I think about my ancestors all the time. They were people, people who fell in love, people who had pets, people who had a favorite book, people who were passionate about a specific topic, people who went through their own tragedy and suffering. Every single one of them was a person with their own unique life experiences.
And sometimes I think of the really old ones- the ones who spoke languages that are no longer spoken, who lived alongside wildlife that no longer exist, who belonged to cultures that are only known through remnants of pottery. I think of the people who saw the world when it was wilder and more beautiful.















