My grandparents lovestory
I have been lost this week in research. I realized that what I know about my family tree is close to nothing. My Mom's parents were a "contemporary Romeo and Juliet" story, their parents (my great grandparents) did not approve of their love and therefore cut all contacts with them. They were never married. But my grandma bore a daughter (my mother) but were forced to marry somebody else. My Mom hardly knows anything about her grandparents. All she knows is that they fled from Poland during the Polish-Soviet war from Poland. My grandfather's name is Lewis J. Bennardini Jr. and was born in Russia. I have researched their family name, Bennardini which so far appears to be a very common Polish-Jewish surname. My Grandmother is also a polish. She is named Zena Yzombard. My Mom promised me to talk with her half-brother to see if he remembers anything. My uncle still lives in Russia and keeps in touch with one of the cousins of theirs. I certainly hope he'll know some more about the family but I also know that it is nearly impossible due to the alienation of my grandparents from their ancestors. It is so interesting, though.
Both my grandparents died a violent death at a very young age: my grandfather died by suicide on February 20, 1976. He jumped off the roof of his office building a few moments after he reported for work. He was killed on the spot. It is said that he couldn't afford any longer the depression caused by the breakup with my grandma, so he decided to take his life. My grandmother died in a car crash a few years later. It was May 9, 1984 or 1985. (I couldn't recall what my mother told me) An 18-wheeler hit their car head on, she died at the scene while my grandfather in law survived. This all happened a few months after I was born. My grandma lived to see me as a newborn baby but soon after my birth, she died. She always felt guilty for the death of her ex-fiancee.
On their way back from church, they had the accident. The driver of the 18-wheeler was drunk and he admitted to being at fault. He sat in prison for several years for negligent homicide. My uncle kept in touch with him, visited him in prison regularly and forgave him for killing his parents. He even filed a request of mercy on the driver's behalf and finally the driver was discharged from prison. I always admired my uncle's generosity and kindness. Both him and my Mom "forgave" the guy and did not want his kids to grow up without their father. I think there is no greater level of forgiveness and generosity. Even though I remember Rabbi Schiftan's teaching about forgiveness, and I even agree with it, I still wish I could be so merciful to someone who took almost everything I love from me.
My grandma was a psychiatrist and my grandfather was in the military -- as a musician. He could play the guitar very well. He had just this stomach problem ever since that he was suffering all his life. He stationed, for a while, in Hungary -- in the town where I went to university, Szeged -- and he spoke fluent Hungarian. Which came very handy when my Mom took home her boyfriend (my Dad), who was Hungarian, an international student at the University of Saintpetersbourg (Russia). That is where my parents met.
On my father's side, there is even less information available. His mother died when he was 17, I never knew her. I only saw pictures of her and I know she was from where today Slovakia is. My paternal grandfather was a baker.
Overall, I think this qualifies as my conversion-project. I am going to research more, especially when I go home to Hungary for my upcoming (and last) IVF protocol. I am going to ask the congregation to give me its blessing and dedicate a prayer that I can finally, after so many years, have my only dream come true.
