Overseas

   It was a moist spring day with some frost on the greens of our meadow. My father was a short man with facial hair at all times, that morning he was making pancakes for me and my sister.  Anyways it was the weekend so I didn’t have school, it was more of a relaxing morning. I was ten years old at the time and chocolate chip pancakes were my favorite as they still are. As he poured the chocolate chips into the batter sizzling on the frying pan, I asked him, “So dad, how did we get our name Lapointe?” It seemed as if he had been waiting a long time for me to ask this one particular question as he sprung immediately with an answer.

He began the story of our family name telling me how his great grandparents used to live in France. I thought wow, across the entire ocean, that’s pretty neat! He continued on the subject saying how they were living on a body of water right on the point of a coast. My father stated that people would always be asking where so and so was and everybody’s reply would be, “Oh they are out on La Pointe.” Considering it was France, the language was dominantly French at the time so in translation “la pointe” means “the point”. It all started coming together in my little ten year old brain and I realized how real and interesting that sort of was. It was a simple story that made perfect sense and that’s what made it great.

Knowing this information about the origins of my last name I began telling most of my friends and started thinking about more of my family’s past generations and their history. I realized how truly French I am and began to write a 46 page paper on the 1800’s France culture. No, Im joking, I would never do that. This newly found out information didn’t quite affect my life like this prompt may have wanted it to, but it was interesting enough to be thought about for a while.

Now knowing of my past put France as a second favorite during the Olympics for me. It also made me feel as if I had ties to France a tiny bit making me want to go visit there sometime and explore the culture first hand. Thinking of my past I suppose I would have to consider myself french of some sort. I always tell people I’m French Indian which is what I’ve been told, but being born in Maine I fill out forums saying I’m Caucasian. Things that have stuck with my family that are considered french can be the food we eat, the way some of my family members talk, and the love for others with French heritage. Although I know I am not 100% French I always seem to think I somewhat relate to those of the same past when I notice another around. It also stands as a conversation starter for myself as I can tell the same story my dad once did and see if anyone else has stories of their past generations or origins.                 

This wasn’t the only time a piece of family history brought myself a small change in my thoughts. One time my dad told me all about his father’s past including the Navy and World War II. He told me the story of my grandfather being on a ship under the Destroyer category and how he was sent off to World War II. He told me he didn’t fight long, but just the fact he went out I found really cool and interesting.

Learning about my grandfather’s history with the military I grew to respect veterans and understand what kind of work they really put into protecting our country. Finding out my grandfather served arose conversation of me possibly serving as well. I thought about it for a long time off and on wondering if it would be the route I’d want to take in the future. After further research I understood there were lots of different options in the military that aren’t just fighting in the war, instead you can be a mechanic, technician, support team, a nurse, or one of many other jobs you may not expect to be available in the military.

Seeing how my family has adjusted from living in France a long time ago to now living in a small town in Maine, it blows my brain with wonder. I wonder how many other people have a crazy historical stories about their past generations and their actions. I wonder how many other people came from France and if maybe even some of them had past generations that also knew of the Lapointes. On that topic I wonder if the Lapointes made a name for themselves in France. I wonder if someday I will make a name for the Lapointes.

Photo on Foter.com