Tuesday, yes, Tuesday, we visited old family friends. Nadia the woman of the household we visited is the only and much beloved daughter of Nicholas whom my siblings and I call Uncle Nick although there is no blood relation between us. The families are distantly related through marriage – Nadia’s father is cousin to the father of another Nicholas who married my mother’s sister. Nadia suggested that Uncle Nick was great-grandpa to Julia and Julia cheerfully complied. She is very willing to call older people grandma and grandpa, and when she does this, I always wonder if she visited or was visited by the people who lived in the old peoples’ home that shared grounds with the orphanage. She did this last year when she met friends of my mother and did it again when she saw them again this year.
Uncle Nick was a childhood friend of my mother’s half-brother, Nick, our real Uncle Nick, when they both lived in Ukraine. Both came to the United States as young men, my mother’s brother after years of being brought up by paternal grandparents who were less than happy to be saddled with a young boy after their son died and his young wife immigrated to America. My grandmother did not save sufficient funds to get her son to the US until he was 16 years old. By that time, she had re-married and produced two daughters. I wonder at his thoughts and feelings as he entered a family and got to know the mother who had left him in her old country when he was a little more than an infant. She expected to make a start in America, and to have a home ready for her husband and son when they joined her as soon as the husband was released from the Russian Army. Instead, the husband died during boot camp, probably of influenza, and Uncle Nick had to grow up a virtual orphan.
Nadia’s father married before my Uncle Nick, to a woman named Genya They had one daughter, the very Nadia we visited. She, in turn, married John and had two sons, who produced a set of triplets (two girls and a boy), another daughter, and a son. One of Nadia’s sons is an artist who draws political cartoons for the NY Post and decorated St. Agnes’ Church in NYC (incredibly gorgeous) and authored and illustrated a kids’ book with his young son. Nadia and her parents (and parts of her extended family) lived in the same neighborhood on Baldwin Street in Newark, New Jersey, in the 1930's that my mother and her family lived. Their life was probably typical of the time and revolved around their church with everyone participating in choir, dance troupes, after school and Saturday Ukrainian classes, and sports clubs. From what I gather, and have gathered all through my life, our families have always been very warm and close. My mother talks of Nadia’s aunt, Olga, who favored my mother (and put bows in her hair) when her own mother was busy caring for an ailing husband and supporting their household, and possibly neglecting her youngest daughter. Nadia at 10 was the flower girl in my parents’ wedding with a long ruffled dress and long hair in fat baloney curls. She was very beautiful as a child (actually all her life) and I often thought that the pictures of her was what my mother would have preferred for her own daughter. I remember Nadia visiting my family when I was very young – 4, maybe 3 even. She brought me a big, fat, blue book that had nursery rhymes, short stories, and portions of chapter books in it. I cherished this book, the first book that was all my own, and to this day, my favorite gift to any child, especially young children, is a book. I once told Nadia how much I thought of this gift to a rather shy, fat, and plain little girl and she laughed off its importance. And that is part of her as well.
Nadia is in possession of a rich spirit and her home is full of memories. Paintings and sketches adorn the walls – both John, her husband and one of her sons are responsible for much of the art work. Then there are pictures of parents, relations near and far, children, and grandchildren. There are cabinets and cases that enclose crystal, china, and dolls from a few generations of girls and souvenirs of lives lived with great curiosity and spirit. Nadia and her family have kept their connections with Ukraine and Ukrainian relatives alive. Both she and her father visited often and for long periods of time, and send supplies often. They have hosted relations coming to the US and have helped those left behind.
Nadia’s spirit is expansive and rich. Her welcome to all of us was effusive. She knows of my life mostly through my mother’s reports, she met Cheshire when Ches was about 9 and playing violin for my parents’ 48th anniversary party. She welcomed Julia, admiring her beauty and spirit, and finding for her perfect toys and presents, some hidden and some out to be played with immediately. Nadia took Julia into her basement and offered her dolls. I think that Nadia loved/loves dolls and I understand the happy possibility of sharing a doll with a child. But Julia is Julia, and dolls are not her favorites. I was not there but Nadia regrouped and found a playschol camper set which Julia immediately set upon. Julia was more than excited. She has a bit playschol toys – little people, a hotdog stand, and some plastic clothes – from Matthew, but I have not found any sets that I like and think appropriate for Julia. This set with a travel camper, a family of five, and tiny accessories kept her occupied for hours. Julia pulled all of the pieces apart from their plastic holders and set tiny tables, put people onto tiny chairs, and even arranged tiny flowers. And when later Nadia asked her to bring some of it to the diningroom table to show her father, Julia ran to the porch room, gathered up some of the pieces into her skirt and brought them to the table. This reaction of Julia’s, so ordinary, is nonetheless such a leap! Julia is now responding by doing. Oh, I hope this continues in school. How much easier it would be for Christy and her therapists if Julia started doing what she was asked to do.
The visit with Nadia was so tinged with the old fashion visits I remember from my very young years. An hour visit that turns into the rest of the day. The children – child in this case – playing part of the time in another room, and the adults talking, catching up and telling stories, giving time to the oldest ones to say something and listening to an occasional opinion for the youngest of the adults. Well, I don’t remember the last, but saw it happening in this house. Cheshire was listened to, advised and offered all wishes, support and love. I got to talk about Julia and her challenges as both John and Nadia worked with children, some with special needs, during their working years. And again, I was listened to, advised, and offered love and support.
We ate cold cuts and cheeses and peach pie and poppyseed cake that we had bought in a bakery. My mother praised my poppyseed cake, but Cheshire found the store bought (the first store bought that she has ever eaten) good enough to indulge in three pieces – so uncharacteristic of her. Nadia told us about her own pies even though this too was bought. Nadia’s tasks right now are taking care of her aging father – 99 this year, a bit feeble but very alert – and her ailing husband. She seems to do it with such good cheer and very few complaints – those being only in relation to how her charges are unable to enjoy things as they used to. Her good cheer and devotion is natural, and both Ches and I felt that Nadia enjoyed every day. I was so happy to be included in this visit. I am so glad that Cheshire got to know such a woman. Nadia fills all of us with her expansive spirit, and possibly we caught her excitment for every day.
Uncle Nick was a childhood friend of my mother’s half-brother, Nick, our real Uncle Nick, when they both lived in Ukraine. Both came to the United States as young men, my mother’s brother after years of being brought up by paternal grandparents who were less than happy to be saddled with a young boy after their son died and his young wife immigrated to America. My grandmother did not save sufficient funds to get her son to the US until he was 16 years old. By that time, she had re-married and produced two daughters. I wonder at his thoughts and feelings as he entered a family and got to know the mother who had left him in her old country when he was a little more than an infant. She expected to make a start in America, and to have a home ready for her husband and son when they joined her as soon as the husband was released from the Russian Army. Instead, the husband died during boot camp, probably of influenza, and Uncle Nick had to grow up a virtual orphan.
Nadia’s father married before my Uncle Nick, to a woman named Genya They had one daughter, the very Nadia we visited. She, in turn, married John and had two sons, who produced a set of triplets (two girls and a boy), another daughter, and a son. One of Nadia’s sons is an artist who draws political cartoons for the NY Post and decorated St. Agnes’ Church in NYC (incredibly gorgeous) and authored and illustrated a kids’ book with his young son. Nadia and her parents (and parts of her extended family) lived in the same neighborhood on Baldwin Street in Newark, New Jersey, in the 1930's that my mother and her family lived. Their life was probably typical of the time and revolved around their church with everyone participating in choir, dance troupes, after school and Saturday Ukrainian classes, and sports clubs. From what I gather, and have gathered all through my life, our families have always been very warm and close. My mother talks of Nadia’s aunt, Olga, who favored my mother (and put bows in her hair) when her own mother was busy caring for an ailing husband and supporting their household, and possibly neglecting her youngest daughter. Nadia at 10 was the flower girl in my parents’ wedding with a long ruffled dress and long hair in fat baloney curls. She was very beautiful as a child (actually all her life) and I often thought that the pictures of her was what my mother would have preferred for her own daughter. I remember Nadia visiting my family when I was very young – 4, maybe 3 even. She brought me a big, fat, blue book that had nursery rhymes, short stories, and portions of chapter books in it. I cherished this book, the first book that was all my own, and to this day, my favorite gift to any child, especially young children, is a book. I once told Nadia how much I thought of this gift to a rather shy, fat, and plain little girl and she laughed off its importance. And that is part of her as well.
Nadia is in possession of a rich spirit and her home is full of memories. Paintings and sketches adorn the walls – both John, her husband and one of her sons are responsible for much of the art work. Then there are pictures of parents, relations near and far, children, and grandchildren. There are cabinets and cases that enclose crystal, china, and dolls from a few generations of girls and souvenirs of lives lived with great curiosity and spirit. Nadia and her family have kept their connections with Ukraine and Ukrainian relatives alive. Both she and her father visited often and for long periods of time, and send supplies often. They have hosted relations coming to the US and have helped those left behind.
Nadia’s spirit is expansive and rich. Her welcome to all of us was effusive. She knows of my life mostly through my mother’s reports, she met Cheshire when Ches was about 9 and playing violin for my parents’ 48th anniversary party. She welcomed Julia, admiring her beauty and spirit, and finding for her perfect toys and presents, some hidden and some out to be played with immediately. Nadia took Julia into her basement and offered her dolls. I think that Nadia loved/loves dolls and I understand the happy possibility of sharing a doll with a child. But Julia is Julia, and dolls are not her favorites. I was not there but Nadia regrouped and found a playschol camper set which Julia immediately set upon. Julia was more than excited. She has a bit playschol toys – little people, a hotdog stand, and some plastic clothes – from Matthew, but I have not found any sets that I like and think appropriate for Julia. This set with a travel camper, a family of five, and tiny accessories kept her occupied for hours. Julia pulled all of the pieces apart from their plastic holders and set tiny tables, put people onto tiny chairs, and even arranged tiny flowers. And when later Nadia asked her to bring some of it to the diningroom table to show her father, Julia ran to the porch room, gathered up some of the pieces into her skirt and brought them to the table. This reaction of Julia’s, so ordinary, is nonetheless such a leap! Julia is now responding by doing. Oh, I hope this continues in school. How much easier it would be for Christy and her therapists if Julia started doing what she was asked to do.
The visit with Nadia was so tinged with the old fashion visits I remember from my very young years. An hour visit that turns into the rest of the day. The children – child in this case – playing part of the time in another room, and the adults talking, catching up and telling stories, giving time to the oldest ones to say something and listening to an occasional opinion for the youngest of the adults. Well, I don’t remember the last, but saw it happening in this house. Cheshire was listened to, advised and offered all wishes, support and love. I got to talk about Julia and her challenges as both John and Nadia worked with children, some with special needs, during their working years. And again, I was listened to, advised, and offered love and support.
We ate cold cuts and cheeses and peach pie and poppyseed cake that we had bought in a bakery. My mother praised my poppyseed cake, but Cheshire found the store bought (the first store bought that she has ever eaten) good enough to indulge in three pieces – so uncharacteristic of her. Nadia told us about her own pies even though this too was bought. Nadia’s tasks right now are taking care of her aging father – 99 this year, a bit feeble but very alert – and her ailing husband. She seems to do it with such good cheer and very few complaints – those being only in relation to how her charges are unable to enjoy things as they used to. Her good cheer and devotion is natural, and both Ches and I felt that Nadia enjoyed every day. I was so happy to be included in this visit. I am so glad that Cheshire got to know such a woman. Nadia fills all of us with her expansive spirit, and possibly we caught her excitment for every day.
Nadia, Babja (my mother), and Uncle Nick. And below, Julia gets into the act.
Julia shows Babja and then Great-grandpa Nick her new toys that Nadia magically produced from her basement.
Great Granpa investigate for himself and shows Julia a things AND two.
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