Of #Family Trees, Swell #Funerals, and South Side #Chicago. #humor

Barb Taub

I was trying to come up with a good intro for Judith Barrow’s incredible generational family series about the Howarth clan. The problem, I realized, is that I have a genetic deficiency when it comes to comprehending multiple successive generations of a family.
It’s my family’s fault. I remember one of my sisters looking at the proofs for our family holiday photos—two parents surrounded by their ten children—and musing, “Rabbits. I just keep thinking about rabbits…” It wasn’t just us either: each of my parents came with similar double-digit siblings, most of whom also overachieved when it came to numbers of progeny. When I tried to do a family tree to mark their 50th wedding anniversary, I only got as far as my parents’ generation and their offspring. Then I had to stop because our “tree” looked more like invasive ground cover, or maybe kudzu on steroids. 

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2 thoughts on “Of #Family Trees, Swell #Funerals, and South Side #Chicago. #humor

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