Category: Blog

Below is a great 8-minute video that summarizes what I’ve always thought of Judaism. But it wasn’t until I saw the results of our daughter’s DNA on Ancestry that it really hit me – Judaism is not a religion. It’s actually in the DNA. It’s who they are. Our daughter is a solid 50% Ashkenazi Jew.

The Jewish “religion” denies that our daughter is Jewish because I’m not a Jew and I’m the mother. That being said, biologically and DNAically, she IS half Jewish, and Hitler would not have argued.

I equate this to King Henry VIII who just told his subjects, “You are now protestant, or off with your head.” And you either complied or died. Most complied and merely switched churches, or religions. Hitler knew right from the start, even if a Jew attended Catholic church, they were still a Jew. How is it the Hitler knew this and so many North American Jews don’t know this?

I watched a news report a few years ago, an interview with a Jewish woman in Montreal after the Jewish cemetery was defaced. She said, “I don’t understand why people do this to us. Its only a religion!”

“No, no!” I said. You are so wrong. And by saying that you undermine Judaism. Rudy Rochman in the video below makes a very clear comparison with the North American Indigenous people (which also shows up in your DNA). Even if the a North American Indigenous person rejects everything about being indigenous, they are still indigenous, because they are a “people” – not a religion. Yet, the Indigenous people have a religion or a believe system they can embrace.

This is the same as the Jews. They are a people, no matter what they believe in. And if they choose, they can embrace the religious beliefs of the Jewish people.

I’ve brought this up to my husband’s family and relatives and I was VERY shocked to have them completely reject it, actually saying that Ancestry is a scam, that’s there’s no way Jewish DNA can be measured BECAUSE ITS JUST A RELIGION.

Here’s a Q & A with my husband:

Do you believe in god? NO
Do you go to synagogue? NO
Do you follow any of the Jewish “religious” traditions? NO
Do you want to move to Israel? NO, BUT IF I WERE YOUNGER, I’D JOIN THE ISRAELI ARMY.
Do you consider yourself Polish? I’VE NEVER THOUGHT OF MYSELF AS POLISH.
Do you know anything about your Jewish heritage? ONLY WHAT YOU’VE TOLD ME.
Are you a Jew? YES!

The Jews are NOT indigenous to Israel. The Bedouins are. Here’s a quote from nbcnews.com:

Israeli authorities concentrated those [Bedouins] who remained [after 1948] into a smaller patch of desert and later sought to move them into newly built townships. But many refused, reluctant to give up their ancient way of life.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/arabs-living-israels-negev-desert-are-sitting-ducks-hamas-rcna120168

Sound familiar?

This is a great video in that it goes over the history of Jews in a very small nutshell.  The only issue I have with it, is that he compares the Jews to the Indigenous People of North America.  There IS a big difference between these scenarios.

The Indigenous People of North America are, in fact, the First Nations People, meaning they were actually in North American land FIRST.  The “white man” took over their land and relegated them to “Indian Reserves”, mistreated them, abused them, murdered them and their children.

The Jews took over the land that is now Israel from the Bedouin Tribes, relegating them to pockets of land.  I have no idea how Israel have treated them over the centuries, but recently I read that they have been fighting for recognition for a very long time. Hmmm… sounds familiar.

The Indigenous People of North America have never claimed they deserve the land because “God gave it to them.”  They were on the land for tens of thousands of years.  No one “gave” them the land.  The Jews believe God gave them Israel and that’s why they deserve it.  Not sure why they don’t just admit, like we’ve had to do in North America, that we TOOK the land and now we have to say “I’m sorry” and try to butter them up by giving them money.

History is based on one people killing off another people, then taking their land. It was life back then, and it IS life now, as Russia proved with the invasion of Ukraine.

Nazi physicians claimed the moral high ground by transforming the Hippocratic Oath from a doctor-patient relationship to a state-Völkskorper—or nation’s body—relationship. They justified the sterilization or elimination of ‘lives not worth living’ as a merciful preventive measure, simultaneously ending the suffering of the genetically inferior and preventing transmission of their presumably hereditary harmful traits.

Opinion: The life-and-death history lesson that doctors aren’t learning, CNN.com, Opinion by Kirsi Goldynia, published December 7, 2023

This should be a class in high school, part of the “Life Skills” series that should begin in grade 9. How many parents have the instinct to say “give your head a shake” to their teen-to-young-adult children? Or want to (and some do) slap their kid “up the side of the head” to try and knock some sense into them. If only it were that easy. And I don’t condone slapping your kids. Its especially not wise when they are young adults, because they just might slap you back.

Young people are more impulsive because they don’t weigh risks and consequences the same way adults do, says Dr. Carl Fleisher, an expert in adolescent and child psychiatry, in an article on UCLA Health. Their judgment and decision-making abilities are underdeveloped because the prefrontal cortex — the brain’s executive control center — is not fully developed until the mid-20s, Fleisher says.

“He lost his son to suicide after a ‘sextortion’ scam. Now this lawmaker is fighting to save other teens“, By Faith Karimi, CNN, published 3:06 AM EDT, Sat May 13, 2023.

There is a reason however to this age group have under developed front cortexes, after all, who in their right might would run into military battle other than young adults. Consider what military battle meant 1000 years ago…. Vikings? 2000 years ago … biblical? 10000 years ago … when the life expectancy was 40.

This year, like every year, Canada and the USA debate whether we should do away with Daylight Savings Time. Its antiquated – for the farmers of old. Its just not applicable to 21st century living. Too bad we couldn’t just make a global decision about the maturity of the frontal cortex, or FC as I’m going to refer to it. Let’s decide that its full development in the mid-20s is antiquated, not applicable anymore to 21st century culture. In fact, its detrimental to the well being of teens and young adults. Its killing them!!

When I was a teenager I was smarter than my parents who had no idea how to live in the 1970s. They didn’t trust me to make my own decisions when I had more education than they did. And my FC indeed did not start to come around until my early 20s when I put myself back into the educational system. I must have had a universal guardian energy to keep my safe during those years.

My daughter went through the same thing. From high school until her mid-20s, she was a different person. Some people casually threw around the idea that if I had gone through those difficult years, it only made sense that she would too. In my mind, that could not happen if I had never discussed those years with her. My parents talked about they lack of education all time, mostly because I truly believe (especially my mother) they had imposter syndrome.

I made a point of never mentioning my past to my daughter because I didn’t want her getting any ideas. It is only now that I realize that it is genetic – a slow “ripening” of the FC.

My grandparents needed that underdeveloped brain to pioneer their way into Canada, living through what now would be considered, impossible conditions. What fully developed FC person would have one baby per year, beginning at age 18 and have a full brood by age 30? Likely the reason that by the time the FC developed, the woman were dead and the husband needed to married someone with an underdeveloped FC so they would make the insane decision to marry and old man and look after all his children!

My Great Big Brother

Walking down a gravel road¹ towards a haunted house²
Scary bushes³ to the left of me and I’m feeling like a mouse
But Wayne is there to comfort me, to find what’s under cover
He’s big and strong, he’s brave and bold. He’s my great big brother.

Running through the fields of grain, not knowing where I’m going
There’s timothy, alfalfa and more there that’s growing
Its getting dark we’ll soon be in real trouble with our mother
His voice is my safe harbour light⁴.  He’s my great big brother.

Point your finger, sayin’ Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I’ll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Marching through the forest thick⁵, the branches curve and twist
A blur of orange marmalade flies past us to be first⁶
Listening for the chopping axe, hard work day for our father
Switches, lines for fishing rods, made by my big brother.

Snuggled in our beds at night, a dog⁷ and Beary Weary
Conjured tales and made up plots, our whispers always carry⁸.
Bounce me from my perch on high⁹, flying like no other¹⁰.
We laughed so hard, I hit the sky¹¹ thanks to my big brother.

Point your finger, sayin’ Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I’ll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Dragging wagons up the hill to a big green glowing ball¹²
Wood to make a solid floor and boards to make the walls
Ladder held with binding twine, only leading to another
Ending in a tree house built by Phillip and my big brother.

Sneaking out the window, down the tree with mason jars
Our room became the midnight sky, filled with shooting stars¹³
Flying past his shelves of books¹⁴, so eager to discover.
He’s so smart, so big and brave. He’s my great big brother.

Point your finger, sayin’ Sik-em boy,
Showing me how to use your brand new toy.
Jump on your bike, I’ll race you down the lane
Always losing time and again.
Throw the ball. Wait for the call.
Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

Anti-I-Over. Anti-I-Over.
Can you throw the ball over?
Anti-I-Over.

1 Our gravel driveway down to the Trunk Road

2 Aunt Liza’s abandoned house across the Trunk Road

3 The scary chokecherry bush at the end of the gate

4 I’d follow the sound of Wayne’s voice as I couldn’t see him through the tall grain

5 Forest behind Aunt Liza’s house before the Blue Sea Creek

6 Our dog Buster, yellow-orange and white

7 Wayne’s stuffed dog, Buster and his teddy bear, Beary Weary

8 Mom always heard us playing after bedtime and we’d get into trouble

9 I was in the top bunk

10 Wayne would kick me up in the air

11 I hit the ceiling once

12 Massive maple tree in the forest south-east of the house

13 Fire flies Wayne would free in the dark bedroom

14 Wayne had a huge book collection on shelves Dad made for him.

I had an epiphany today about forgiveness. I realize I never really knew what it meant. Perhaps I should have looked it up on dictionary.com:

– stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for (an offense, flaw, or mistake)

dictionary.com

While I know this is part of the process, I thought there was another thought preceding it: “Its OK that you did what you did….” This is the part of forgiveness with which I have a huge problem. But I see that there is no mention of that problem phrase in the dictionary.com definition.

I also found this (below).

Forgiveness actually embodies three different things, each of which applies to different situations and provides different results. The three types of forgiveness are: exoneration, forbearance and release.

ctfassets.net

Exoneration? (“officially absolving someone from blame”. Oh no no no…) Forebearance? (“patient self-control; restraint and tolerance”. Doesn’t sound like forgiveness to me!) Release? Hmmm…. that has potential.

On thriveworks.com, I found “7 Steps to True Forgiveness” which I won’t quote here because Step #5 is “Repair” where you’re supposed to repair the relationship you had with the person who needs forgiving. This is the step I have a problem with and why I could NEVER understand forgiving someone who murdered, raped and/or brutalized you or someone you love, or anyone for that matter. The mere act of deliberate manipulation and mean-spiritedness, invokes in me an unforgivable feeling. So my unforgivable-self has a very wide spectrum. While I can go on with my day to day, month to month, living and not think about it, when I do recall certain negative event(s), I feel the anger in my stomach but I can shake it off, reasoning with myself that in the long run, my quality of life was not effected.

An example would be something I said (it usually is!) – a truth – that should have been my inside voice. While drinking at an evening function with a group of acquaintances, an idea came up for us to plan a group trip in a year to go to a warm destination. One woman said she couldn’t possibly plan that, as her aunt was 98 and she needed to be available for her. My inside voice came out and said, “Oh my god! She’ll be dead by then.” She never forgave me, according to her husband. Do I acknowledge that what I said was insensitive? Yes. Do I regret saying it? ….hmmmm, it was quite funny at the time and, in my mind, she was over-sensitive to the issue considering the amount of alcohol we had just consumed. Her aunt did die. This woman was not part of my daily life before the unfortunate comment, so not having her in my life afterwards meant nothing to me. I’m sure she feels the same.

Another example was when I suggested to my uncle, who had two jobs after retirement while is daughter (my cousin who I talked to about once every 10 years or so) was on welfare, that perhaps he could give one of his jobs to his daughter to get her off welfare. I had not been drinking alcohol – it was an honest truth and observation that I thought was a brilliant solution. He told her what I said and she was angry. My Mom told me that my cousin would likely never speak to me again. And I said, “My life will never be the same. I’ll certainly miss those conversations!”

My last example is when I put together a book on the genealogy of my mother’s ancestors and through an honest clerical error, missed adding the family of an adopted daughter into the index of the book. Her name was under her maiden name, but her married name (husband and children) were not. This was unforgivable to her even though her children were absolutely not descendants of my ancestors. When I see her at family functions and reunions, her face is filled with hate and rage — 25 years later. And she has passed this hate and rage on to her sisters, her mother (now passed) and her family. I apologized to her many times in writing.

This is a double edged “forgive” situation. She turned an innocent clerical error into a generational family-splitting calamity. I’ll never forget what she did, but I forgive her. In my mind, she’s not part of my “life” or family anymore. I don’t care about her – she’s nothing to me now. I feel no anger or resentment and I actually feel sorry for her if I think about her at all. To me, this is an adopted monkey on her back, not on mine. So, is that true forgiveness?

I know there are people who, for whatever reason, be it a mental illness or severity, who cannot “shake it off”. My cousin cannot shake it off. I also acknowledge that there are events that I would find “unforgivable”. If anyone committed a crime against my life-partner, our daughter, my sisters or my brother – I would likely be filled with hate and rage. I would hope that I would not let it consume me, but there’s no guarantee.

Lorne (my life-partner) recently discovered a cousin living in Sydney, Australia. Jack Meister was born in 1928 and is a holocaust survivor. He’s won awards for his volunteerism in Sydney, for sharing his life story. His parents and his brother, and all relatives known to him died in the camps. He lost everything when, at 11 years old, he was rounded up and taken to a ghetto, then a few years later taken to Auschwitz. He says he forgives, but he’ll never forget. The man hasn’t one hate or rage bone in his body. He exudes joy and gratefulness. How is this possible?

“…they mean they can forgive the current generation for whom blame can’t be put as it wasn’t them and forgive those poor souls who had to do what they were told otherwise they (suffered) the same fate. [were shot]

But not to forget the horrors of the war and what man did to man and are still doing. Remember that countries fall into their own fate by obeying dictators and not standing up for their own countrymen.

And yes he is not consumed by hatred…

Leanna Delevski, Jack’s daughter

Jack also says that his survival is because “someone” from above is looking out over him. So where was that “someone” when his parents and brother died? Where was that “someone” when my beautiful niece died of cancer when she was 30? Is that “someone” there right now watching over my brother on life-support in Saskatoon? This sounds like a topic for another blog.

So going back to the first definition of forgiveness… if I were a Holocaust survivor, meeting one of the tormentors from Auschwitz who had murdered my family, I would shoot him or her dead without anger or malice or resentment, saying, “I forgive you, but I’ll never forget you.” I would then go home and sleep peacefully – and feel released.

My sister Carol and I have had many discussions on Gramma’s mental illness. It is puzzling to us. It makes no sense to us that one person in a family, randomly, out of no where, has a mental illness that incapacitates them so severely that they’re admitted to an insane asylum, never to be released and basically never to be heard from again. Florence was admitted on a WARRANT! That means a judge’s signature was required. What happened?

[Note: March 7, 2023 – I emailed Ontario Archives to asked where I might be able to access this warrant.]

Manic Depressive Psychosis; Manic

That is the diagnosis given in the documentation from St. Thomas Mental Hospital. If Gramma’s was Bipolar (Manic Depressive), then likely this would have shown up in other members of the family. While there’s a little depression in all of us, nothing has revealed itself to the tragic effects that my grandmother suffered. This is wrong.

What I’ve since learned…

A Google search and information from the CAMH website revealed that 80% of people with bipolar disease inherit it from a first-degree relative like a parent.  But there’s only a 10% chance you’ll inherit it.  In other words, there’s a 90% chance the children will not inherit the disease.  Also some people don’t inherit the disease at all – they develop it after something traumatic, like the death of a loved one, a financial crisis, or other major life event.  

Inherited bipolarism peaks between the ages of 15-25.  Only using the documentation I was able to see, and piecing together GG’s life, knowing her children and grandchildren, I’ve come to the conclusion that GG did not inherit manic depression – she developed it after the move from Endicott, NY to Widdifield Township, Ontario at the age of 30, long after her children were born.  For this reason, I also conclude that bipolar disease was not genetically passed on to her children or her grandchildren.

So I can only conclude that, in her case, it was not genetic and therefore it was either societal or triggered by an event.

If this indeed was her true disease, she would have been showing symptoms for years and by the time she reached her early 20’s, she was in full blown Manic Depression. We know nothing about her before she boarded the S. S. Metagama except her birth date and family names. There is no one alive today who actually knew her at all.

Could her life after she landed in Canada all be signs of a woman in a manic crisis: leaving her England, leaving Canada, the series of job changes, a quick marriage. Imagine an English woman meets an Estonian man who can barely speak English. They have a whirlwind romance? And get married a few months later. Why so quick? What was the rush?

Extenuating Circumstances

As I’ve said in other postings on the website, I am convinced that my grandmother left a daughter behind in London (Phyllis Vera Peters). Maybe not so much anymore. More than likely Phyllis was Ellen’s child. Why would Gramma named one child Phyllis Vera and another Joan Vera – seems weird.

Grampa’s Army Medical Logs

I remember reading (many years ago) about a 18th century village, in Europe I think, where most of the residents were being diagnosed with mental illnesses and its was eventually discovered that the grain they were buying to make flour was moldy. I wondered in my mind if Gramma had somehow began ingesting something that caused her to deteriorate.

Seemingly unrelated, we got our hands on Grampa’s detailed army records. It was somewhat surprizing that Grampa’s army medical logs included his repeated bouts with syphilis. In fact he was treated THREE times for syphilis and gonorrhea. Although there is no cure for syphilis, the remedy at the time was mercury. Once syphilis is in your body, you have it. And it can go latent for years, then pop up again.

More Extenuating Circumstances

So now I’m thinking, what if Grampa’s syphilis recurred after the birth of their three children. I’m not sure if “recurred” is the right word here. Syphillis went dormant. Unknowingly, he passes this onto Gramma. He had to have known. He would have been told in no uncertain terms that he was contagious, or the army medical doctors lied to him and told him he was cured. The only “cure” for sypillis at the time was salvarsan which is not mentioned once in his medical records.

They are in Endicott and Grampa is working for the best company, the Endicott Tannery and Shoe Company. He’s been trying very hard to get his Naturalization Papers finalized and then…. his application expires and he suddenly pulls his whole family back to Canada. Is it possible that because he “knew” how to treat the syphilis, that he acquired mercury and BOTH Gramma and Grampa were medicating themselves? Mercury poisoning can make you crazy and would have likely contributed to terrible rows between them.

A Miscarriage Perhaps?

Aunt Jean once revealed that she strongly believed that her mother had had a miscarriage and that had lead to severe post-partum depression.

Mercury poisoning causes miscarriages.

Is it possible that because Florence was a British Subject and Phyllis was a British Subject, it was much easier to bring Phyllis to Canada, than to the USA? Phyllis was born in 1914, so in 1928, Phyllis was 14. Age of majority in England at that time was 21.

Is it possible that Grampa, medicating himself with mercury, began to unravel? After all, if a small amount works well, more will work better. Perhaps there were heated arguments about Phyllis joining the family and how Grampa couldn’t afford another mouth to feed.

When Gramma was admitted to hospital in Toronto, Grampa would likely NOT have divulged that they had syphilis and had been taking mercury. So Gramma’s now in the hospital, and doctors have no idea that she’s suffering from mercury poisoning OR … Grampa did tell the doctors, and they continue to treat her with mercury.

If Grampa continued to medicate himself with mercury, perhaps its the mercury poisoning that contributed to his decision to begin sleeping with the domestic that social services brought into his home to look after his three small children. Then of course, Mary Morrison, needed a home for herself and her two children. She likely did everything she could to keep herself in Grampa’s home.

Food Basics now have green opaque produce bags that many consumers THINK are composable. One gentleman actually told me he loves to use them because he reuses them with his green waste. OMG!!

Also today I saw a woman put a mesh bag of onions into a green produce bag – WHY?? Also bananas – what are they protecting themselves from? The peel comes off – same with oranges. And things that you don’t peel, you wash before you eat.

Its so frustrating going grocery shopping. I walk around with my cell phone, posting and bitching on Facebook.

LOL!

Mom had and recovered from Colon Cancer when she was in her late 70’s. Her doctor found her cancer during a colonoscopy and “rushed” her (within days I think) to the operating table and removed a big part of her colon. Because the doctor “got it all”, Mom didn’t need to go through chemo or radiation. The evidence of her operation was one HUGE scar on her abdomen. She went on to live to a ripe old age of 92.

After 1993, when Mom was diagnosed, we (her children) were all told to begin getting routine colonoscopies.

Since then, I’ve had many. My first one was the most horrendous experience of my life. I decided I would be the smartest person by scheduling my first colonoscopy and my first mammogram on the same day. My goodness, how could I take TWO days off work for stupid medical purposes!! And deciding NOT to get sedation for the colonoscopy was my 2nd BIG HUGE mistake. But I digress…

Every colonoscopy I’ve had which were every 3 years, then every 5, the doctor found pre-cancerous polyps. EVERY TIME. Today, December 2022, I had my latest colonoscopy and the doctor found NONE.

What’s with that?! What happened?

Was the doctor in a hurry? She check the box “Excellent” for prep. The post-report shows she got around EVERY corner, right around to the “end of the line” – and she found NOTHING!

What changed?

Thinking… looking back on the last 5 years, there’s a few things I’ve changed but ONLY in my diet.

• I don’t drink cow’s milk anymore, only soy beverage
• I snack on nuts (almonds, walnuts, pastitsios)
• I don’t eat red meat (only Costco meatballs occasionally)

Ever since I was little, I loved old things.  From the days of exploring my Great-Aunt’s abandoned and dilapidated home across the country road from our farm, I can remember holding viewer cards and envisioning myself as a long dead relative looking at them with amazement.

Old Eaton’s catalogues with pictures of corsettes and bustles grabbed my attention as I thought of myself as a consumer from the late 1800’s.

Continue reading “Challenges of Genealogy”