I was meditating this morning, and contemplating the serendipity (or perhaps synchronicity?) of being in a place where I would learn much that I did not know about myself, all because we happen to be house and cat sitting at a particular time, in a particular place in the universe. John and I both have a lifelong love for animals, and as a former vet tech, sits are easily booked. Pets posses no ego. When they are properly cared for, comfortable and loved, they are the pure embodiment of love themselves.
I especially love sitting for cats. Their presence is gentle and calming. Their serenity and ability to nap inspires me. So once we've gotten to know each other and settle down, I tend to drift into their energy, and meditation becomes easy.
So while sitting for these particular felines, John and I had the occasion to attend the Highland Games, something we would not have normally done had the Games been held nearer to home. It was just something to do. Feeling confident that the cats held no interest in coming along, we set off to Lincoln, NH for a day of fun in the mountains. Along the way, I casually mentioned that my grandmother had been born in Glasgow, Scotland, and was orphaned at the age of 15 during her voyage to America. (Fortunately, she had kin in the US and was cared for here). So a new imperative had been set. We would seek out the Robertson clan at the Games.
As the passenger, I was able to spend some time during the ride researching the agenda for the Games and was disappointed to see that the Robertson clan was not represented as many other clans were, each with their own display tent. Digging a little further, though, I discovered that the Robertsons were identified as Clan Donnachaidh, the Scottish Gaelic name, and was indeed represented!
When we arrived and finally found the tent for Clan Donnachaidh, the first thing I asked was how to pronounce the name. (It's Donna-Key for anyone who is interested). Once I shared my relatively immediate connection directly to Scotland, I was welcomed into the fold. And then I began to learn.
It turns out the Robertsons are the clan having the most widely documented lineage in Scottish history, and the Scots are darn good at documenting things. The Donnachaidh name arises out of "Children of Duncan", referring to "Stout Duncan", whom I envision as a rather large man we would refer to these days as "obese". In fact, I struggle to rid my head of the image of Mike Myers' "Fat Bastard" character. Duncan's great-grandson was named Robert. There's a convoluted story about uprisings and a murdered King, the perpetrators of which were tracked down and brought to justice by Robert, who was rewarded with a very large land gift which is now part of Cairngorms National Park. Having gained fame and notoriety, his children going forth were named "Robertsons". The history goes on with various wars, uprisings, allegiances and betrayals.
I was enchanted. What struck me most, though, was the fact that these events began sometime in the 1300s! And the family tree grows from there. I did a little math... and guessed a conservative 3 generations per hundred years, and a very conservative 3 children per marriage (my grandmother was one of 13!) . So the math can be dicey, considering families bearing more children to compensate for a higher mortality rate, and trysts occurring without the benefit of marriage, or outside the marriage, widowhood, remarriage, and/or blatant lies in the family record.
Let's see... Seven centuries, each having 3 generations, that's 21 generations. Starting from the beginning, 3 children, each growing up and bearing 3 children apiece, that's 9 right there. These 9 grow up and bear 3 children apiece, and so on, and so on, and so on. Yep, just under 10.5 billion. Not million. BILLION. I can see old Duncan MacFatboy congratulating himself as I write this. Duncan's day of reckoning may be upon us, though, as the clan has recently undertaken a DNA ancestry project which will help to more clearly define the lineage.
For now, here I am, one of 10.5 billion Robertsons gracing the earth with their presence one time or another these past 700 years, having been in just the right place in the universe at just the right time, for the reason of caring for two terrific cats and their home, just now learning about my heritage. On a day when we expected no more than to be entertained by burly men in skirts heaving logs and boulders at one another, I instead gained much much more. We will continue to house and pet sit throughout the world, sharing our love for animals and travel to new places, learning new things about the world and about ourselves. Suddenly, though, Scotland has jumped to the top of my list.
Serendipity? Synchronicity? Still working on it.
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