May 2021 - Post-Vaccine World Tour

I had my second shot of the Moderna vaccine on April 9, which meant that I could finally travel out of state overnight with no required Covid test or quarantine by the 23rd.  So for my first trip I just had to go to Connecticut to see family that I've missed for over a year.  

What used to be just a routine trip may as well have been an around-the world journey in terms of my level of anticipation.

Born and raised in Connecticut, it was strange for me to think that I hadn't been there since March 2020.  Even stranger was the fact that I hadn’t been anywhere overnight in all of that time.  I had to remind myself of the basics that I'd need to pack, because the last time I did any packing was for a ski trip to Montana just before the country started to shut down 14 months ago.  That trip never happened for us because I broke my wrist just hours before we were to leave (as it turned out, I never completely un-packed from that aborted trip, which made packing this time easy because I found my travel-ready shampoo, toothpaste, and what-nots still in their TSA-approved Ziploc baggies stashed in the back of the closet).

All packed, and with a tank full of gas, I left home on Sunday morning the 25th.

First, a few random observations:

• As always, the drive south this time of year is a fast-forward trip through the season.  As I got on I-89 in Randolph, I could see the snow on Killington in the distance; the foliage along the highway was just beginning to show some “fuzz”.   But just two hours later, I was looking around at blossoming trees and neon green lawns in Connecticut. 

• Crossing through Massachusetts, I noticed that the state has re-numbered its highway exits to match the highway mile markers, a practice common in the rest of the country, but not yet evident in Vermont or Connecticut.

• Approaching Springfield, I realized something else that I hadn’t done (nor missed) in over a year: driving on a three-lane highway.  I was reminded of that fact as I crossed the line into Holyoke and immediately observed several cars doing the familiar high-speed ping-pong across multiple lanes of traffic.  (A corollary question – when did Massachusetts and Connecticut stop putting directional signals in cars?)

Arriving in Newington, I got to meet my newest grandniece Adalina, just one month old, before proceeding to a small gathering with other nieces and nephews – all vaccinated – for a few hours.  We had met a couple of times during the pandemic – a hike at Skinner State Park last September, a quick gift swap in a Brattleboro parking lot before Christmas – but those were masked and not long enough for extended conversation.  I have to say that at first it did feel kind of strange to all be together, like we were doing something marginally illegal.  It didn’t take long, however, until the intervening months were almost forgotten.

Then: September 2020.....vs.......

Now: April 2021

Next, it was on to Waterford on the Connecticut coast for a relaxed visit and overnight stay with my long-time friend Nancy – and the realization that I hadn’t seen the ocean in over a year and a half!   To make up for it, we drove to Rocky Neck State Park the next morning for a long walk.   The park isn’t open to the beach crowd quiet yet, so the beach and the wooded trails were peaceful.  

I hadn’t been to Rocky Neck since the early1970’s, but it holds a special place in my memories.   Living in Hartford when I was a child, we spent virtually every Sunday in the summertime there.   Saturdays were for working around the house and yard, but Sunday mornings we’d get up for the early Mass, then my parents would pack up the car with what seemed to be enough food for a week, and we’d head down the old Route 9 to Rocky Neck for the day.  

Rocky Neck, 1954-ish: I'm the blur, second from the right, behind my father's hand

With friends and extended family meeting us there, we’d set up “base camp” of several tables together in the grassy picnic area.   There was always plenty of grilled kielbasa and potato salad, but we’d go up to the pavilion to buy cotton candy, ice cream, and French fries.   If we were lucky, we’d hear the train coming and run to watch it from the bridge behind the pavilion. (I remember dropping French fries onto the train).   I recall that the mothers mostly stayed in the picnic area throughout the day (someone had to guard all of the food!), while the fathers would head to the beach with the kids; we'd spend what seemed like hours floating around in those big old black inner tubes.  The end of the day meant one more snack in the parking lot – it seems like our group was always among the last ones there – and a sleepy ride home with a sunburn and sand in my clothes and sneakers.

What was that that I said in my second paragraph?  The one-night trip “may as well have been an around-the world journey in terms of my level of anticipation”.   I’d say it lived up to the expectation – meeting the newest member of my family, hugging my nieces and nephews, spending time with a childhood friend, and a trip down memory lane to cap it all off.   Who needs to travel around the world?

 

Inland brook at Rocky Neck State Park

 

April 2021 - Restless?

 

It seems like most conversations I’ve had lately start with “Have you had your vaccine yet?”, and quickly move on to talk of plans for after the fact.   We’re all getting a little restless.  

Like John and me, most if not all of you that are reading this are retired.  We haven’t had to worry about job losses or child care over the last year, and have hopefully all remained healthy.   We continue to bide our time at home as we wait for those vaccines and for the world to open up.   We might have some moments of boredom, but can pretty much choose how we’ll spend each day: maybe by planning a trip or a reunion with family members later this year, or by tackling some home improvements, or by pursuing any number of hobbies.  

I know I’ve mentioned before that one of my hobbies is genealogy – something that I’ve dabbled with on and off over the years.  During this time at home, I’ve set a goal for myself of trying to reach as far back through the generations as the records allow – a rabbit hole of hours following a chain of births, marriages, and deaths of the generations that preceded me. 

John’s brother has traced their maternal side back to William Bradford and the Mayflower; my cousin’s wife has identified that her roots go back to the 11^th century and William the Conqueror.    As expected, my search hasn’t revealed any such notables.   With the help of a couple of websites, I’ve been able to reach back about six generations of some branches of my family tree – back to the 1700’s – for basic information like names and dates.   The trail will probably end there because earlier records are few and far between (even the records of the 19^th and 20^th centuries are sketchy), but I don’t think I’ll discover any royalty or historic figures.

With the bits of information found, I’ve been able to fill in a vague picture of their lives.  Although an unremarkable history, it has certainly altered my perspective on our current situation.

A cottage in Jednorozec

 

My parents hail from the Polish village of Jednorozec  - “Unicorn” in English *.  The origins map that came with my DNA results leaves little doubt of my roots: the six generations represent well over 100 people (64 great-great-great-great-grandparents, 32 great-great-great-grandparents, 16 great-great-grandparents, 8 great-grandparents and 4 grandparents), and they all pretty much lived and died in the same place where they were born, and all within about a 30 mile radius of each other.  ** 

My DNA map

The occupation of most if not all of them was listed as “farmer”.   The simple houses they lived in probably didn’t change much from the 1700’s until the mid-1900’s, when electricity was finally introduced to Jednorozec.  They married young and had large families, but suffered unimaginable losses, like the story of one of my great-great-grandfathers: 

Jakub had been widowed once at a young age, then lost his second wife and four children within the span of eight months in 1866, possibly due to an outbreak of Cholera.  He was left alone to raise his remaining two year-old son (my great-grandfather).   Fifty years old at the time, Jakub remarried and was subsequently widowed again.  He remarried yet again to a woman half his age, fathering several more children, three of whom survived to have their own families.  He died at the ripe old age of 73, having survived that young wife – his fourth – by a year. 

Jakub's is only one of the biographies that I’ve been able to piece together.  It was rare to see anyone live into their 60’s, and of necessity, it wasn’t unusual for widows/widowers to remarry within a month or two of burying their spouse.   

Most of them probably never traveled far beyond their county limits.   Generation after generation suffered the same tragedies, and celebrated the same joys and traditions.

There were no vaccines for diseases that we’ve long since conquered, no winter escapes to a warmer climate, or any dreams about future travel.   No debates about where to go skiing or even where to go for dinner.   No fretting about selecting just the right granite countertops/automobiles/medical plans/stock options from among millions of choices.  No chance to purchase something with a click of the finger and have it arrive on the doorstep – and then complain because it took a day longer than expected because of pandemic supply chain issues.   No chance to get upset because the corner store is out of Proseco, or because those off-season California strawberries just aren’t as good as the local summer harvest.

They couldn’t even to vote for the leader of the country; they could only wait for the 100+ year Tsarist Russian occupation to end. 

Retirement would have been a foreign concept, let alone the idea of waking up in the morning and having a choice of how to spend the day, or which hobby to pursue while waiting out the pandemic.  In fact, the idea of searching through family genealogy itself may have seemed a novel idea!

So, am I getting restless?  Maybe a little – but who am I to complain?

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* Here’s commercial endorsement that I’ve plugged before: go visit Unicorn Bakery in Vernon!  It’s named after the village and is owned and operated by my cousin Peter. https://www.facebook.com/unicornpolishbakery/

** Much as John teases me about it – no, my family tree is NOT the shape of a telephone pole – no evidence of weird family intermarriages!   However, it seems like every other girl in the village was named Marianna, and – as in any other small town around the world – last names repeated themselves.  Thus it was that after my 3^rd great-grandfather Szymon Opalach lost his first wife Marianna Sedrowski, he managed to find another, younger woman with the exact same name to marry just a few weeks later.  No need to change the names on their embossed stationery.