my daughter gave me a personal session with a professional genealogist for my birthday. She has now joined the search with me. We initiated a regular date and time, and we connect over Zoom since she does not live in Canada. We set ourselves an initial modest goal: that of finding the parents of each of my parents, and then their parents. When we managed that, we started looking for their siblings: the aunts and uncles of their generation. 

My years at the University of Calgary served me well in one respect: I knew to check my sources. It was tempting to accept what I saw in someone else’s online tree, but I knew a matching name doesn’t mean a matching person. I learned to look for an original record, or at least a second reliable source, before adding anyone to my tree. I learned not to rush. Genealogy is detective work. I’ve found several different birth dates for the same ancestor — at least it currently seems to be the same person, but more work needs to be done in this regard. I have also seen our surname(s) spelled in diverse ways.  

Somewhere along the way, I realized we were not just collecting names and dates. I was getting to know real people: where they were born, where they worked, whom they married, and sometimes the challenges they faced, such as working in the coalmines of Yorkshire, England. I was also learning about myself. I found out that my maternal grandmother’s family left Ireland for England. I’d never heard a word about this move. I wondered what led them to leave home, what it was like to arrive in a new country, and how faith might have influenced their decision to leave. Records can tell you where someone went and when; they can’t always tell you why. But knowing even this much has made her feel far more real to me than the two occasions on which I remember meeting her. 

Finding my family has started. I have idea of where this search will take me as I move forward. It is exciting.