Do you ever wonder where you came from or what your roots
are? Would things be different if your ancestors didn’t make the decision to
move to another country?
Growing up I always knew no one was truly one hundred
percent American. I grew up in a “melting pot” of a country and when someone
asked me what my background was, I wouldn’t say American, I would say I am half
Irish and I am half Polish. After all, I could never deny it. My name gives me
away as Irish… “Bridget Higgins,” and let’s just says after my most recent
trip, I have no doubt in my mind I am Polish.
In my country, it is completely normal to use your heritage
to describe yourself. Many of my friends say say, “I am a little bit of this, a
little bit of that, throw a little Italian, German, Mexican, Spanish, lo que
sea in there and bada bing, bada boom, that’s me.” But not me, I always felt
lucky to have a father who is 100% Irish and a mother who is 100% Polish.
Although I was a “mutt” (as my mother would always joke) like everyone else, I
could pretty much trace my family’s history back to where my mother’s family
and my father’s family came from. And after a while, I learned it was pretty
rare to be split right down the middle.
So what is this entire heritage talk for? Well let me begin.
This is how I found out about my heritage and how I learned a little more about
my family and where I come from.
As a child, my mom would always tell me that she was Polish
and that I still had cousins living in Poland. I never understood completely
for obvious reasons. We had never spoken with them and I had never met them.
But I knew they had to be real because my mom would send gifts to them and
exchange cards with them at Christmas time. We saw pictures of them and we
received cards in return.
My mom would always say around Christmas, “I am going to babcia’s
(my grandmother) house, Aunt Stella’s house or I am going to Aunt Ag’s house.
We have to get these cards sent out in time. We have to keep in touch.” Because
as I found out later, my babcia and her sisters were the only connections left
between my family in Poland and my family in the United States. They were the
only ones who knew Polish.
I never questioned how or why my cousins were my cousins or
why they lived in Poland and I lived in the United States. I just took my mom’s
word for it that we were family. It wasn’t until much later that I learned how
many people had lost their roots in the years between the arrivals at Ellis
Island and now. And I learned that not everyone still keeps in touch with their
cousins in other countries.
Over time the cards to my cousins were sent and received
less frequently. Although my babcia had passed away early, we began to see her
sisters pass away. We weren’t just losing wonderful women, but we were losing
the only contacts we had with our cousins…our heritage. These were also the
last people to have gone over to Poland to visit our family. They were the only
ones who, at the time, we thought would know the land where our family came
from as well as the only ones who were fortunate enough to meet our cousins,
the other half of our family.
I do not remember a lot of contact with my cousins in Poland
during my time in high school and even my early years of college. Because my
grandmother and her sisters were passing away, my mom had to find someone to translate
the letters we received. Well it’s funny how things work out. As my mom puts it “As my aunts got older
and less able to help with writing and translating letters, two students at
school (where my mom works) were fluent in Polish and English. They translated
all the letters in Polish into English, and I would respond to the letters in
English and the students would rewrite them in Polish. By the time both
of them graduated, Klaudia (my cousin in Poland) was learning to write in
English. This is how I was able to keep up the communication with
them. As Klaudia became more fluent in English, Mary Ann (my mom’s
cousin who came to Poland with us) began to write to her as well.” My mom
wanted me to add this part of the story because she thought it was incredible
how right when we thought we were going to lose contact with our cousins,
something or someone came along to help. And we know my grandmother and her
sisters were somewhere making this happen for us.
When I decided to study abroad in Spain I was determined to
get to Poland to at least see where my family came from. But for some reason or
another, I didn’t get there. And wasn’t that a blessing in disguise.
In May of 2010, about two weeks after I returned to the
States from my semester abroad, we received a card in English from my cousins
in Poland. And we received the most exciting news that both my cousins Klaudia
and Sandra had Facebook and email addresses. Let’s just say I was on Facebook
before I was finished reading the letter. And there they were…the only ones
with their first and last names on the Facebook search! My cousins, the same
little girls we had send Barbies to and received pictures from were now on my
computer screen as beautiful young women. Ahh technology! We could now finally
be in touch in an instant instead of waiting for snail mail.
After my devastation of leaving Spain after my semester
abroad (I went kicking and screaming), I was determined to get back to Europe.
So when I decided to teach abroad in Spain, I said, this is it! This is the
only time I can do this. I am going to see my cousins.
I sent an email to my mom’s friend who is a travel agent,
and I said, please look for flights in April during Holy Week. My mom and I are
going to Poland. Without warning my mom, I included her in the email. It didn't take long for me to receive a response from her saying, “So Bridget,
we’re going to Poland?” And I said, “Yes, mom, we are. Because I am going and I
want you with me. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”
My mom then contacted her cousin MaryAnn and her daughter, my
cousin, Chrissy and together we planned the trip. My job was to be in touch
with my cousins over Facebook. We planned everything together and by the time
the end of March rolled around, we were on our way to Poland to begin the
adventure of a lifetime.
After landing in Warsaw, I send a text message to my cousin
Klaudia telling her our plane would land in Rzeszów, Poland around 2 pm. I received a text
right back saying Klaudia, her sister Sandra and her parents, Basia and Piotr
would be at our hotel at 4pm. We couldn’t believe it! THIS WAS HAPPENING! I
think the four of us were taken aback. We were going to be the first people
from our family in 30 years to return to Poland to see our cousins. We boarded
the plane. We were on our way to Rzeszów.
After making our way to our hotel, we began to get ready and
when I received the text message from Klaudia that they were at the hotel, my
cousin Chrissy and I went down to greet them. We expected to have a coffee at
the hotel and possibly go out to dinner later. But after a bunch of hugging and
hellos, they told us to go get our mothers. They had brought two cars to come
get us and we were going to their house to meet more family!
We were floored. When we ran up to get our moms, we told
them the news. When the eight of us were reunited in the hotel, no one needed
to say anything. There were hugs, tears and all of the joys of being reunited! I
think the most amazing part for me was seeing my mom and MaryAnn reunited for
the first time and following the same path their mothers had taken over thirty
years ago to visit our family.
After everyone got over the shock of actually being in
Poland…with our long lost family, we made our way to their house. My cousins
live in a beautiful home outside of Rzeszów. When we went inside we were just
expecting to have a coffee or something simple, but Basia came out with PLATES
of food…meats, breads, salads, desserts! Every Polish food I ate growing up was
on the table.
After the shock of actually being in our cousins’ home in
Poland, more relatives arrived and together over beers and kielbasa we figured
out the family tree which is as follows:
My great great grandfather, Valentine Kedzia married my
great great grandmother, Agata Bak. They had five children: John, Katherine,
Josephine, Joseph and Mary. Josephine,
Joseph and Mary made their way over to the United States while John and
Katherine stayed in Poland.
My great grandmother, Josephine Kedzia (or Jozefa in Polish)
departed from Bremen Germany and arrived in New York on September 7, 1909. In
the United States, she got married and had 13 children. My great grandmother had 13 children in about 15
years. My Babcia, Josephine, went on to have my mom who then went on to have
me!
Katherine (or my Aunt Kate), the second oldest, is the only one still
alive and well. She is the mother of MaryAnn who came on the trip with us.
Katherine is also the grandmother of Chrissy who came with her mother on our
adventure and the great grandmother of Marin, Chrissy’s daughter.
Katherine, the sister who stayed in Poland, had a daughter named
Katherine and who was cousins with my babcia. Katherine had a son named Zdzisław who is in the same
generation as my mom and MaryAnn. Zdzisław
married Stasia who had Basia and Ana. Basia and Ana are in the same generation
as me and Chrissy as well as my brother, Matt, my sister, Monica, and Chrissy’s
brother Greg. Basia married Piotr and had Klaudia and Sandra who, although they
are older, are in the same generation as Chrissy’s daughter Marin and the
children I will have one day.
Confused yet? Good. Because then you can imagine how we felt figuring
out the family tree.
But back to the visit. There was something about sitting around a table
with family members and feeling like you’ve known them forever. We stayed for
five hours and I don’t think any of us wanted to leave. All of us were waiting
for something to wake us up because we all felt like we were in a dream.
Although I didn’t understand the language, I had a permanent smile on my face.
If I could freeze one moment in time, I think that would have been it.
Throughout the two days that followed, our cousins made sure we didn’t
drop a penny for meals, activities or trips. They picked us up and dropped us
off for everything and made sure we didn’t have a dull moment in their town.
We ate pierogies at Zdzisław
and Stasia’s house which is the same house that my babcia had her
sisters stayed at when they were in Poland. My cousin MaryAnn kept a photo of
that house with her during the trip and was able to snap the same shot that her
mother had taken years before. I think that time came too soon to say goodbye
to Zdzisław, Stasia’s and Ana. One
moment we were eating, having fun and taking pictures, and the next, we were
saying goodbye. We didn’t have to speak the same language to know that the
goodbye tears were falling only because of an amazing reunion we had.
We saw the university where my cousin Klaudia studied. We took a trip
to the cemetery to see where our relatives are buried and the church that is
the exact site where our ancestors attended mass.
The following day,
we toured the palace in our cousins’ city and learning more about life in
Poland. I learned that my cousins and I had so much in common and it couldn’t
have been more obvious that we were related.
I don’t think it
happened until we were at the train station to catch our train to Krakow that I
got a horrible feeling it my stomach. I didn’t want to say goodbye to my
cousins. They were perfect and better than I could have ever expected them to
be. I wanted to know why we were separated so many years back but I realized
since I am living in the United States, I love knowing I have family to visit
in another part of the world.
On the train ride
to Krakow, I couldn’t help thinking how the four of us, sitting on that train,
saved a connection that could have been easily lost. I thought about my babcia
and knew that she was up there somewhere beaming with pride and I knew it was
with her help that this trip came together and passed so smoothly. I thought
about my cousins Klaudia and Sandra who did an amazing job translating so we
could actually plan and follow through with the trip. I thought
about their amazing parents and grandparents, aunt and even Klaudia’s boyfriend
Damian who made sure our three days in their city would be unforgettable.
But most importantly, I learned I have a lot to be thankful
for. I am thankful for my cousins in Poland and I am thankful for my cousins
from the States who made the trip and experienced such a beautiful reunion with
my mom and me. I am also thankful for my cousins at home who I hope to return to Poland with me one day. I am thankful for my whole family in Poland who taught me that
just being together is all a family needs to be complete and language comes
second. But most importantly, I am thankful for my mom. She taught me the
importance of family and the importance of knowing where you come from. My mom
worked hard to keep these connections and there is no way in my lifetime that I
will ever lose them. I plan for many trips to Poland with my family members,
especially my dad, brother and sister who were not there with us for the
initial trip. I plan for my children to have a connection with Klaudia and
Sandra’s children the way I have had a connection with them. And one day, I
plan to welcome my cousins into my home in the United States and attempt to
share the same hospitality with them that they did with us.
This is my experience with my cousins from the past and the present and what I hope will continue into the future. I
wrote it because I don’t want to ever forget what happened on that trip. I hope one day my
kids will read it and have the same desire to visit their cousins just like I
did. But most importantly, I hope this is just the beginning. So until the next
trip…
There was something about Ireland right from the beginning that made me love it. Since Dublin was the first stop, we didn't see any lavish palaces or beautiful gardens. There were no white sand beaches nor a labyrinth of streets winding through the city. But it was perfect. The pub style nightlife, food (and the potatoes) and the people were unlike anything you would find anywhere else. We did our free walking tour of the city and our tour guide made the trip. She was just wonderful and we learned so much about Ireland. The Irish people have been through a lot but they sure do a wonderful job at keeping a smile on their faces and rubbing their happiness off onto other people.
The Guinness factory could have taken a full afternoon but we saw how the beer was made (which was awesome!) and we actually got to see how the popularity of Guinness, both the beer and the brand, has developed over the years. By the end, we couldn't help but enjoy sitting around the Gravity Bar at the top of the factory and getting some beautiful views of the city while admiring the bartenders' skilled beer pouring techniques. We even got a shamrock printed into the foam (which is something our tour guide told us she hated, but hey, we were tourists so of course we loved it)! Let's just say it was a great experience! And the gift shop wasn't too bad either. 
The next morning, we were up bright and early and headed to Cork. We had some debate over Cork and Galway but since my grandmother's family was from Cork and I plan on returning to Galway with my dad, I decided to go. The city itself was alright but the real surprise came after the 20 minute bus ride out to Blarney Castle. The castle and gardens were incredible. We could have spent a whole day acting like kids, playing on the playgrounds, searching for fairies (yes fairies...don't ask) in the gardens and shopping in the world's largest Irish gift shop. And let's not forget, we had to kiss that Blarney Stone. After doing some acrobatic moves while being held by a nice old man about the ripe age of 65, we all managed to kiss the stone. As the saying goes, we're all supposed to be eloquent. And let's just say after the karaoke we sang later that night at Thomand bar in Cork, kissing the stone really did us some good. We might not have "rocked anyone like a hurricane" but the five of us American girls sure did leave our mark on the Emerald Isle.
