I have always been interested in family history. My mother had a wall of old family pictures, and it took me ages to learn how I was connected to all of those people and what their names were.
When I was twelve, I learned my mother had been adopted and that intensified my interest, culminating in finding her sister, who had been adopted to another family, twenty years later.
And what could be more intriguing, as a kid, than to learn some old family story that you were never supposed to hear?
I became interested in the history of my family and, later, of my husband’s family as well. Who knows if our sons will care, but they may. Or their children might.