I am really enjoying the weekly challenge from Amy Johnson Crow, to write something about your Family, every week for a whole year, #52Ancestors in 52 weeks.
Week 7 is a toughie, as there are so many “favourite discoveries” to choose from. Where do you even begin to start, well the clue’s there, “begin”.
I should start at the very beginning, what actually triggered everything and started me off on my journey of discovery.
I sadly lost my Dad, Frank William George Chiddicks, when I was just three years old, he was killed in a road traffic accident in 1967, aged just 30. So I grew up without any real “memory” of the little time we had together.
I spent a large part of growing up living at my Grand-parents house, but “Dad’s name was never mentioned, because it was so upsetting for my Nan, so I grew up not really being able to ask all the questions that I really wanted to ask.
As time passed, the questions began to eat away at me, constantly nagging at my conscience.
At the age of 21, I moved out on my own, and when I packed up my things to go, Mum brought down this box that I had never seen before, it contained a photo album of my Dad, plus his watch, his wedding ring and a hankie that was his. I just cried and cried, like I am now, this is the first time that I have actually written or spoken about this moment, since I was given the box.
I would look at these things throughout my life, normally when things were difficult or tough, looking for some inspiration or guidance. Of course I believed that it always gave me the guidance or help I needed at the time.
From that moment on, I started asking questions, I wasnt afraid or scared to mention his name anymore. He was an incredible Man, someone that everyone loved, he was very kind and generous and somebody who would do anything for anyone. I felt enormous pressure growing up and walking in his shoes. I think I am over that now, but I do miss having that one person to rely on, that we all need, that shoulder to lean on when you need it the most.
I missed you not being by my side at all the significant moments in my life.
What I miss the most is “the what might have been”, all the moments we could have had together.
So from this day forward a “Family History Researcher” was born.
I can’t put the picture of the box on here, as it’s just to personal, but I will share with you some pictures from the photo album.
I love and miss you Dad…….