We all need Roots

         We all need roots to survive. A place to belong. Family from which we spring from--it's so obvious, without roots we can't survive. In some families their tree sprouts and grows strong through the generations leaving behind a legacy of tradition, culture and customs.

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     For others it's not so easy. They are born alone, live alone and die alone. Although they have roots somewhere, they are unaware of them or believe them unimportant. What roots they have, are small and stunted trying so hard to absorb the moisture of life, only to find their sense of belonging isn't strong enough to help them to survive.
     Recently, my little granddaughter, age four, brought me two weeds she'd plucked up that day. It was so sweet, the weeds looked like small palm trees.
     I said, "Wow, thank you, they look like palm trees!"
     She said, "They have roots too!"
     She's learned at an early age that even flowers and weeds need roots to live. She had previously brought wild flowers to me and asked why they didn't live longer in the water. I explained to her that once they are cut off, and are without their roots, they only live for a short time. I guess she took this to heart.

My granddaughter's flower--with roots! 

     My mother and dad are both gone, and I was my mother's only child. Not many relatives are left on either side for me, so feeling rather rootless, I began to search out my genealogy earlier this year. What I found was so rich. I wasn't rootless-- I had a heritage. I found relatives that had fought and died in the Revolutionary and Civil War, a three times great grandmother in eastern Missouri listed as a witch (she made the history book in Missouri!), a great grandfather who was a prominent rancher in Colorado, relatives that had married Native Americans when our country was new and some Knights and blue bloods in England! My mother came from very humble beginnings and further back in her tree there were Barons, Lords and Ladies! I was amazed!

     Biological roots aren't always possible, for those that are adopted. But even though these roots spring from a different source they give solidarity and purpose. One great grandmother was adopted by a officer and family at Ft. Garland and was a pioneer resident to Colorado--she bore 11 children and was the first post mistress at St. Mary's in Colorado.

My father Leonard Benson and Mother Lucille and me as a baby 1961.

     
     These relatives bring color and drama into our lives, stories and legends. They help us belong to humanity, to nationalities and tribes and languages. They are our stories and our life, the ground we were born over. Without roots, we have no meaning, I'm so glad to have found mine!