Here we are April 12 — more than a month, 32 days to be exact — from the holiday second only to Christmas for making me feel bad. Yes, the first mother’s day ad has landed in my inbox. It’s from ancestry.com and the ad copy for a custom book they’re offering reads:
“You are part of a family with a rich history and unique tradition. You are continuing a story that is centuries in the making. What does your family name mean and where does it come from? When and how did
people sharing your name immigrate to the U.S.? What did they do and
how did they live? Our Name in History is a great way to spend time
with mom and learn about the history that brought your family together.”
Yeah? Well for my modest twig of the family tree, the story tens of thousands of years in the making, ends here. The family tree has always fascinated me. As a child I wondered during a little geneaology research for a class project what my little twig would grow into. My fascination later morphed into sadness when it became clear that I couldn’t have children. It’s the imagery I use to start my novel.
Back to the topic at hand. Now what’s my strategy going to be for shielding myself from the onslaught of mother’s day ads? Clearly I’ve got to accelerate my thinking. My inbox and the airwaves are going to be flooded very soon…
P.S. Note to self: Consult with Aunt Sassy. She has a post that gave me
a good belly laugh. I’m guessing she’ll have some great ideas.