I'm retired (hah!); my grandmother, Irene Jordan, gave me the genealogy bug. My mother nurtured it. My husband just shakes his head.

My dad always carried this poem with him...

I dreamt death came the other night
And Heaven's gate swung wide.
An angel with a halo bright
Ushered me inside.
And there! To my astonishment
Stood folks I'd judged and labeled
As "quite unfit", "of little worth",
And "spiritually disabled".

Indignant words rose to my lips
But never were set free,
For every face showed stunned surprise --
Not one expected me!