Our Polish Family

Carol’s maternal grandfather, Anthony Wojnar, immigrated to America from Poland in 1911. The Ellis Island records say he took the Kaiserin Auguste Victoria ship via Hamburg and landed in New York on August 26th. He was 19 years old.

His sister, Julia, remained in Poland in their ancestral village of Osiek Jasielski. So the two branches of the family grew on in different countries. 

There has been some contact through the years, primarily between Carol’s Aunt Jeannette Bury. She is currently in her 90s, but has been in touch with the Polish side of the family through letters, phone calls and she even visited some years ago. 

Great Aunt Julia died some years ago, but Carol reached out to her son, Albin Wierdak who is still living in the same village, and we were subsequently invited to spend a lovely Sunday with our relatives in the home village of Osiek Jasielski.

It. Was. Delightful!

When traveling, it is rare to have authentic relationship experiences. 

I have most often gotten something of the “realness” of people when visiting a church service, or a sporting event. I have lots of thoughts on this, so maybe I’ll do a separate blog post on that in the future. 

But, this visit was something else entirely. 

We were spending the whole day with people who were essentially strangers, with different languages and customs from us … and yet we were connected through a shared lineage. 

So strangers … but only for like a second, because … family. 

While Great Uncle Albin and Aunt Stasia did not speak much English, their granddaughter Zuzanna and another relative Frank, who had spent time in the US, came to help translate. There were other children and grandchildren present with varying degrees of mastery in English, but we, of course, knew no Polish. But between our translators and excessive use of Google Translate, we got by. 

It was good. So good.

We poured over family trees and photographs. 

We shared a meal, a veritable Polish feast!

Sour soup, pork and potatoes, pierogis, sausages and so much more. And like a true Polish family, the food just kept coming! 

The kids played together with no worries about understanding each other. The universal languages of soccer, swings and Minecraft transcending all communication barriers. 

Then the Wierdak family took us on a walk around the old family grounds. We visited the old church, and then the new church, and on to the graveyard where a number of family members were buried, including Great Aunt Julia as well as the mother of Anthony (Carol's Grandfather) and Julia.

Later, we called my niece, Audrey Newcombe, to wish her a "Happy 14th Birthday" and to do the traditional singing of “Sto Lat.” Little did we know that there was much more to the song than we had been doing. 

And then we sat in chairs in the backyard, just enjoying the warm sun and the warmer company. 

The chatter grew less excitable, but more comfortable. 

We used Google Translate less, despite any actual progress in either Polish or English mastery. Awkwardness gone, we just spoke in our own language and somehow we understood the heart of the other. 

I’m pretty sure we covered everything politics and religion and, of course, like all families, we successfully solved all the world’s problems.

And then it was time to go. 

It took as much time as it does in the US among families of Eastern European descent, which is no less than one hour. 

Hugs, cheek kisses, another hug. 

Presents now! Let’s hug!

Who wants more food? I'll pack it for the road! Quick side squeeze.

Who wants some chocolate, are we hugging again? 

Yes. Yes we are. 

Because, family!