By Crawling, a Child Learns to Stand. I Never [Really] Knew My Father…

Old Bridge at Pilar

Last week while chatting [via Facebook] with my sister Cookie, something she said pained me — like literally punched me in my chest. Cookie commented that aside from our father, Don and the siblings we know of [long story!], she didn’t know any other DANIELS connected to us.

Good Lord! I’m a genealogist who’s spent a small fortune researching her MATERNAL family some 15 years. I’ve unearthed our GEORGIA lineage to return it to my [clueless, sometimes grateful] family. I’ve connected with our deeply-rooted ALABAMA lines to learn more about my Grandfather, Willie C. BARWICK’s, heritage.

I relocated to my hometown of WILKES County, Georgia just to have easy access to historical records and “Old Sage” community resources.

Hell, knowing who I am and being who I am is so important to me that in 2010 I went through the hassel and legal expense of changing my name to Luckie — the childhood monicker that’s always felt more “comfortable” than Dona Amechia, a name challenging for others to pronounce properly and one that never really belonged to — me.

I HAVE DANIELS KIDS!  Sons, who will produce [hopefully] more sons.

So how can I — of all people — live without knowing who we descend from? Are not my PATERNAL Ancestors equally deserving of my reverence?

First answer — I cannot live with it. Second answer — without question.

This journey is uncharted territory for me. There are no familiar faces here. No Cousin Elbert memories to ground myself with or Grandma Jackson quotes to be inspired by.

There’s an old bible that came to me like a petition for forgiveness — a final acknowledgement of my birthright maybe from Lovella “Chic” COBB DANIELS, my father’s mother? There’s my Father DonAmeche — distant, senior, reflective and yes sadly regretful of all the time and missed opportunities behind him. There are siblings found and those yet to be discovered.

And there are Ancestors, waiting for me to show them the love I’ve extended to my others for well over a decade. Waiting for me to tell there stories too.

By crawling, a child learns to stand. ~ African Proverb

[DEEP breath] Nervous. Open. Hopeful… 1 baby step at a time, I cautiously journey across this bridge.

I never [really] knew my Father or his DANIELS people, but Goddess willing, I’m hoping to change that.

Luckie

{Image: Old Bridge in Pilar, just outside of Taos, New Mexico}

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4 Comments

  1. Denise Muhammad October 8, 2013 at 3:15 pm

    I see that your ancestors are whispering to you as well. Were walking together on this one Luckie! ( I never knew my father) Looking forward to hearing more about your family! :)

    Reply
  2. Yes your paternal side deserve reference!!! I in fact hear my paternal grandmother’s branches whispering the loudest…but I have to keep telling them I will give them honor in time. So I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us, because we are a tribe.

    Reply

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