Five-thirty in the morning; I’ve been awake “too long.” This being my journal, I’m going to document my frustration. A story (for Mennonite Family History) is at the tip of my fingers but may meet the same fate as other projects. “Too tired, too old,” you’ve heard my lament.
A DNA “cousin” contacted me a few days ago. If I remember correctly, she had sixty-four individuals in her Ancestry “tree.” I had her, and her entire family, in my Ancestry database. I sent, and she accepted, the invitation to be a guest in my Ancestry “tree.” I anticipated a rapid reply with squeals of delight seeing her ancestry spread out in a big fan. No reply, no thanks.
With Ancestry, there is never a “stopping point” so I’m addicted to “one more name, one more source.” Frequently, I find myself working with names and question “How did I get here?” (Seriously.) Then, in a strange quirk, I’m back to familiar surnames and realize I’ve just located another branch of the tree.
Imagine my surprise, the other day, to find that I’m deceased. This “cousin,” on the other hand, has a database exceeding thirty-six thousand names and Lorraine Frantz is documented with death date and location. I failed to do a “screen print” to document the information and now “too late.” I sent a message to the individual (with a massive amount of data) saying I’m healthy, and happy, and just enjoyed my eighty-fourth birthday. No reply, no explanation, no apology.
In this “information age,” I find individuals are so impersonal. I’m an old-fashioned lady who likes to write long, wordy email messages. I love to express myself on my blog/journal. I love to share (because I care). Did consideration disappear with the “land line” (telephone), letter writing, and neighbor asking “Can I borrow an egg?” I’m so old-fashioned, I have a “flip phone” (no “smart phone”), laptop computer(s) with Windows-seven operating system, and TV without special features.
Here’s a humorous note: Another “cousin” finds we (he and I) may not exist because our family documentation is flawed. Our information–via tradition–may be correct and public documentation may be flawed? Look at those old records: Misspelling, illegible handwriting, etc., etc. Human error?
Human error? Will the “information age” turn us into puppets glued to “smart phones” (or computer, Lorraine)?