Who Am I, Really?

Perhaps that should read, 'Where Do I Come From?'  Depending upon your perspective it might mean different things.

As I shared in my son's wedding 2 weeks ago, it brought me to a point where thoughts of the past and of the future started firing those dormant neurons.  My status changed as far as my son goes.  I am no longer, and should not be, the one he tells all his troubles to.  Maybe I can listen, but sometimes a Mom has to take a backseat and tell her children to talk it over with their spouse.

I knew my son had a truly special woman in his life when he called me one day and said that this woman had gone with him somewhere that I had always gone with him.  At that moment, I knew that I had to let go even more.

So, what does this have to do with who I am?  I have been thinking about all that goes into making up each individual.  We are the sum of our DNA combination and all of our experiences.  Our DNA remains unchanged, barring some unforeseen chemical or nuclear exposure, but our experiences continuously mold and change our perspective.

So what goes into making up my DNA?  Legend has it (I can use the word legend because I am old enough), anyway, legend has it that I am part Cherokee on my mother's side and Polish on my father's side.  There are sprinklings of this, that and the other thrown in but the majority is simple.

I was first exposed to ridicule for even mentioning that I was part Cherokee in the second grade.  While standing in line, one of the boys in class decided to run around me making whooping noises and laughing about my heritage.  We were in a rather diverse area and had all kinds of nationalities in the classroom.  They came from Peru, Japan, Mexico and other places.  They were Jewish, Catholic and Protestant.  For some reason we all seemed to get along, with the rare exception.

The Polish part was different.  I actually did a class report in the 4th grade on Poland.  All I had to do was ask the Polish Embassy in Washington, DC for information and they sent me a rather large packet.  No one made any nasty comments about the Polish part of me.  It was just another student giving a report.

As I grew into adulthood when peers found out I was Polish, they told me all the nasty little Polish jokes.  My ex-husband took a particularly dim view of my heritage.  He was in the Army and after we married, he was stationed in Lawton.  After several months, I moved to Lawton with him.

We were still newlyweds and the glow was still fresh.  One evening as we sat in the local bar with friends, one of them starting telling Polish jokes.  I managed to finish all the punch lines and gave them some jokes they had not heard.

Someone asked, "Where'd you learn all those jokes?  Ya got a book or somethin'?"

"No," I said casually, "I'm part Polish?"

My husband piped in rather quickly, "No she's not!"

I could tell from the tone of his voice that something was wrong, so I quit talking about being Polish and quite telling Polish jokes.

When we left the bar, he talked to me about my revelation.

"Why did you say you were Polish?"

"Because, I am."

"But you didn't tell me before we got married."

"I didn't think it was necessary.  It just never came up."

"Okay, but don't ever tell anyone again that you are Polish.  I mean it.  Don't tell anyone."

We dropped it.  It was never mentioned again and that glow.  That glow was gone.  That glow never returned.  I was still Polish and now I understood that he was still a jerk.  He was a jerk before we married.  He was a jerk after we married and he would continue to be a jerk after I was gone.

Who knows what else is contained in the genetic makeup.  There are times when I wonder just how much Cherokee is within this earthly frame.  Just as there are times that I wonder if my grandfather actually was Jewish as my mother suspected.  It would explain a great deal about why I have always felt an affinity for the Jewish people.

There is nothing that I might find out that would bother me, but it might bother others.  If I had the money to have that genetic blood test done, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Don't you know that we all came from the same genetic history anyway?  I believe in Creation by God Almighty.  Having that belief makes me realize that there is virtually no difference in all of humanity.  Our differences arise from what we are taught and our experiences, nothing more.

It would be a hoot to know exactly where those branches in my family tree came from, but it really is not necessary because it won't change who I have become.

Or would it?