Who is this guy named John? (03/27/06)

Do I answer the cryptic note or not? “Diana, please e-mail or call me. Thanks. John.” The e-mail came as feedback from one of my earlier columns. Is this one of the many long-lost cousins I wrote to last week in an attempt to expand the family tree I’ve been working on? His e-mail address suggests that he is. Or is it somebody who is truly tired of hearing about a no-longer-missing doll named Crystal?

Should I pretend I never received the note? Should I call? E-mail is safer and cheaper but really, a phone call would tell me so much more. It’s just that long distance is so expensive. If it turns out to be some wacko nutcase then I have opened myself up to who knows what. We do seem to have several crazy people in our past so this is a real possibility. Maybe he is wondering the same thing about me.

What to do. What to do.

Curiosity will be my downfall. I went home at lunch and sent a brief note to John telling him I would call later this evening. Now I just have to explain to my husband why I am calling a strange man in Ohio. Thank goodness he isn’t the jealous type. It’s one of the things I like best about him.

The only picture I have of anybody named John was taken back in 1963 on the farm where I grew up. It shows my mother, my grandmother, my grandmother’s sister and her son John. He looks like any of the other farm boys of that era, except I think he was a city kid not a farm boy. The problem is that I don’t remember him at all.

My world was falling apart in 1963 so it is no wonder that I don’t recall him or his mother visiting us. Did his father take the picture? Where was I? I don’t know. The people in the picture are silent.

If it is the man I am looking for then I intend to glean as much information as I can from him. I want more than names and dates, although I want those also. I want the family stories. I want to know who people were. What were their passions? What made them happy? What made them sad? How did they spend their time? What were their hopes and dreams?

When I see my great-great grandmother’s death certificate and read that she died of breast cancer I want to know more. What treatments did they have in those days? How was she diagnosed? Who cared for her? How old was she when she found out? How did her husband react? Was he even alive then? I want this woman to be more than just dates on a piece of paper.

I am hoping that John can provide these kinds of details about his own mother and others of our family. Of course, if it turns out that this guy is not a long-lost cousin then I have opened myself up to e-mail from who knows where. That’s what the delete button is for. The problem with that option is that sometimes I accidentally delete something I want because it is buried in spam.

This curiosity about those who lived before me is all new. It would have been so much easier if I had started this project while my grandparents were still alive. My grandfather died when I was in fourth grade and I wasn’t the least bit interested in anybody over the age of 12 way back then. That seems to be how it goes. When the resources are abundant the interest is nil.

It’s like craving fresh peaches in January or snow in summer. It’s possible to get those things but it isn’t easy and it isn’t the same. The information about long-dead relatives is still around somewhere but finding it is more and more of a challenge each year. Although the facts remain the stories fade and all but disappear.

I have decided to call John in the off chance that he can add another piece or two to the puzzle of my life. Who knows? He may have more stories than I ever knew existed. Then again, he could be just some guy telling me to quit writing about lost doll babies. I guess I’ll find out when I get home.[[In-content Ad]]