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Travelling People / Re: Wilsher blood line, Nottingham, Joseph Wilsher
« on: Sunday 14 March 21 21:16 GMT (UK) »My Mother told me she saw a coffin in the flames of the fire, she told me she saw her Mother in the coffin, her Mother told her to look into the fire and my Mam saw her own Mother in the future that was to come as real life in the dark days that they were both living, often I would have to comfort my Mother when a great darkness would envelope her in the deepest of sadness you could imagine, dark dark all encompassing darkness would surround her in a sweal of dark spirits.
When my Granmar Rebecca died my Mother was young then another Woman came into the house and my Mother when able took of and lived in a room Attic at the top of a house she was still in her teens, she would go out Hawking and making money in the end I came along there is much more but I will not speak of these times, my Mother told the story of her Mother to me, she asked and she asked people who would know true answers of who attacked her Mother for my Mother would talk of revenge but no one would give a name all that was told was that a woman was jealous of her and attacked her for like my own Mother Rebecca her Mother would sing and dance for fun, often I have seen my own Mother go up and take the mike from a singer in one of the old types of public houses that used to do those kind of things and she would sing old songs with no care in the world, if you know not of these things it is because you never saw such things but this is how life used to be, her own Mother as told to my Mother by people long ago was a Woman of great freeness who evan in death could not be chained many try and shackle that which they themselves can not be, it is true they try and destroy that which they fear for it is them who wish to bind the flower for they know not how to blossom yet they ultimately fail as this story is told, in death freedom rises through true words unknown yet they rise as the day ends, my own Mother would hold tight an old picture of her Mother and cry alone, one day I heard a noise and opened the door slowly, maybe only an inch or two, there I spied my own Mother rocking to and throw with a sorrowfull wail crying and talking to her Mother through the picture, her Mother was very handsome with golden coins in each ear, golden coin rings and golden coin broaches about her breast, all hand made, often she told me she asked who attacked her Mother now I have found out but why, what was the reason and who was the George, and why did he go in such anger to my Granmothers place and how am I related to these Smiths who through dna are related to the people I come from, I have over twenty Smiths born as Smiths in this day with great Gipsy family histories who must come from several of what they call lines, they all thoe connect to me, what does it all mean maybe one day I will find more.