There was the largest fireplace I’d ever seen, flanked by the coziest couches imaginable. Near them stood my favorite object in the entire house: a towering, four-foot-tall revolving globe. It was bigger than I was at the time, and I would spin it with eager anticipation, closing my eyes before stopping it at a random spot. Then, I’d rush to Aunt Peg, thinking about that faraway location—Zanzibar, Timbuktu, Antarctica, Mount Kosciuszko, Papua New Guinea—and ask if she had ever been there. More often than not, she had, and she would regale me with incredible stories of her adventures as she kept an eye on dinner preparations.
Some who wander are not lost.
I wrote to her often and visited whenever I could. I didn’t just want to live a life like hers; I wanted to go further—to immerse myself in the cultures, the people, the food, and the traditions of the places I visited. One day, she told me I was to be the next Keeper of the family history. Shortly after, she began sending me copies of the family’s historical records. I was thrilled to dive into the stories of the Heydeckers who came before me, but I also felt a strong pull to document the lives and experiences of those around me who had lived long, rich lives.
Learning about your family’s history is a humbling experience that can also fill you with pride. Our lineage includes descendants of kings, women who were the sisters of America’s founding fathers, men who fought in the Revolutionary War, and remarkably successful individuals, but it also holds tales of many humble artisans—rope makers, paper makers, even those who narrowly avoided trouble with the law. Some faced unimaginable tragedies and loss, while others rode waves of fortune to great wealth. Each story, whether triumphant or fraught with hardship, is a thread in the tapestry of who we are.
You Are Who They Were
Understanding the lives of those who came before you—the ones who braved uncharted waters and took extraordinary risks to build something new—offers a unique lens through which to view your own life and your children’s journeys. I will always hold deep gratitude for my Great Aunt Peg, who supported me unconditionally, even if it meant pushing me into experiences like attending upscale summer horse camps or becoming a debutante. Of course, I drew the line at joining a sorority (apologies, Kappa Kappa Gamma). Nor did I heed her advice about choosing an Ivy League school solely for its marriage prospects. I was never destined to become the wife of a hedge fund manager, residing in Greenwich and embracing the life of a lady who lunches. Yet, Aunt Peg somehow excelled in all of that while also embodying the qualities I so admired—her love for travel, impeccable fashion sense, passion for literature, and appreciation for the performing arts.
Thank you, Aunt Peg, for the honor of Keeper. I hope I have made you proud.
