We all learned just this past week that a jaw bone was found in Israel which shows us that the person who's jaw bone it is, migrated from Africa 40,000 years earlier than previously thought.
The lead anthropologist said, "The entire narrative of evolution of Homo sapiens must be pushed back by at least 100,000 - 200,000 years."
So, this was a reminder that, among other things, we all came from Africa at some point.
However, this is not what's been most controversial about the popularity of us getting our DNA tested. What's causing problems for some of us is learning that our dad really isn't our dad at all. The neighbor down the street is our dad. (This was addressed in the "Ask Amy" column yesterday.) Since I and my son have had our DNAs tested, we've learned a couple of similar distant family secrets.
Should we share them with other family members or not? I say "No!"
Family linage is complicated and some families (like my family of origin) are big old secret keepers. And I've noticed that some distant relatives that my son has contacted have a different memory than I do about who was married to whom, etc. This can cause problems, especially when your mother was one of 13 children, as mine was.
There is a song that is a cautionary tale regarding getting your DNA done and contacting long lost relatives. If you want to listen to it look up the version by Willie Nelson. It's the best. Or you can just ask me to sing it for you because I know it by heart. Below are some of the lyrics. It's a very long song. Good luck with your family discoveries.
I'M MY OWN GRANDPA
Now many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow, who was pretty as can be
This widow had a grown-up daughter
Who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her, and soon they too were wed
This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life
Now my daughter was my mother
Cause she was my father's wife
And to complicate the matter
Even though it brought my joy
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he were my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grown up daughter, who was of course, my stepmother
Oh, I'm my own grandpa
I'm my own grandpa
It sounds funny I know but it really is so
I'm my own grandpa
***
