Originally Posted by Rochard

My father died when I was nine months old and I had little contact with my father's side of the family. When I was thirty-five or so my grandmother died, and they asked me to fly home for the funeral. I didn't know her well, but it had been a long time since I had been "home" to New Jersey so I went. I met the family historian, who also teaches genealogy at a local college. I was stunned when I discovered I was Irish. I had no idea.

In hindsight, it makes perfect sense.