My Golden Birthday – A chance to find family roots

April 25, 2012:

My GOLDEN birthday. In case you have never heard of this obscure term it means that the age you are turning is the same as the day of the month (i.e. if your birthday is June 9 then your GOLDEN birthday is when you turn 9).  Forreasons I don’t completely understand, this type of birthday has always been joyously celebrated in my family.

What is the purpose of a birthday? The idea put forth by one of my favorite teachers, Dr. Jonathan Ellerby, is that a birthday is a time to celebrate the true essence of a person—what makes him or her a unique individual. When I was a child I wanted nothing more than a Batman- or Spiderman-themed party where I could play with my friends and eat grotesque amounts of sweet treats. What could be better? As I grew into my teens I wanted to party, but my “fun” would often result in a lower level of consciousness that required friends to inform me of the previous night’s events. But this year I wanted to celebrate the people in my life, who and where I come from, and gain a deeper understanding of my origins.

On April 24, 2012 I returned to England from Spain to meet my Dad and Reid. After landing in London Heathrow airport, I took the train to meet them in Northallerton, the small English village where my grandma (Nanny) was raised. She moved to Canada with my grandpa (Papa) after he finished his service as an aeronautical mechanic in WWII. This is the moment when she gained the title of “British War Bride.” Nanny’s maiden name of Nelson and her mother’s maiden name of Finkill are well known Northallerton bloodlinesand the many living decedents of these families were there in droves to welcome us home. Meeting a distant cousin who bears a chilling resemblance to your grandma really shrinks the world.

We ate a proper English breakfast before Kath (my dad’s cousin) arrived to guide us on a day-tour down history lane. Nanny’s stories of Northallerton over the years always motivated me to explore my roots.

The first stop was a parking lot. Really, this is it? Yup. Sadly, they paved a car park (or parking lot—one of many language differences I encountered) of a home garden box store over the site of the Nelson pub. The pub was on the ground level and on the second floor was the home where Nanny lived during a large portion of her childhood. When the homogenous conglomerates destroy a part of your own history, it requires a moment of reflection as to the current state of this planet. Am I part of the problem or the solution?

We visited the home of another cousin, Jeff, whose ironic sense of humor entertained us while his nurturing wife catered to us with tea and scones. We were treated to memories saved in photos—much more authentic slivers of time past than digital versions. Our relatives told stories of the troubled union of the first Nelsons and Finkels due to professional differences. The Nelsons were hoteliers and the Finkels dated their dairy farming practice back to the mid-17th century. The Finkels did not take kindly to the idea of being linked to the town’s alcohol suppliers.

Later on we took off in the pouring rain to visit the graves of our ancestors. Theoretically, it is easy to understand that we are all part of a large puzzle, pieces looking to fit in their proper places, but when I looked at the graves of my great-great- grandparents and contemplated how every decision they made in their lives resulted in my visiting their remains at that moment, something mystical seemed to manifest. It was as if our souls momentarily connected, reminding me to enjoy this temporary moment and the blessing of life that passes us by in a flash, like a dream that is over before you recognize the play of the unconscious mind.

That night all of the relatives gathered in the bar of our hotel, which was built on land owned by my great-great-grandfather. Our conversations were lively; we were all genuinely excited to get to know each other more. I could ask for no better gift than spending my 25th birthday with Tom and Reid, connecting with distant relatives in my Nanny’s hometown.