For those of you looking for knitting content, I'll warn you right up front that there is no knitting content to be found here today. It will be back tomorrow. Today I need to write about something else. For the past several days, knitting has not really been front and center in my head.
John's brother put it best: This weekend seemed like it went by an an instant and took an eternity.
And so it did.
John's family is Polish. To be more descriptive, they are Goral*, or Highlanders. When John is in a joking mood, he says that translates roughly what Americans would understand as "hillbilly". But that is really not a fair comparison. Goral are better described as a people of the mountains: strong, fiercely independent, deeply religious, very traditional. In many ways they are the keepers of the faith in ways that go far beyond just attending to their churches.
I am 3rd generation Lithuanian. That translates to an American who understands that the fact that she has an "as" ending on her last name associates her with a group of people in eastern Europe. I speak no Lithuanian, have no connections to Chicago's Lithuanian community, understand almost no Lithuanian traditions. This is how my family wanted my generation to be. When they came to the US in the early 20th century, there were many good reasons not to be identified as an eastern European immigrant. When any of us asked my grandmother to teach us some Lithuanian, she would always say, Why? You are American. You should speak English. And aside from eating some traditional food (kugeli, anyone?) and celebrating Christmas on Christmas Eve I know very little of what makes someone Lithuanian. American is what I am. A little bit of everything, a cultural tradition that is always in flux, from a country that still doesn't entirely know what it's identity really is.
It's the rituals in our lives that begin to teach us who we really are. When John and I got married, I was insistant that our wedding not reflect only Polish tradition. It caused a lot of conflict because where John comes from, tradition is so strong. And if you met John at work or at a party, you might think he is Polish the way I am Lithuanian. His tradition is important to him, but he grew up here, surrounded by both Polish and American culture. I wanted our wedding to reflect us. At that time, I thought of "us" as very American. And I still do. But John very much lives and participates in two worlds. I was intrigued by his family traditions but didn't understand them very well, and, to be honest, was a little afraid of them. They seemed like the sort of thing where one could lose one's own identity. And I didn't really want to do that.
Nonetheless, our wedding was marked by the religious ceremonies, the traditional music and musicians and a good deal of Polish food. At John's parents house we received a traditional blessing for our marriage from our parents. When the Goral musicians (essentially a Polish string quartet) started to play the traditional music for the occasion, I started to cry. It was something that just overwhelmed me. The music hit me in a very deep place. As we were walking out the door from John's parents house on the way to the church, a woman who is one of John's close family friends took my hands, Ah Theresa, now you are goralka.
By marrying John, I married into a lot of tradition. Most of which I still don't understand, and, I am sorry to say, a good deal of which I have resisted because of my strong personal discomfort with the religious component of it. It is a selfish thing on my part. After almost 9 years, I am getting better understanding, but I still opt out of a number of things when I can.
This weekend was a growing up experience for me. When the person you care about most in the world loses his father, opting out of things that scare you is not an option. In fact, it does not even cross your mind. I stood next to him at the front of the funeral home chapel for the visitation. I greeted and hugged people who had come to pay their respects to his father and his family for 6 hours. I got choked up when the people from "Klub Ludzmierz" said special prayers and sang traditional songs to honor my father-in-law's passing. I was there when the funeral director closed the coffin lid. I walked behind the coffin into the church. I placed a rose on the coffin at the cemetary and touched the coffin with a final Good-bye before it was lowered into the ground as those who had come with us sang a final song and said prayers.
It was one of the most emotionally wrenching and deeply moving things that I have been a part of. It was a priviledge to be able to stand next to my husband and his family and participate in a sad but important tradition.
When we went back to the funeral home to collect the flowers and few other things that still remained there, the funeral director and I were talking a bit as we moved flowers closer to the door where John and his brother were loading them into the car. He said to me, I hear from your husband, you're Lithuanian. When I first saw you, I thought for sure you must be Polish.
I think, perhaps now, I have earned a bit of the honor of being a goralka.
Rest in peace, Tat. We'll miss you.
* to anyone out there who speaks Polish better than I do, I apoligize in advance for all the incorrect spelling of Polish words that may show up in this post. My understanding of the Polish language is minimal by anyone's definition.
Thank you for this beautiful text, Theresa. I couldn't help crying.
I'm saddened by you loss Theresa. My thoughts are with you and John.
My condolences to you and John and your family, Theresa.
While I wouldn't wish the loss of a parent on anyone, being able to mark a loved one's passing in a positive way can be remarkably healing.
I've never been one for organized religion myself, but I remember when my grandmother died two years ago, and I attended her very Catholic wake and funeral. Normally religious services, especially Catholic ones, leave me feeling awkward and clumsy and out-of-place. I was amazed that after my grandmother's funeral, what I felt most was at peace, and almost... cleansed.
I hope that same sense of peace and clarity will come to you and John in the weeks and months ahead, and you mourn your loss. My best wishes to you both.
Theresa, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your husband during this tender time. I lost my dear dad 6 years ago January, and your post touched my heart. I too had the support of a wonderful spouse. Be gentle to oneanother. Peace.
You must have brought incredible comfort to John just by being at his sad. Having gone through this with Dale when his mother died, I know the importance of it.
My sincere condolences to you, John & your families. The passing of a parent is a sad milestone, but thank you for expressing this so eloquently. Please thank John's brother for putting into words that odd time skewing that happens during something painful but necessary; it expresses exactly what I was feeling during my mother's illness and funeral.
My thoughts are with you and your family at this difficult time. A sudden death is both the hardest and easiest thing to happen. On the one hand, you cannot say goodbye in person but on the other, there was no lingering suffering. My paternal grandfather died suddenly in 2003. My maternal grandfather is suffering.
I've just read that over and it doesn't sound quite right, but it will have to do! I'm sure you understand my sentiments.
I'm so sorry for your loss. This is the first time I'm commenting, in part to offer my condolences, and in part because I could have written much of what you wrote. I'm married to a man whose parents immigrated from Poland over 40 years ago, and for whom religion plays an enormous part in their lives, in ways I don't always understand or feel comfortable with. When we got married, we wound up having two services--one in the Dutch Reform church I grew up (loosely) in, and another in my in-laws' Orthodox Christian church--in order to try and find a balance.
My father-in-law is in the hospital as I write--end-stage cancer--and I am watching my husband try to figure how to deal with his loss. And I am trying to figure out, like you, how to help him. Thank you for writing; it helped to make me feel not so alone.
I'm so sorry for your loss Theresa.
Theresa,
I am so sorry for your loss. although you did not know your father-in-law too well I'm sure seeing your husband in sorrow is not easy for you.
And your Polish is not bad at all for a foreigner - it's a very difficult language - I am a native speaker and sill have problems with spelling and gramma, so don't worry. Good thing you're trying.
Take care, góralko!
I am sorry for your loss.
Theresa, your words are eloquent and heart-felt. I know that nothing I can say could really be enough so I'll just say that I'll be thinking of you and your family.
My sincere condolences to you and your family. Your description underscores for me the value of ritual in our lives, whether we are Polish, Catholic, Jewish, or anything else. It is a rite of passage, and we are all saying the same things, experiencing similar feelings, no matter that the words are different or in other languages. Ritual gets us through great emotional upheavals, esp. the sad ones. You and John are enriched by being part of traditions that honor life's important, often wrenching, moments. We are lucky to be able to choose the good, binding parts of our traditions and build on those rather than the divisive parts. I don't mean to be preachy; I just feel I've learned a lot in 65 years. And you're learning too.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I'm so sorry for your loss. That was such a beautiful post. Thanks or sharing it with us.
My thoughts are with you and your husband at this most difficult time. Pax.
That was a lovely post, and I echo everyone else with sending my condolences. I hope you and John are able to find some comfort in the traditionas and rituals you participated in. I've found comfort in similar things at the passing of my Grandfather many years ago.
I am so sorry for your loss, Theresa. My thoughts are with you, John, and your family.
My condolences to you, John, and your families. Thanks for sharing this beautiful post.
I just lost both of my elderly parents last year. My deepest condolences to you and your husband.
What a lovely tribute to your father-in-law, and your husband's family, at a time when it must be difficult. John is so lucky to have a partner who recognizes the gravity of tradition and the healing nature of it. My condolences to you both.
My husband's father died two months before our wedding and I too wish I'd known him better. I hope that you find peace and comfort together and I'm certain that you will, in time.
So well put, this post and the last. I am so sorry for your loss............I'm going to go hug some friends........
Such a touching, heartfelt essay on what makes us part of the human family. These are things that tug at all of us in some way: loss, longing and belonging.
My sincerest condolences to you and John. Losing someone is never easy.
Thanks for such a thoughtful post. How lucky you are. I know it may not feel that way now. But you are. Take care of yourselves.
Please accept my deepest sympathy and condolences to you and your family during this difficult time. My heart goes out to you.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Beautiful thoughts in your post.
I am so sorry for your loss. I think it is lovely that the polish community still hold on to so many of their traditions. Once they are gone it is very diffcult to get them back. this is what has happened on my island, because a whole generation was evacuated to England during the second World War and missed out on all the traditions associated with weddings, funerals etc. They also missed out on learning our local patois or language which is almost dead.
Theresa, a very dear friend of mine is Polish, and has lived half her life there and half here. Her boyfriend (also a good friend) has been going through similar experiences that you had in your marriage. Her parents don't speak a lot of English, and while very friendly, they are cut from a utterly different piece of cloth. I know he struggles to to integrate himself without becoming someone he isn't. I'll send him the link, and perhaps it will help them to have a more united path, like you and John.
I am so, so sorry for John; I cannot imagine someday losing my dear dad. Even the thought of it makes me want to pass out. May the good times be at the forefront of his mind, and the pain ebb a little.
My condolences to you and your family. What a touching post.
As to what your grandmother used to say to you when you asked to learn Lithuanian? My great-grandmother would say the same thing about things that were Chinese. Thus I am not very rooted in my culture either and I do regret the things that were lost through the years of becoming "American."
This brought me smiles and tears.
xo
Theresa and John~
I'm so sorry for your loss.
What a lovely tribute to the traditions of John's family; both in happier times and in sorrow. You are both in my thoughts.
Take care.
Theresa, it is only with age and a bit more experience with sorrow and death, that I have started reaching the realizations that you have so eloquently shared. The more life closes in, the more I appreciate those who can gracefully navigate the rites of passage in a life. I am certain that true adulthood does not arrive until we can step out of our own fears and anxieties in order to help our loved ones cope with theirs. The loss of a parent, a sibling, a child...these are primal. My thoughts are with you and John.
My condolences to you, John, and your families. Thanks for sharing this beautiful post.
heartfelt wishes for peace go out to you and John. May traditions hold your grief tenderly in its hands - and carry you across the bridge of comfort.
An extremely thoughtful and deep post - thank you. And you have my condolences. You have a close and precious family, and are very lucky.
My heart goes out to you and John at this time of loss. When my dad died 3 years ago, I couldn't believe how a man who had been with me all my life, could be so gone. It is such a great comfort knowing that John's dad had a life long relationship and love for God, lived for him during his life and now lives in his eternal, heavenly home. Nothing else in life really matters. John, your dad would want you to keep the faith.
I'm so sorry to hear or your loss
I'm so sorry, T. No matter when it happens, it is always premature. You make it more meaningful by describing the traditions, and the roots. It's something I've appreciated more as I've gotten older, and I always regret the lost years. Send my best to John, and my sympathies.
My heartfelt condolences, Theresa. I married into a culture far different from my own, as well, so I feel your post on so many levels.
That was a lovely piece of writing.
You both, take care.
Oh, T, I'm sorry. It's always tough to go through these passages, even as the rituals lend us strength. Be gentle with yourself and John for a while, okay?
So sorry for your loss....and your bil said it best....I remember when my Dad passed away at the age of 58 and how that weekend could be summed up the same way....
I am also Polish and have a few wedding traditions of my own.....I will save them for another time.....take care of each other.....and remember.....life is short.......Live It!
Diane
My deepest condolences. Thank you for sharing this beautiful post.
Thoughts and prayers to you and your family, and thank you for such well-written, sensitive thoughts...