Here is another earlier effort of mine that was on another website, now just a dim, but fond memory. It is completely overhauled as new characters stepped forward and presented themselves. I hope you enjoy it -- it was fun to visit this one again. However, I must apologize up front for the deplorable pun near the end of the story -- when I rewrote it, I changed the family name from McGee to McCoy for no real reason and it was not until the moment presented itself that I committed the sin of punning. As always, I look forward to your comments and criticisms -- please take the time to offer me input, it is invaluable.
Oh yes, this is a work of fiction, any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters exist only in the story and in my head. Enough already -- read and enjoy!
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A few years back, my younger sister, Pam caught the genealogy bug and began researching our family tree. It became a tradition at family get-togethers for Pam to regale us with her latest discoveries. Tracing back our family tree became a passion with her and she very diligently researched our past whenever she had a spare moment from taking care of her husband and their children.
It intrigued me as well, although not on the same level as it did Pam. I did help her out when I could, often accompanying my sister to various courthouses and cemeteries as she ran down facts and clues about our family. It was fun to help my younger sister out. Growing up, we'd had all the usual disagreements and conflicts between siblings and being three years older than her, I ran with a different crowd. In helping her with her research, I got to finally start knowing my sister as a person. I began to realize how smart and funny and personable my sister was. I enjoyed our time together and finally it hit me one day, we were more than brother and sister -- we had become good friends.
Pam's great moment of triumph came when she announced she had traced our family back to the mid 1870s to a married couple named Sean and Mary McCoy. She found a pre-Ellis Island record that indicated that they had journeyed to America on an old steamship called the Athena around 1874 and that they had come from Ireland, hailing from a small village in County Kildare near the city of Lendip.
Later that same year, Pam would turn thirty-seven and for her birthday, I conspired with her husband to surprise her with plane tickets to Ireland for a week's worth of further genealogical research. My sister cried like a baby and then hugged me. We planned the trip to coincide with her summer vacation at her job and for her husband to accompany her and make it a second honeymoon.
As luck would have it however, her husband, a public accountant, had to spend that week at a new tax seminar and couldn't go. At the last minute, Pam begged me to go with her on the trip so she wouldn't be alone. At forty years old, I had been divorced for three years and with no children and had over a month of vacation time built up. I hadn't had a real vacation in years and it sounded like fun. A few phone calls and we were able to book a second hotel room and get things sorted out. Our mom happily volunteered to watch Pam's kids (we all knew darn well that Grandma McCoy was going to spoil them rotten).
The first few days were a lot of fun as we toured our ancestral homeland and laughed and cut up across Ireland. I took great pleasure getting to know my sister even better and enjoyed having her on my arm as we took in the sites. I marveled secretly that my little sister had grown up into such a vibrant, funny and I'll be honest, beautiful woman.
Pam was rather short at five feet, one inch and a bit stocky, all boobs and butt as I've heard her joke more than once. Pam does have nice and sizable breasts and I have caught myself staring at them more than once, especially as she favors sweaters and blouses that are deep cut and a bit revealing. Seeing the upper halves of my sister's breasts jiggling as she strides along are not uncommon. It made me feel a little weird thinking of my little sister in sexual terms, but I would dismiss the thoughts from my mind and go on -- until they cropped up in my imagination again.
Pam's most eagerly awaited moment of the trip was her appointment with the local village priest who was going to help us look for some records on our ancestors. The father turned out to be a very old priest who insisted on being called Father Donald. We watched with interest as he went back through the parish church's records.
Finally, after perusing many pages of his documents, he gave a hurumph of satisfaction and told us, "Now here we finally have it. A Sean McCoy, born 1854, and Mary McCoy, born 1856. There is even a notation that Sean and Mary left for America in late 1873."
Pam squealed with joy as Father Donald showed us the spidery scrawl of a long dead priest who had kept the records so long ago. Pam, ever inquisitive, asked Father Donald, "Is there any mention of Mary's maiden name? I've never seen a reference to it."
The old priest looked at her oddly and said, "Dear lady, her maiden name is McCoy, just like her brother, both born to James and Deirdre McCoy."
Pam's expression was one of confusion and she replied, "No, no, no. Sean was married to Mary and they traveled to New York City where Mary gave birth to our great, great, great grandfather in 1874. They weren't brother and sister, they were husband and wife."
The priest studied my sister for a long minute before replying in a tone that implied he did not make such mistakes. "My lady, there is no confusion in these records. The Sean and Mary McCoy that departed from County Kildare in late 1853 were brother and sister. Are you sure that you found the right girl in your research? Perhaps you have been tracking the wrong McCoys."
Pam nodded vigorously and pulled a copy of a document she had found on their entry into the United States. The paperwork indicated that both were from County Kildare, Ireland, the birthdates matched up down the day of the month and there was check in the box indicating that they were married. "See, they came over together on the Athena -- a married couple, not brother and sister."
Father Donald sighed and said, "Ms. McCoy. I'm not doubting your research, but I am suggesting you consider the facts. Sean and Mary were brother and sister."
Pam was getting a little riled and I squeezed her shoulder to offer support as she said with a little heat in her voice. "But that's ridiculous! They were married and had a baby together and three more children over the years! They couldn't be brother and sister -- that would be..." Pam stopped speaking and covered her mouth. She turned and looked at me in horror before turning back to stare wordlessly at Father Donald. It took a moment for the reality of it to kick in with me as well.
Father Donald sighed and reached out and took my sister's hand. "Think nothing of it, lass. That sort of thing happens now and again. It has gone on since the beginning of time, I'm thinking, and still goes on today."
