Loveprints.
Leaving more love behind than existed before you. Covering someone in love. Creating a thing of love for others. Being the add to for any situation. Cause elevation by your actions.
My name. My father. My family. My life.
That took a lot to type. This takes a lot to type. My eyes water at the very thought of typing this. Sharing this is mandatory, but difficult. It is a conversation about something so great and grand that I can’t possible capture its questions and answers in one sitting. I can’t possible tell the story of this and get to the truths and non-truths, so I am going to try and keep this simple. I am going to try and keep this plain. First of all, thank you to my wife. She made this happen. Thank you, ancestry and its investigators. Thank you, family.
My name is Pearson. It was given to me by my mother. Wrap your brain around that. A name was given to me. I accepted it as truth. I accepted it as everything. I would take this truth into the world as an absolute. I would be called by it for all of my days, and almost importantly, I answered to it. I would carry the Pearson name around as an introduction detail, a statement of who I was, a description of my history, and the crown of my actions on this planet. Pearson. It speaks volumes. It tells of origin and age, it tells of belonging and possession, it tells of all people that share that name.
What if I was wrong? What if my mother was wrong? What if I was given a name that did not belong to me? What if that name was a lie? What if that name simply wasn’t true? What if the name wasn’t mine?
What happened is a common tale in this land or ours. A name is given and accepted. None of us were around to choose our name. None of us had a say so. We were stuck with what was given. In some parts of our country, history has dictated that those names can never be right. They can never be true. They are given names rather than the actual name of your people. Your actual people. Those you share DNA with. Those who come from where you come from. Those who come from who you come from. Some of us have no way of knowing our name. This country made sure of that.
What if the truth is never told? What if secrets took priority over truth? What if science was ignored until it can’t be ignored any longer?
My father. He should give me his name. My mother should make sure of that. He should make sure of that. He made me. He chose for me to be here. None of us chose to be here. Someone else did that for us. I was not around to know why he didn’t. I was not around to know why he didn’t. I can be upset. I can be mad. I can be bitter. I choose to be present. I am here.
My family. They re a gift. They are a blessing. More common strands of life, more common strands of experiences and shared moments. More common strands of love wrapped up in love tied up with love. None of us chose one another. We just exist for each other whether we know it or not.
My life. Each day is an opportunity. Each day has knowledge. Each day has lessons. Each day feeds me. Each day informs, forms, and recreates me. Each thing purposeful. Each thing a victory. I am a puzzle of 365 pieces, 55 years long, each one its own picture but a part of a whole bigger picture.
I have spent time recently trying to answer questions that I did not know need answering. I have found out that I was missing people who I never knew existed. I have recognized holes in me that I had no idea existed that already had perfect pieces to put in place. I had love to give and get while believing that I had given and gotten all of the love I could possible manage. My heart has been filled my blood and love, even after I thought I had lived with a heart full of blood and love all along. I have found faces that match mine, smiles that match mine, hearts that beat like mine, and lives that were perfectly imperfect like mine. I have found souls like mine, and more importantly, love like mine.
I have been given more people to love. I have been given more people to love me. I have connected dots that were invisible to me, dots that evaded me, dots that were my dots, waiting to be seen, waiting to be connected. I have been blessed with good, beautiful people.
I recognized that my name is whatever I decide to answer to. I realized that my father created me. I accept that my life is so much better than I could ever dream, even when it was always better than I could ever dream. I am standing proudly in my space. I am loved. I am love. That’s who I am.
I have several families. Some chosen. Some by experience. Some by DNA. All by love. What an amazing world we live in.
I went to sleep one day with 3 brothers and 4 sisters. I woke up with more of each. I could not be any prouder. I now know why my name is, what my name is, who my father is, and what my life means.
I don’t know about you, but I am going to sit here and applaud the universe. I am going to thank God. I am going to praise this life of mine. I am going to celebrate this added love in my life. I am going to celebrate each day with them.
Call me whatever name you want. They call me family. They call me brother, uncle, and cousin. I will answer because its true, and its love.
Covered in love. That’s a LovePrint.
