The Beginning of the Journey

This is my grandfather, Hilary Gawlowski. Or Dziadek, in Polish, which is how I knew him. This is his photo when he was in the Polish Home Army (the Polish resistance in World War II)-- tell me he doesn't look like Gene Kelly. You can tell me that, but I'll just tell you he's handsomer. He died when I was four, but the memories I have are strong. And his shadow in my family is stronger.

Dan, my husband, and I went to Poland on our honeymoon to connect with my-- and now Dan's-- family heritage, and deeply ingrained throughout was the connection with this amazing man who has played such a role in my life, whether or not he's physically been around.

I held a hope I might find our relatives-- Dziadek's half-siblings and their kids-- on our journey. Sadly, all contact disappeared with Dziadek's death.

What's the deal with the half-siblings? Here's the short version: my great-grandfather, being a landowner (a farmer), was banished to Siberia shortly after the Boshevik Revolution. After eight years in a labor camp, having lost his wife, unable to go home, and thinking he lost everyone else, he started a new family in Siberia.

Dziadek found out about all of this in the 1950s, after he'd already come to the U.S. with my grandmother and dad. Via relatives in Poland, they exchanged family portraits, and he learned of his brother and sister across the globe. He was never able to meet them. 

I tried to find them before we went to Poland, but no luck. No one knew how to reach our family out there, and it seemed that all was lost to time. 

Then, a month ago, I received a message through my playwriting website. A man named Timo Laakso asked if I knew Hilarj Gavlovskij. He said someone was trying to reach him, and he had further information to share. Naturally, I assumed he wanted my bank account number. But, for whatever reason, I wrote him back. He sent me a link to a Russian reality TV show called Wait for Me, where a man named Vladislav Gavlovskij had posted a photo-- of my grandparents, my dad, and my aunt. A photo I've seen before. He wrote (says Google Translate) of how he is looking for his brother, who he's never met. The story checked out. Tears ensued.

And so, long story short, Dan and I booked tickets to fly to Moscow to appear on Russian reality TV to surprise my great-uncle, who thought he was just there to announce his search and ask for clues. (I realize how surreal this sounds...) My brothers Andrew and Danny, and Danny's wife and son, all came, too. 

The experience was beyond overwhelming. My brother and I shot some photos, and the video (in Russian) has been posted by the TV show, as well. I hope someday to translate it (though some moments, of course, need no translation).

In the meantime, my new-found Uncle Vlad (technically my great-uncle, but he's only a few years older than my dad, so we'll go with "uncle") and I have begun to forge a relationship. He doesn't speak English, and I don't speak Russian (at least, not yet). But, amazingly, we are still able to talk. None of this would be possible without today's technology. Timo wouldn't have ever found me, and we wouldn't be able to communicate. With amazement, gratitude, and humility, I'll be sharing some of our exchanges here (with Uncle Vlad's blessing, of course).