The Two Marys

We've been busy moving to Santa Rosa and downsizing, which verges on the impossible. I have been coming across lost items. When I was a child, I knew my great-grandmother, Mary Berry, which means I can remember my granddaughter's great-great-great grandmother. That seems odd.  I had always believed that Mary Berry came over from Ireland on the boat. But in my packing and sorting I came across a Xerox of a newspaper article on Mary Berry's death in Des Moines, and I realized I had conflated two Mary Berrys. The one who came over on the boat was the mother of the Mary Berry I had known. The original Mary had arrived here in 1865. The Mary my mother and father and I had believed was an Irish immigrant was actually the daughter of an immigrant, and all of our family history is now on tilt.