Where have you come from , where have you been?

I'm not very good at starting a project and finishing it. I tend to start something - painting a bathroom, for example - and about half-way through, I'm more interested in something else than in finishing painting the bathroom. And that tends to be the way with most things I start, unfortunately.

For another example: Since I started writing this post, I've stopped to feed the cats, to clean a litter box (I washed my hands really well after), I have my FaceBook up and am watching (listening, really) to an episode of The West Wing - all while writing this post.

And all the while, I have a list of thing flitting through my head of things I need to do ...

• Dogs need a bath
• Vacuum the up- & downstairs
• Organize the too-small clothes
• Wash the guest room sheets
• Sweep & mop the kitchen
• Sweep & mop the half-bath
• Take out the trash
• Iron shirts 

...

Hopefully by this point you're getting the idea.

For a long time - since before my Grandmother's death in 2002 - I've been very interested in my family's history. From word-of-mouth I know quite a lot, but there's so much more to be, well, discovered. Just this weekend, my maternal Great-Grandmother and my paternal Grandmother were heavy on my mind. I thought of all the things they said or did during my life with them that helped mold me ... And about how sad I am not to have them here, now, to know the woman I am - to know my children.

So I pulled up their obituaries - the sum of their public lives.

My Great-Grandmother, Lola Williams Sloan, was an educator in South Carolina for 45 years. She helped pioneer special education in South Carolina (That's her with the huge sun hat on ... With myself, my Mom and my younger sister).

My Grandmother, Marian LaCross Williams Jones, was a Voter's Rights advocate in Marion, South Carolina during the 1970's, helping residents get registered to vote and helping them make it to the polls. (That's her, wearing red and showing off her gardening)

Those facts are out there for the world to know, but those facts are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to lives well-lived.

My grandmothers loved fiercely - their family and their friends. They didn't accept "good enough" - from family, friends, neighbors. The worked harder than hard - from sun-up to sun-down. They cooked. They laughed. They hugged children who needed hugs - their own children or the children of others. My grandmothers taught me (and others) - sometimes in a traditional classroom, sometimes while playing basketball in the driveway.

I'm sad that my children won't know these women - will never touch their hands, be hugged by them, snuggle in their laps, eat their cooking, listen to them read, sit with them through a thunderstorm ... So I'm going to try to do better about finishing projects and I'm going to do more research on our family tree. Because knowing where you come from can help direct you to where you're going.