Happiness. It's relative.
Every few weeks, Ancestry tells me that there is a new match, a person somewhere, usually in Michigan, who is the son of the daughter who was second cousin to an aunt married a second time to her sister-in-law’s brother and I sometimes look to see if they look like anyone I know but they never do and then I see that there were thousands of possible matches so no reason to think some long lost relative, some brother my father never divulged, a black sheep wandered off would suddenly appear to claim me as kin, the searchers are all just throwing handfuls of darts at a big bullseye, hoping to find somebody, anybody to make their investment in Ancestry worthwhile beyond knowing that your people came from northern Europe and settled in New York and then Ohio before trudging up to Michigan and apparently proliferating in dramatic and startling ways that would later puzzle and confound their descendants.
There does come that point when you are told you must be related to Fred Brown’s prize cow who lived out its life in the southeast field of a small farm somewhere north of Texas… I have unsubscribed from all genealogy sites. I know enough.
interesting, and I imagine that’s how it plays out most of the time