Families  are like branches on a tree.  We grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one.  (Author Unknown)

As I mentioned in my previous post (Love Grows On, August 7, 2019). The publication of my book Je t’aime resulted in my being contacted by someone who had done a DNA analysis and thought we might be related.  It turns out we are.  Jean Ann is the granddaughter of my grandfather Frank Sladowski’s sister, whose name was Anna Sladowski Roslan.  I think that makes us second cousins.  We spoke several times on the phone, exchanged emails and compared notes on our relationship.  They seemed to coincide.

Then in mid-August, I had the opportunity to be in New Jersey, and we made arrangements to get together.  Not only did Jean Ann and her husband Tony, attend, but her cousins Paul and his wife Marie, and Steve and his wife Candi and their two sons, Andrew and Chris and Chris’s wife Deana and their son Nicholas came as well. My cousin Jean Marie (her grandfather was my father’s first cousin) and her husband Wayne also joined us. My daughter Stephanie and granddaughters Claire and Helen had made the trip to New Jersey with me; and brother Bob and his wife Jean rounded out the party. (Did you notice there are a lot of Jeans in the family).

We met at the Madison Hotel in Convent Station.  There was an immediate connection, and we shared pictures and stories.  There were so many similarities. Jean Ann made a family tree showing her grandmother’s branch (Roslan); Steve brought family photographs, all identified with names and dates.  Jean Marie brought her parents’ wedding album.

The reunion was delightful. Desmond Tutu is credited with saying “You don’t choose your family.  They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” I am so blessed to not only know these wonderful people, but to be related to them.  We ended the evening with the promise of getting together again and including more of the family.

Growing up in the three square miles of Bayonne with all of my Mother’s side of the family, the Bobers—grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins–in close proximity, I knew of only a few of our Sladowski relatives and saw them infrequently,  usually at funerals. Because they lived about thirty-five miles away, after my grandfather died, we lost touch.

I am so grateful that Jean Ann reached out to me.  Her doing so gave me a new mission—to learn more about the Sladowski side.  I have already embarked on the project and discovered some interesting information.  There will have to be a sequel to Je’taime to tell, as Paul Harvey would say, “the rest of the story.”

Foot note:  The family name Sladowski does not appear on the list of Polish names recorded on Google.  However, I have pieced together this interpretation:  Slad stopy is translated as “mark or footprint.”  Polish last names were most often derived from places, family patriarchs or nicknames.  Names derived from places usually ended in –ski, meaning “of” and were reserved for nobility.  In the 13^th century, however, it became fashionable to adopt a –ski name, making it one of the most identifiable traits of Polish last names.  So ours is a noble name of a family whose members have  left their mark or footprint on history.

The photo was taken at Jean Marie’s parents’ wedding in 1950.  Bride and Groom were Victor Dombrowski and Jean Rylka.  Their fathers are standing behind them and mothers sitting next to them.  Others in the picture are my grandparents and my grandfather’s sisters and their spouses.  The only person no one is able to identify is the younger woman standing in the middle directly behind the happy couple.  The little girl on the left is my sister Cathie.  She was five at the time.  I was a Junior Bridesmaid in the wedding party.