[Note: this is stream of consciousness writing for Linda’s Saturday prompt, taking the title only of the last movie I watched, not the content, and going from there.]
When my daughter received the results of her DNA test, there was a surprise bit of Irish mixed in. 🍀 It had to be from my side, just because. We speculated that my maternal grandmother slept with an Irish milkman. But why did he have to be a milkman? I don’t know. Probably because of a long-running alt.writing joke about them on Usenet.
I became excited about being part Irish. This explains why I like green, I decided, and my cravings for those delicious shamrock-shaped butter cookies. I also love rainbows… who doesn’t love a rainbow? 🌈 Apparently, you can’t say anything about rainbows now without some idiot making it political. Eff that. Rainbows are pretty! I put Ireland on my list of places to visit that I can’t afford, and I don’t have a passport besides.
But then a very smart science person in a Facebook group (I was on FB at the time) explained to me that genetics didn’t work that way. Just because a (not necessarily accurate) test showed my daughter with this 12% or whatever Irish doesn’t mean I have a quarter. It was a while ago though and I don’t remember the discussion cuz I guess once she said there’s no guarantee of an Irishman in my ancestry I lost interest.
But I went ahead and took my own test a while later… and yep, no Irish. Where’d my Irish grandpa go? Disappeared. 😢 At that point, one might start to look to my child’s other parent for the Irish connection, but let’s just not. There is no Irish there. It’s either in my genes or nowhere. We began to accept that the Irish part of her result was an error.
However! Ancestry is continually updating its database. As more people submit their DNA, the methodology gets more accurate, and they tweak your profile from time to time. The last time I peeked in, relatively recently… not only had they pinpointed my Ohio family with greater geographical precision, but also they threw some Irish on me. Just a wee bit, but I was wearin’ the green in mah genes!
I know, I know. Who cares? It’s fun though. When I was in my 20s and 30s, I thought all genealogy research was stupid. You hang out with people you love and who act like they give a damn about you, and… that’s it. Why does it matter who your third cousin twice removed is if you never talk to her? Who GAF about 100 year old newspaper clippings, bah! But now… as I’m close to finishing up my 50s, I’m getting all mushy about connectedness. Family ties. All that. My aunt sent me a totally awesome book full of family stuffs and I’m really digging it. When I was younger I wouldn’t have been interested, but…
Things change. ✨
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