Our individual heritage fascinates most of us. We are interested in our ancestors, in where they lived, in which wars they fought, and in how they arrived at their present location.

More and more people are working on their family trees and histories. After all, if we do not capture and organize the information now, it could be lost for future generations. A guided tour though some of the more useful Internet sites should help you begin or continue the task of unraveling your story.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No." I only knew that she responded because I saw her lips move before she turned away and stared out the window.

"It's obvious that something is wrong. Would you please tell me?" I asked, annoyance tightening my jaw.

After two more attempts to pull the source of her displeasure out for inspection, she relented. "You're so mean to people. You don't give them a chance."

This past holiday season, two families lost their matriarchs, women who had been heading their families both spiritually and emotionally for seven decades. One family was mine, and our matriarch was Ethel Mandeville. The other was the Disney family, who lost Lillian Bounds Disney. My family is one you have never heard of, and the other has a name that brings a dozen or more images to mind. Still, these women ran their families in very similar ways and faced many of the same trials.

To all my dear sons and daughters of mothers,

The descriptions friends give me of my trials in seeking respite from a house full of two active children are sometimes amusing to me. Yes, they certainly keep my hopping. But you know that I love every moment of them. And as someone once said, "I honor their every step." You cannot have an inkling of the joy that your children can give you until you have gone through the nine months of labor, borne them, and raised them. (Yes, I know labor doesn't last nine months, but pregnancy, especially in my case, was very hard work.)