Sunday, June 25, 2017

My Ancestry DNA

Ever since I was a little boy, I have been in awe of the Native Americans and have always felt like I was somehow part of them.  I study their culture, read Native American authors, attend powwows, and listen frequently to Native American music. Anyone who knows me knows it’s my desire to be of Native American descent.

Growing up I was always told on my mother’s side I’m Irish, and on my father’s side I’m Italian.  There didn’t seem to be anywhere where the Native American could fit in.

So, when I heard that was offering DNA tests to determine one’s heritage, I sent for the kit.  Here was my one chance to find Native American in my DNA. I wasn’t looking to be 55% Native American. All I wanted was to be 10% or maybe 26% Native American. That’s not asking too much of my DNA, is it?

I remember fondly the day (a sunny Sunday afternoon) when I spit saliva in the tube to capture my DNA. While spitting I imagined all the possibilities… and convinced myself that one of my grandmothers hooked up with a Native American and had a love child who turned out to be either my mother or my father.  As wild as that thought was, I held on hoping… and with that hope tucked deep inside my heart I walked to the nearest mailbox to mail my spit to the DNA lab.

After nearly eight torturous weeks of waiting, the email arrived with a link to my ancestry DNA results.

I was immediately filled with excitement and a touch of anxiety. Just a click away would reveal who I am and where I come from.  

I closed my eyes and clicked the link, and after a moment of quick prayers, I opened my eyes and this is what I saw: Not one iota of Native American in my DNA!

After the wave of dizzying disappointment ran its course, I looked closely at the results and saw that I do have more than just Irish and Italian in my DNA. I’m also Greek and Iberian Peninsula and European Jew and Middle Eastern, too. There’s also a tad Finish/Russian in me and a minute bit of British and Dutch.

I’m a mongrel pup… a little bit of this and a little bit of that… a sort of man of the people... and that suits me fine.   

As for the Native American that’s not in me, I have decided that in a previous lifetime I was indeed a Native American.  Maybe a Cree or a Navajo or a Hopi or a Pima or a Cherokee.

And to prove it, I will soon participate in a past-life regression to find out what tribe and when.

I am determined to find my Native America connection.

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