Being Open-Minded & Not Making Assumptions!

I didn’t read your blog about DNA test (I’ll do tomorrow), but yours is a very interesting story… I had a proposal to take the test a couple of years ago, to check genetic illnesses or markers, but the price was too high and so I didn’t. I know my family roots (or a part of) by the researches done by dad, since his family is very mixed, and Italian only for a small part. Mum was born in a very little town, and she knew most of her family, but we think there is some Spanish blood too, because her sister, some of the cousins and an aunt had Spanish traits, very different from the other members (eye, hair and skin color especially). Mum has also somatic traits a bit Arabic, but I think it is due to a past life of her, she dreamt a lot about (she was a Tuareg, a Prince of the Desert). Mum and Dad believe in reincarnation, and it is very weird, because the rest of family is Catholic, but I have an Hebrew second name… so, it would be very interesting for me doing the test… who knows, maybe in a near future I will have the money…

Thanks for sharing Colette. I love your perspective on life, and all your teachings. God Bless!

Hi Colette thank you for sharing, I find your life interesting. Mine is a Cinderella story. I have 3 sisters, my parents, I felt treated me different. I am the 2nd daughter. My mom was the eldest in her family so I felt she gave in to her eldest daughter. #3 daughter has always been demanding. My mom gave in to her. The youngest is her baby. I look back & see how I was left to fend for myself. When my mom was ill before she died in 1999, I asked her WHY? my pop was present. They both sd I was the strongest of the 4 & they knew I could be left alone & I’d survive. I’d get things done without being told or watched over. This has always bothered me. I told them they forced me to become strong. Many times I felt I had no one to lean on. My pop died in 2001 & still comes to me in my dreams. At 55yrs I feel so tired & drained. I push myself because I have too. I have 1 child a son who is 23 in the US AIR FORCE. He purchased his first home this year here in Cheyenne, Wyoming. We are very happy & content. I have cut all contact with my 3 sisters. They have never been friendly or respectful toward me. I’ve tried to keep peace with them but they don’t try. I have 2 uncles, 3 aunts left, alot of our older family members have passed. Many cousins who am friends with on FB. My son has detached himself from most of the family because he saw for himself how they treat me. That’s my story in a nutshell. One last thing I was born, raised, lived 55yrs of my life in Southern Cali, Orange County, the beach area. Moved here to Cheyenne this last December 2018 to be with my son who will be stationed here 4yrs. He ask me to move here & get away from my sisters & extended family.

Hello, my story that I know of my mother was she was full blood Han Hwec’hin, first nation of the North, however, she married my half-breed father and lost her indian rights, then she had no people, didn’t belong with no people, even though she did have her people right in the community, she didn’t belong to either. At her time, if a status person married a non-status person especially a woman, she lost all her rights, to her life, her connection, where she was allowed to live, was not allowed to have a job of any sorts, no alcohol, and especially no rights to her children that she had. I am her first born, I was wanted for the first part of my life then at around the age of 4 things changed to the worst, abandon, rejection, lost feelings and just wanting her to love me or just be there for me. Then the first husband left her with me, then she went with another man this time a white guy who then gave her 3 kids, now we all really didn’t have any rights and the community made sure that we knew that in ways that were not good. The social workers were always taking the children away to foster homes because of abandon and neglect, eventually when there were no foster homes to take us as it was a small community, we were sent to another bigger city. My mother followed us however, she had her own problems and issues going on with her self. She tried to keep in contact with us of some sorts, however, it got harder and harder as most of the time she didn’t know where we were at, when she was allowed to take us back for a short time, it was not good alcoholism and abuse were there. So eventually we became wards of the courts and taken for two years in residential schools and then a number of foster homes however we were not white or indian so we always slip between the cracks. There were three of us children kept together the others were some where else, which we didn’t get to see for years. When we were allowed to visit with each other, which was not often, we didn’t recognize that those kids were our brother or sister, we didn’t know what to say to each other, we had no connection, no way of just being there for each other, as the social workers or foster parents were always watching making sure that we stayed separated and didn’t cause problems for anyone. This dis-connection caused problems for us later in life, we couldn’t make a relationship with our siblings, or our mother, or our people, or anyone, or cultural and traditions. I, as the first born, looked like my mother, dark skinned, brown eyes, dark hair, however, somewhere along the way, I tried to become like those that kept us for the money, blue eyes, blond, white skinned, well that didn’t happened. When I aged out of the foster system, I just about repeated the same pattern that with my daughter, we had a dysfunctional relationship, however she stayed with me until she left around the age of 16 or so, I brought her up being strong, smart, any connection was better than nothing. I finally received the foster papers on why I – we were taken away from our mother and it was such a sad story that I just cried and cried for my mother on reading some of her story and her struggles. This is only some of what I do know of my mothers struggles with alcoholism, etc and she did die an early death and I saw the angels come and take her away to heaven and she was so worn out from life that it took four angels to bring her home. I, eventually was asked to be an alcohol – drug counselor with training after I was two years sober, so I said, if I was going to be in this position, I will become the best and after 30 odd years of sobriety, counselling, treatment, healing, recovery and still recovering, I now understand where my mother and people came from. My sobriety road wasn’t always smoothing going, married my husband and he sobered up, went to the 90 days aa meetings, went to alanon, and practice those teachings in my life until it became ingained in me so much so that it became a part of me. Also learnt my first nation people’s culture and traditions and incorporated it some much in the healing of my people that is was just as natural as anything. Still healing and recovering along working on healing the relationship with my children, husband, family and community and forgiving myself most of all. I am taking your course and just love it, I can identify with you and your recover and when you talk about certain issues of your own life, I do relate, as I have had certain gifts all my life, have had to shut them down for years as it make people uncomfortable around me, still had visions though and seen spirits, had vived dreams all my life, only now 65 years later, I am allowed myself to embrace my gifts, it was so natural for me to enrol in your course. Just a small snap shot of my mothers and my life time.
Thank you Thank you Thank you Freda Roberts

My youngest brother had his DNA done and there was Ashkenazi in his DNA. That was a surprise because all research he had done didn’t point to and Jewish blood. But, my great grandparents came to USA from Germany. Nobody in my family line is Jewish. Interestingly enough, I married a Jew of Russia decent.
A few years after my brother did his DNA I decided to have mine done. The percentages were different, some more than others, between us. My Scandinavian is much higher than his and my Ashkenazi is much lower. All the rest matched the fascinating research done by my brother and my aunt. My first relatives came on the Mayflower and so much more. It’s fun to learn our history, but in the end, it really doesn’t matter. Who we are today is most important.

I can’t speak to the DNA test part of my family history since none of us have taken one, but I did discover how easy it is to make faulty assumptions about family history based on limited information. During some genealogy research, years ago, we discovered that my great uncle had been in the battle of Vimy Ridge and died the day after the Canadians took the Ridge. Because it seemed the only logical conclusion, we assumed that he had been gravely injured and like many soldiers had suffered for countless hours until finally succumbing to his injuries. We were totally convinced of this story we had manufactured by filling in the gaps. But then on the 100th anniversary of Vimy, they opened the vault, so to speak, and uploaded the military records, and … we got it wrong. He survived the battle. He was sent out on a mission the next day and was picked off by a Nazi sniper. Unlike our seemingly plausible story of wounded in battle and suffering for a day, he was in fact killed instantly (or quickly) and not in the battle at all. Which, in itself is tragic, to have survived a horrendous battle like that only to be killed the very next day. But that slight change in the story we took to be “our” story, made me realize how much of our family history is invented by our need to attach a story to what limited information we may have. If new information hadn’t been released we would have passed our inaccurate version of his story down for generations because we believed it to be true. In the end, I was glad for him that his death was much swifter than it was in our imagined story but it was a good lesson to me that our stories are usually about us, personally, and not necessarily reality. Happy Thanksgiving, Colette!

Colette, thank you for this Blog. I have not had a DNA test but bless my mother, she kept things silent. My niece was doing some Ancestry information on my grandmother’s heritage but never had the real last name. My mother gave us a different name and no information. We had no pictures and only little information on who and what her family. I feel there was a reason for this and I want not into spending funds trying to find my family tree and just bless her for this. I was just appreciative we had a home, food and love.

Love you so much. Than you for sharing this amazing story with us xx

I learned from a DNA website, that members of the same family (siblings even) may not show the same DNA markers. I have not been able to have mine done, yet. I’m apprehensive about it.

My brother and I are complete opposites. I’m average, blonde, and fair (my father’s side – Irish/British?) and he is tall, brunette, and darker complexion (which is my mother’s paternal side – Native American and ?)

My mom’s family has a genealogy that is a direct lineage to George Gist – the Native American named Sequoyah. My sister-in-law confirmed and documented this with genealogical research and my niece is registered Cherokee. For all of my life, I have been so proud of this heritage. I would be devastated if my own DNA did not bear the markers! I had an Akashic Records reading not long ago where I asked if my ancestral lineage played an important role in my purpose this lifetime and was told, “not the physical lineage, but energetically, yes.” (Sequoyah’s mother was of the Red Paint Clan.)

Perhaps I am assuming, too much, too?

Dear Colette
Thank you very much for sharing your story with us, it reminded me of my own.
I was born into an Orthodox Jewish Community in the 1940s. Neither parent would talk about the family. It was much much later in fact 2006 when I traced my family tree. It stretches back to the 1600s in Cornwall in England. Maternal Grandfather was born in Australia and converted to Judaism, Maternal Grandmother was born in Lithuania and came to Scotland with her mother to escape the pogroms. I have many cousins in Australia and America, there is still much to learn. Must do a DNA test. Thank you again.

I am not asking “why?”, but your weekly readings are proving very accurate for me. I was feeling overwhelmed before I watched this week’s reading — too many bills and not enough money — until I saw your readings for this week. I am using the Wisdom of the Oracle deck I purchased, and I am following the Stars and Cards readings you do as well. Thank you for what you do!!!!! You are amazing!!!! Also, thank you for posting about your experience with DNA testing. My Dad’s family weren’t forthcoming with facts. Both he and my mother heard the tales told by his paternal and maternal grandfathers. Dad believed his paternal family came from Guernsey or Jersey Island, and there was supposed to have been an estate waiting for the fourth generation “David” in Scotland, Dad’s brother, who died in infancy. His maternal grandfather was said to have come from “near Aberdeen, Scotland” and that Grandfather’s grandparents were born in Scotland. The latter actually caused a bitter disagreement with a cousin of Dad’s researching the family tree who was basing information on documentation. I had to promise both my parents I would not listen to the cousin’s “lies”. Sadly, he wasn’t the one misrepresenting family history. Dad’s maternal grandfather and his siblings, and his parents were born in Nova Scotia. The DNA test I took supported the documentation — to a point — Guernsey was eliminated from my paternal history and I now have French and German added to Scotland, Ireland, England and, possibly, Wales. Contrary to family speculation, I do not have Indigenous ethnicity — unless my sister has her DNA tested and she does! Why did one build a fairy tale in Scotland ignoring the fact they were several generations in New Brunswick, and the other bury his roots so deeply that he only had one brother when he had multiple siblings? I may never know. The upside is I have several containers (two dr’s bags, at least one metal can, etc.) of the latter’s papers. Maybe buried somewhere in the deeds and documents there is a reason yet to be discovered. While I am enjoying the journey, I very much appreciated my father coming forward, in a very vivid dream, with my very angry mother, to resignedly approve of my plans to continue the research into the families’ histories. Dad was “tired from the journey” to see me, hurt, bewildered and disappointed that his Grandfathers don’t seem to have been peddling facts. Even Dad’s father failed to tell him he had more than two sisters and a nephew (raised as his brother). Dad didn’t know his own older brother’s full name or date of birth/death. In the dream, my Mom said nothing — just banged pots and pans going between the pantry and the stove — she baked, cooked and cleaned when she was angry. (Since I have no brothers, I am using a process of elimination to separate my father’s tree from my mother’s in my DNA relatives. My mother’s heritage has been well documented by one of my cousins.) I have jokingly said if I ever wanted to write fiction, I have lots of grist for the mill just in the details we weren’t told. What has been most enlightening for me is that I have found Dad’s maternal Grandmother’s mother’s family in England. Her father wrote everything in the Family Record in his Bible — except where he was born! He is an enigma. Pristine records for his wife, her parents, her siblings, their date of marriage, the children of the marriage, their marriages and deaths, etc. But his own roots and where he and his wife were married remain hidden. The search will continue as I am living in Dartmouth and have access to Pier 21, the Nova Scotia Archives and the Church of Latter Day Saints Family Search records. The DNA test was just the beginning of this odyssey and I look forward to learning as I go — with as open a mind as I can muster!

Dear Colette, our ancestors have such fascinating stories of trials and tribulations, joy and love stories, that we are looking for and hopefully enjoy and appreciate. Wonder if a few generations from now family will do the same, by looking us up, wanting to know us, hope they gain insight and understanding from what they find. To be truthful, today it seems we are surviving and not contributing to our lives, would be interesting to hear what future family sees.
My mom had health issues , and as time grew nearer, the opportunity to ask her about her life was presented. It was something I had not thought to ask, because she was my mom, and I knew her, I thought. It was a special time to learn about my mom, the young girl, the young wife and mother. Not everything is as you think it is. Assuming can be detrimental.
Thank you for sharing, blessings to you and your family.

Thanks so much for sharing your story Colette! Why do I wanna yell *PLOT TWIST*? *Ü* I had my OWN plot twist, and YOU were a part of it haha. You gave me a reading on Hayhouse a couple years ago and brought through my Dad whom I thought had crossed over. I had everything you said validated by my mom and you were SPOT ON!!! The PLOT TWIST happened when my daughter did a DNA test through Ancestry and accidentally found my Dad… the one whom I though I had passed! I didn’t believe it at first until my *new cousin* who was the connection on Ancestry, told her that yes… My dad was her Uncle! So… long story short, I contacted my Dad… He was living only 40 min. from me in Carmel, and went to see him. We had 13 crazy months of trying to get to know each other before he passed at the age of 86 last month. Because of DNA testing I found all kinds of interesting tidbits of where I came from AND… I now have an amazing biography of my family’s history whom all came from Norway. Now to get to the *assumption* part. I assumed through my entire life (since I was 3… I’m now 64) that my Dad had kidnapped my brother, sister and me and took us out of the country to Hawaii, before Hawaii became a state. Hearing what my new siblings told me (another PLOT TWIST…. AND they grew up in my hometown and went to my high school!) he told them that he was so mad at my mom for divorcing him and remarrying, that when he came to pick us up for a scheduled visit, he didn’t bring us back cuz he was in fear that he’d never see us again. (you told me that he didn’t see it as kidnapping. Another validation!) Ironically, after he passed, my new sister found 71 home movies he took of his life, and in amongst them was one of my siblings and me with him and my mom in 1958 at DISNEYLAND!!! Crazy, huh??? (I wonder if that’s why I’ve always loved Disneyland? Such a happy time with him and my mom) 7 months later is when he took us and that was the last time I saw him. Anyway, I’m really working on not making assumptions! (but it’s soooo hard!) Anyway… sorry for the rambling… Really did enjoy your story! Thanks so much for being you! :3