Exploring the Family Tree


(Mrs. Herschwitzky is a wife and mother who writes from Maryland. This article is reprinted with permission from Canticle Magazine, the Voice of Today's Catholic Woman.)


“Hello, to whom am I speaking? …Jack …please spell your last name. F-a-h-e-y?”

Oh. Wow! The serene face of my saintly great-grandmother, Mary Fahey, floated across my suddenly calmed consciousness.

“Ah, we might be related,” I countered very cheerfully. (This was different. This was family.) Families squabble over the teeniest details. No big deal. We could work out this mindless misunderstanding.

We chatted. We laughed. We spoke about the Fahey’s, related or not. Jack would take care of everything. He understood my frustration. I apologized for my…Irish…temper. Ha ha. He understood even that. Yes. After all, it’s a family thing.

Lightheartedly I closed the conversation thinking there was a blessing or two in the study of genealogy. All those countless hours spent researching the various branches and twigs of even one of four immediate trees did spiritually pay off numerous times. However, there are some cautions, because such digging can go in the other “you know where” direction as well.

One benefit is the sense that we are all family, one way or another. Yes, I know, as heirs to the Kingdom of God, shouldn’t we exclusively dwell on that reality? Well, most of us hope we are mentioned in God’s final Will, and it’s also true that we should respect all our neighbors, foe and friend, with an equally high degree of genuine charity. Nonetheless, it helps to develop physical ties. Like the visible ties of our faith, these reinforce the invisible truth.

Since researching my grandmother, a pioneer Chicago policewoman, I’ve learned that I have family in many states, perhaps all of them, as well as overseas. Family trees sent to me by inquisitive relatives impart a very rich orchard that spans different cultures and generations as well. And that is only the maternal side of my mother’s history, largely Irish. Who knows what — or whom — I might find along the other three lines?

What fun to discover relatives in Texas by a fluke inquiry. Passing through some years ago, my family had the golden opportunity to meet a distant cousin traced only through a letter her grandfather wrote to my grandmother in the 1920’s. And perhaps, it’s just my imagination, but pictures reveal a physical resemblance. This cousin is quite lovely (aahhh…that’s one of the drawbacks — becoming too enmeshed in your wonderful family). Also what a further surprise to learn that her sister lived only a short car ride from my Mom, brother, and sister in California. It’s a small world after all!

Later I corresponded with two other cousins — one in Iowa and one in Chicago. Dozens are bulk postage rate away. I feel like running for president or something. At least I’d have a voter foundation, I think. (Warning: there’s another drawback — becoming just a wee bit self-centered in the universe.) Moreover, as my Mom so humbly reminds me, there were likely a few cow rustlers, or the like, along the lines. Supposedly one past relative shot himself in the foot to avoid serving in the Civil War. There goes my standing in the DAR.

Still, it is more difficult to be angered with those round me, because I never know if it is a great aunt’s grandchild with whom I’m dealing. Last names are no hints either. Look at mine — who would believe I’m half Irish? Nonetheless, I boast of my heritage (another fault line) to anyone with a typical Irish surname. So, if I were to lose control around a stranger, given my Irish luck, it would be someone from the family branch that saved my twig decades ago.

Furthermore, as a second blessing of genealogy research, I don’t need to meet or communicate with relatives in order to recognize their presence and to love them on a very personal level. For instance, according to family history, when two of the Egan brothers left Ireland in the mid-1800s, one to America and one to Australia, two remained. Family tells me that the family farm still exists in County Clare. That small hook has opened big doors in my heart for all the Irish.

Current events in that small beleaguered country have elicited many of my prayers. I truly hope that the Northern Irish embrace their faith and seek comfort from the Prince of Peace instead of satisfaction from the Protestants. How tempting it was to hop a plane and coordinate a massive Rosary Rally, amplified on the day of that Orange Order march, along with huge banners underscoring, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

The third blessing of genealogical research is the enrichment of my prayers to the saints in Heaven and the souls in Purgatory, realizing that I have identifiable family in one or both of these two places. C’mon, at least a few must have made it! Certainly they did. Well, it’s a reasonable guess given the traditions and stories passed on by previous generations.

However there are some cautions when researching family, about which I’ve hinted. Saint Matthew clearly established Jesus’ lineage, because it reinforced what had been prophesied about the Messiah. We have to be very careful not to confuse our mission of discovery with establishing some superior royalty. For instance, family oral tradition and two written records establish the great Irish Liberator, Daniel O’Connell, as a relative. This led to lively and spiritually uplifting correspondence with one of his direct descendants, Maurice O’Connell, professor emeritus, in Dublin, Ireland.

However, after mentioning my relation with Daniel O’Connell (and John L. Sullivan) on, oh, about twenty-five Saint Patrick’s Days, mostly to fellow Irish, who also boasted their relations to the very same notable figures, I forced myself away from the temptation. While one can legitimately admire Daniel O’Connell’s wonderful cleverness in uniting the Irish and elevating their morale, along with his eventual reconversion and devotion to the faith, any concentrated attachment to a human, deceased or not, can be deadly to one’s spiritual life. In a sense, as mentioned above, we are all related, especially through Baptism. It is the Holy Family with whom we should align ourselves. Now that’s royalty.

Also, the time itself, spent in establishing certain relatives, can be too distracting for a well-rounded spiritual life. Exploring the past to assist one’s journey towards Heaven, in some way, is quite acceptable. However, when too obsessed, we can forget the present. How fascinating to read details about your family’s life in past centuries; how futile if your own child lies in pain from today’s deadly flu as your mind flies to the family farm of yesteryear.

Sometimes, when I was most engaged in my research, ideas about how to learn more popped into my head while in Mass or otherwise praying. How many times did I apologize to the Lord for this rotten vanity. How often did I have to remind myself that my Heavenly Father directs me to explore Him, not dead limbs, even formerly great ones.

Overall, things and persons of this world can supplant Heaven if some caution is not exercised. Now, I don’t mean to diminish the novelty and thrill one may receive in the process of discovering golden apples in a family tree. But remember, only God can make a tree, including family ones. Most importantly, in the end, we must firmly root ourselves in Heaven.

However, that aside, do explore your family history. You will discover many great souls to imitate, multitudes to pray for, and most importantly, many to pray for you. Indeed, instead of family trees, you may consider forming spiritual bouquets. Imagine presenting ourselves in colorful, fragrant branches. One day, in the sight of the One True Glory, we will be one, big, happy family arrayed greater than the flowers in the field.

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