McDowall (Also MacDowall?)

Its funny that life can be so negative and then you wake up one day and good news begins to trickle in. Since I've gotten back from Kansas I have experienced a lot of hope and good news. Its been exhilerating.

My good news from today: I have traced my family (on my father's side) to 1684, when my 7Great-Grandfather, Andrew McDowall was born in Penninghame, Wigtonshire, Scotland. Oh yeah people...I'm flipping my lid here. His 3Great-Grandaughter married a Hennis (in the USA). That man, Lewis Franklin Hennis, was my Great-Great-Grandfather.

Granted, this is only my father's side of things. I have my mother's family information (also traced back to Scotland as its origin) somewhere. I have moved 3 times since I recieved the packet from an Uncle. I'm not sure where it is, but now that I'm older its killing me that I don't know where it is.

I would give anything to know more about the McDowalls - including whether or not they were MacDowell's (which have an interesting history). These are the times that I absolutely hate living so far away from 'home'. And...yes...Scotland has and always will feel 100% like my home - where I really belong.
I can not explain it. I know there are lots of people who are infatuated by certain places and I am aware that citizens of those certain places look at those people as posers.
I am NOT one of those people. This is not an infatuation. In all honesty, Scotland is my breath and life. It courses through my blood. I dream of it...and see pictures of certain places later and realize that it is EXACTLY the way I dreamed it. I am particularly drawn to Glencoe and the Ben Nevis. My lifelong dream was to get married on Kilt Rock, Isle of Skye.
For as long as I can remember, nothing has made me cry more than pictures/people/music from my home. One of my proudest moments in life (next to my children being born of course): Graduation from Highland Comm. College in Kansas. The particular moment happened while walking from one building to another to make our grand entrance. We were led by 2 Pipers and a drummer as they played the Scottish National Anthem. It was only a small comm. college in Kansas, but I thought my heart would burst at that moment.
Some people laugh at me, some shake their heads....I am beyond the point of caring. I know who I am....do they?

For anyone who has been born and raised in Scotland, who still carries their family name, who can trace their line as far back as possible: Please do not see me as any less of a Scot than you may be. I do not feel any less Scottish because my ancestors came to America to seek a better life, to escape British control, or whatever reason they chose. It is better to be a Scot with American blood than to be Scot who could care less where they came from - who does not feel the passion and history in the ground beneath their feet, and takes everything they see for granted. You have my history - you have my culture - you have my ancient buildings...for me it is only in my heart.

Now I'm crying...yet my words have dried up. There is so much I'd like to say...