An old piece of my own family history…
Charles Foster my great, great, great grandfather (yes, he was that great) suffered a childhood of chilling abuse. And here stands his house. What a foundation for a family of storytellers.
This is our family home. The family that runs in my blood through my mother’s side of the tree. Curses and gifts intermingle, don’t they? When I looked upon this house I knew I was home. I could have stayed for hours listening to the spirits moving the tall grass. I could have stayed for days seeing out of the corner of my eye a young, strong Charles Foster building this house for his mother.
If I’m remembering right, the curse was liquor. Daniel Foster was a cooper (barrel- maker) who couldn’t support his family. By the time Charles was six (in 1815) he was sent off to live and work for others, first a Mr. Clemens–the idea was…
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One response to “Generational Curses”
This is a horrific story, more so because we know it’s true. I’m always amazed at the number of ways that those in power abuse their position, especially the way people injure children and those who are otherwise helpless. That people survive such horrendous treatment is not a reason to let it happen again – to anyone. And in the end, Clemens showed himself for what he really was – a total coward.
My heart goes out to your many times great grandfather, Adrienne, and to you.