The dream always starts out the same. Yet, I could have never been prepared for what my subconscious would eventually reveal.
Driving along the winding mountain road, I feel queasy. I am not sure why or even if there is a reason for this feeling. I sense I have been here before. Yet each time I find myself thinking about this road, I realize I am in a different vehicle each time. Yet I am familiar with the route, even though I have no clear destination.
As I continue the climb, it occurs to me I am alone, there are no passengers with me, and the weather begins to slowly change. Or is it the day is giving way to night and it resembles storm clouds rolling across the horizon? Either way, I am sure of one thing, I am alone, climbing this 10% grade and the guard rails are extremely suspect.
At one point I begin to question the stability of the truck--or is it the terrain that has become unstable? I am unable to differentiate between the two and all I am sure of is my forward momentum is slowing.
I flashback to high school in the parking lot when we used to depress the brake while holding the gas pedal to the floor. The smell of burning rubber and wicked screeching of the tires were all I could think of as I pushed the gas pedal further into the floor. The engine RPMs hit 6, 7 then 9 thousand as I inched along the mountain road at 25 miles per hour.
At some point the truck launches forward as if shot from a canon. I feel a THUD on the passenger side, but the sudden acceleration holds my attention as I head into the curve at 50 miles an hour.
As the truck goes into the turn, I have a vision of past dreams...the sudden sway of the front end tells me that this is more than a dream..it is is now my reality..the thud is being replayed in my mind. What I so casually ignored is now in my face. I realize the front right tire is GONE! Did the lug nuts come loose? Were they sheared off? This is my dream come to life. One I have had hundreds of times. I brace myself knowing how this ends. The truck starts to slide to the right, front end first. I am fighting the steering wheel for control, praying to avoid the enviable.
And just as the front end of the truck jumps over the edge and free falls down the mountain...I reach for the driver's door, fighting to get it open...and just as the truck clears the road and plummets for the river below, I bolt out of bed in a cold sweat. Just as I have a hundred times before..
Loewenberg calls this dream of FALLING a “red flag from your subconscious.” She believes this dream is common in people who are having a major life problem with work, relationships, or elsewhere. Grant’s work concurs with this viewpoint, even citing the same examples.
I really should have spent more time getting to know my dreams. Perhaps a few books might have provided insight? I have read that men who dream of balloons are actually thinking of women's breasts? What little I did read about dreams, mostly seemed irrelevant and written by those whose objective was to make a dollar while putting forth little effort.
It was not until December 2018 that the meaning of this dream would be understood. That somewhere within my subconscious, I was dealing with a major life problem I had no idea even existed.
It all started with an Ancestry dot com DNA test. Who'd a thought so many secrets were contained in a vial of spit.
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 30, 2019
Monday, January 28, 2019
#002 Hi, I have you as a close cousin....
Ever since I can remember, I have loved opening the mail box to see what had been delivered. It felt like Christmas everyday...walking down the 250 foot drive to retrieve the mail was a great journey for a 6 year old.
I was so disappointed when my parents moved the mailbox from the street to just 4 foot from the front door. No longer would I make the trek to the box through knee deep snow, or stop at the puddles for an extra jump, nor would I ever again have to endure any weather elements as the four foot walk from the door was now covered by the porch.
Later on on life, I had this same excitement when checking my e-mail. Always looking for some wonderful news, a great free-offer, or surprising announcement from a close friend or family.
On November 22, 2018 I received an e-mail that was not only SURPRISING, but it was from a close family member. WAIT..a close family member I have NEVER met? A first cousin? ROFLMAO. Oh. no she didn't...I knew all my first cousins, and I even knew their names. We were of proud Irish Duquette descent (maternal grandmother), tough German Koester ancestry (maternal grandfather) or on my dad's side strong Cherokee Hightower and robust people of the Appalachia Vowells. I had zero idea where the Karinen name originated from.
I had just rebuilt my credit and was almost financially stable (LOL). This had to be one of those phishing schemes. I was being targeted by some third-world, backwoods extortionist.
I suppose at this point of my journey I need to provide some sort of backstory?
I had been raised in a solid blue-collar house. My father worked nearly 37 years in a steel mill, the same company I would work for after graduating high school in 1978. My mother had an early "career" with Ford Motor Company in Dearborn, Michigan and would work on-and-off throughout the years I was growing up.
There are five of us kids, four boys and the youngest a girl. We were all taught our family heritage from an early age. While none of my siblings showed much of an interest in the family history, I was intrigued by the stories of my great-grand-mother, Cora Lee Hightower--FULL BLOOD CHEROKEE.
It was this genealogical information that eventually led me to ANCESTRY'S DNA analysis.
The end of July, 2017, I decided, with some prompting from my wife Melissa, to order the Ancestry DNA Kit. This decision was made in part because Melissa's brother had just done Ancestry, and at the time it was just $69.
My interest in my Cherokee heritage had grown immensely since 1996 when I moved to Madison, Wisconsin and got involved in social activism. Melissa and I had even gone to Cherokee, North Carolina to get up close and personal with my culture. When I was about 10 or 11, my paternal grandmother had told stories of going to Cherokee to see an Uncle Joe. She did not have anything good to say about "those" people, but in my heart, I knew I was one of those people.
So, it came to be, I had to do the Ancestry test just to affirm my history.
My results arrived via e-mail on August 09, 2017. I eagerly clicked on the link to see the actual data identifying me as NATIVE AMERICAN.
Just like that stupid lederhosen commercial for Ancestry, I had ZERO matches for NATIVE AMERICAN, and less than 3% IRISH and nearly 34% FINLAND / NORTHWEST RUSSIA. Additionally Ancestry showed my migration pattern as from the Norwegian area to Pennsylvania? I knew that my history showed my people (maternal) migrated from GERMANY to the Northern Ohio area and from IRELAND to the Michigan area. Paternally I should have found a migration pattern from England to the Appalachians.
Of course someone was wrong...and I was positive it was not my parents. I then called one of my brothers and convinced him to do Ancestry DNA just to verify my results.
While his DNA data was different, it was not remarkably different..except his migration pattern pointed directly to the SOUTHEASTERN area of KENTUCKY.
I then left Ancestry alone and would not return until 8 months later to review my DNA results summary.
When I logged into Ancestry 8 months later, not only had my Ancestry DNA data changed, my entire LIFE was shattered.
NEXT: Were there any adoptions in your family around 1960?
I was so disappointed when my parents moved the mailbox from the street to just 4 foot from the front door. No longer would I make the trek to the box through knee deep snow, or stop at the puddles for an extra jump, nor would I ever again have to endure any weather elements as the four foot walk from the door was now covered by the porch.
Later on on life, I had this same excitement when checking my e-mail. Always looking for some wonderful news, a great free-offer, or surprising announcement from a close friend or family.
On November 22, 2018 I received an e-mail that was not only SURPRISING, but it was from a close family member. WAIT..a close family member I have NEVER met? A first cousin? ROFLMAO. Oh. no she didn't...I knew all my first cousins, and I even knew their names. We were of proud Irish Duquette descent (maternal grandmother), tough German Koester ancestry (maternal grandfather) or on my dad's side strong Cherokee Hightower and robust people of the Appalachia Vowells. I had zero idea where the Karinen name originated from.
I had just rebuilt my credit and was almost financially stable (LOL). This had to be one of those phishing schemes. I was being targeted by some third-world, backwoods extortionist.
I suppose at this point of my journey I need to provide some sort of backstory?
I had been raised in a solid blue-collar house. My father worked nearly 37 years in a steel mill, the same company I would work for after graduating high school in 1978. My mother had an early "career" with Ford Motor Company in Dearborn, Michigan and would work on-and-off throughout the years I was growing up.
There are five of us kids, four boys and the youngest a girl. We were all taught our family heritage from an early age. While none of my siblings showed much of an interest in the family history, I was intrigued by the stories of my great-grand-mother, Cora Lee Hightower--FULL BLOOD CHEROKEE.
It was this genealogical information that eventually led me to ANCESTRY'S DNA analysis.
The end of July, 2017, I decided, with some prompting from my wife Melissa, to order the Ancestry DNA Kit. This decision was made in part because Melissa's brother had just done Ancestry, and at the time it was just $69.
My interest in my Cherokee heritage had grown immensely since 1996 when I moved to Madison, Wisconsin and got involved in social activism. Melissa and I had even gone to Cherokee, North Carolina to get up close and personal with my culture. When I was about 10 or 11, my paternal grandmother had told stories of going to Cherokee to see an Uncle Joe. She did not have anything good to say about "those" people, but in my heart, I knew I was one of those people.
So, it came to be, I had to do the Ancestry test just to affirm my history.
My results arrived via e-mail on August 09, 2017. I eagerly clicked on the link to see the actual data identifying me as NATIVE AMERICAN.
Just like that stupid lederhosen commercial for Ancestry, I had ZERO matches for NATIVE AMERICAN, and less than 3% IRISH and nearly 34% FINLAND / NORTHWEST RUSSIA. Additionally Ancestry showed my migration pattern as from the Norwegian area to Pennsylvania? I knew that my history showed my people (maternal) migrated from GERMANY to the Northern Ohio area and from IRELAND to the Michigan area. Paternally I should have found a migration pattern from England to the Appalachians.
Of course someone was wrong...and I was positive it was not my parents. I then called one of my brothers and convinced him to do Ancestry DNA just to verify my results.
While his DNA data was different, it was not remarkably different..except his migration pattern pointed directly to the SOUTHEASTERN area of KENTUCKY.
I then left Ancestry alone and would not return until 8 months later to review my DNA results summary.
When I logged into Ancestry 8 months later, not only had my Ancestry DNA data changed, my entire LIFE was shattered.
NEXT: Were there any adoptions in your family around 1960?
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