As the bells toll and the fireworks are popping off, some people might dread that which is to come in a few hours. Namely, the Relative Fight Fest.That occasion when everyone gathers together, tensions mount and you begin to understand within seconds why it is that you normally don’t hang out, unless a “family occasion”…
Category: Of Families, Relatives and Allies
Ode to a Lost Friendship Polish Style II
Click here for Part I The thing with broken kids and kids from broken homes, we always recognize each other. What we do with that information is one thing. But there really is an invisible bond, accessible via the subtlest of signals that brings us kids together. Perhaps Babette was broken, too, but that didn’t…
Ode to a Lost Friendship Polish Style I
He came to me fully grown as a seven-year-old boy about to turn eight, so that’s how I always saw him, as the boy who lived below us in my building and was a year and a month younger than me. There were three of us on our side of the building, so that there…
The Cynical Non-Pole-With-Polish-Roots Observes Preparations for the Next Polish Event and Provides Her Opinion
It’s that time of the year again, where spring cleaning coincides with First Communion prep, embedded into attendance at church, last minute shopping and that final, mad desperate rush for presents. It’s not just about the family being together, it’s also about being seen – at church, in the neighborhood and perhaps most importantly at…
Tales of the Polish Relatives: my grandfather (and a little bit of my mother’s mother too)
My grandfather was a deeply religious man, who had one final semester left at the seminary before he met my grandmother and decided that what God really wanted for him was to create a family and a life with the beautiful blonde peasant girl he saw. This is according to my mother and I will…
More Tales from the Polish Relatives: wujek Marian
The person who did stay in my mind, for a long time, was ciocia Basia’s husband, wujek Marian. Wujek Marian had married into the family (obviously) and when I first met him at the age of eleven I was scared of his dog. As an aside, before I discovered that I’m somewhat of a dog…
Unraveling the Mystery of the Polish Relatives: ciocia Basia
If I held off writing about her it’s (mainly) because she is the one I interacted with the least. She was my mother’s first sister (the third-born) and my mother hated her guts. My mementoes of her were admittedly vague. Apparently we’d first met when I was two and she joined forces with me and…
NYE in the Village
The village hits different when you come for a visit, and when it’s on your own terms. Or when you jump at the suggestion to just step away and take some quiet time in a village so remote even local Poles tend to mispronounce it. Normally villages aren’t my thing, especially not on big days,…
Unraveling the Mystery of the Polish Relatives: ciocia Magda part I
Ciocia* Magda was my mom’s youngest sister, and I met her (perhaps) properly when I was seven. At least that’s when I remember her properly. Family history says she stayed with us for two years but I can’t say if being seven was the start, the end or fell somewhere in between. I remember a…
Unraveling the Mystery of the Polish Relatives: wujek Zbyszek part II
I realized that he was more typical of the average, well educated Polish male than atypical: acutely aware of his status and how it affected others in full knowledge of the fact that the woman they’d chosen to bear their children would count her blessings of having landed such a fine specimen of a man, keep her mouth firmly shut and do the best to raise and maintain a family unit lest the neighbors, church and assorted acquaintances, relatives and friends get a chance to list all her shortcomings (and by extension also those of her family), a feat that would happen anyway, regardless of how perfect she aimed to be.
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