“You’re so lucky,” I told my colleague, Danielle, the other day. We were talking about our ancestors and she was telling me about her lineage from her father’s side.
“I wish I could trace my family’s history all the way back. I mean, really far back.”
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a bit of a history nerd! I’ve always wanted to find out more about my descendents using one of those online ancestry tools. You know, those websites that pretty much guarantee that there’s at least one Founding Father in your family tree?
But when your parents are from a tiny Syriac Christian town in southeastern Turkey, like mine are, it’s not so easy to trace things back.
A few days after talking to Danielle, I went up to my parents’ house for the weekend. My dad walked into the kitchen, a big smile on his face.
“Look what I found!” he said. He held in his hands two red books with striped bindings. He’d been cleaning out his office at home when he stumbled upon them. “Dede’s notebooks!”
“Dede” was what we all called my grandfather–my dad’s father–who passed away right before I went to college. He was a priest in Turkey and an Aramaic scholar.
I was never able to communicate very well with him because of our language differences. But he was still one of the holiest people I’ve ever met. There was just something about him. This aura.
I took a closer look at the notebooks. “So…what are they?” I asked, studying the funny-looking characters.
One book appeared to be about the Syriac people. In the second book, I noticed dates written in the margin. And names. It was a history of the Aydin family written in Aramaic!
Tucked into one of the books was also a printout of our family tree going back eight generations–a project my dad had worked on with Dede before he passed away. But that wasn’t all.
On top of the books, my dad found Dede’s will. And a note addressed to his nine children and their families. In the days after Dede’s funeral, my dad must’ve set the note aside and forgotten all about it.
My dad can no longer read Aramaic like he used to, but he was able to translate some of the message:
I pray that you keep your faith and family forever. I give you all my blessings. Never lose your culture, family and ancestry.
I was blown away. What are the chances my dad would stumble upon these gems, long forgotten, just as I was wishing and hoping for some connection to the past?
I’d like to think Dede heard me from Heaven loud and clear. And wanted me to receive this last message.
P.S. My dad is working on getting the rest of Dede’s books deciphered. Once he does, I’ll do my best to honor Dede’s last request.
Have you ever stumbled upon wonder, like a note or letter from the past? Share your story below!
