Poem - 07 January 2018, 18:27

You Neanderthal!

I have not been called out on a sexual harassment charge - I just learned I am part Neanderthal.

My sister and I split the cost of the National Geographic DNA lineage or “Genographic.” I am half German and half English, but I want to know what MY double helix twisted ladder rotini pasta looking DNA containing the four building blocks of life looks like.

What I learn is, I am 1.1% Neanderthal. What? The “Neanders” could make clothes, fire, use stone tools and had some language capabilities and there was inter-species nookie that took place – obviously.

So the Homosapiens (modern humans) and Neanderthals lived side by side until our cavemen cousins died out.” We were smarter, and more willing to migrate, which is why we still exist. Yea for us!

ALL women were born in East Africa 180,000 years ago.    My ancestors were the first to leave Africa.
Neanderthal                            1.2% Asia Minor                  10%
Great Britain-Ireland 40% E. Europe 10%
Scandanvia                              36% Arabia 2%

The difference in my maternal side is some mix of Southern European (5%) and Jewish Disaspora (2%) and on my paternal side is Finland/Siberia (2%).

Up to 30,000 years ago, it was rare for three generations be living together due to short life spans. If a generation is 25-30 years, then in 350 years, it would consist of 12 generations more or less.
180,000 years, divided by 350 years = 514.
514 x 12 generations = 6,168 generations.

What to make of this data?
It gives me no inner satisfaction
or satiation of the soul.

My sister has done genealogical work of family ancestors, and acting as a detective has given her pleasure. It really does not spark my curiosity to know beyond my grandparents. Knowing where I come from does give me identity, and how the culture my grandparents come from have played an influence in my life. The past does give context for the present, and future.

The truth is, it would bother me to not know about my family history. Adopted kids always want to know why the parents left him or her. They would like to know about their ethnicity and family background. In the end, they have to learn how to live with what they don’t know. Ironically, I have reached out to family members to share their stories, and often, they are so private, they will take much of history I would have loved to hear about, with them to the graves.

In the end, for me, it is more important
for me to know WHO I AM
than where I came from.

If I can love myself and enjoy my company, then half the battle is won. If I have family willing to tell me family history and stories, it is icing on the cake.

Similar to the adopted child, there is still much I don’t know about my living family members and vice versa, but if I really wanted to know, I would be making phone calls and visits with pen, paper and recorder in hand, wouldn’t I?

In the end, I live with myself, and die by myself.