This time of year seems like the perfect time to reconnect with history and ancestors. I become very nostalgic during the Winter holidays.
When I was a child growing up in Massachusetts (and, for a few years, New York), we had the most fabulous holidays. I miss the possibility of snow this time of year. I miss my grandparents, who helped my dad to raise me and my sister. I miss my uncles, who were always generous.
Our family was not religious. I suppose they were fairly typical of many Massachusetts Congregational types. Church wasn't a big deal. Christmas wasn't about one of the mythological god-man archetypes, but rather about family gathering to give to one another and eat together, and just have a good time in general.
I miss eating dinner at grandma's table, enjoying grandpa's cooking, admiring my youngest uncle's latest hunting trophy, and seeing my eldest uncle during one of the few times his feet were on dry land.
Precious holiday memories put me in this nostalgic frame of mind that makes me want to reach out and touch as much history as I possibly can.