Wednesday, 7 February 2007

Another day, another grave

A cold, frosty Wednesday morning might seem the perfect time to pull the duvet up a tad higher, snuggle down and grab a couple of hours extra sleep. For most normal people, this is of course how they might have spent today.

Not me. I found myself trudging through a municipal graveyard, hunting out the unmarked plot of my late father's younger sister, who died from tuberculosis in 1945 at the tender age of 9. I never met her. The family never really even talked about her. Yet such is the hold genealogy has come to have on me that I found myself driven, uncontrollably, to drive 180 miles to track down this small plot of earth.

Next time I get that urge, I'll try to resist. But I know already, it will be futile.

That's why GENanon exists - for people like me. And for the sad kind of people who seem to have flocked to use this travel company.

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