Rozalia was my great-grandmother. She is the legendary matriarch of our family. I have never met anyone who did not speak of her magnetism, sense of humor, work ethic and matzoball soup. I was born on the day of the second anniversary of her death.
Anne was my grandmother. I did have the pleasure and honor to grow up with her and her sharp wit, sense of humor, similarly well-developed work ethic and ability to earn incredible love and loyalty from everyone who knew her.
For both of these women, the sea was their link to a better life. Anne and my grandfather Arthur lived in Philadelphia and by the ocean in New Jersey and when they traveled, they did so mostly by sea. My grandparents took me on a cruise from New York City to Bermuda when I was in high school.
Though I was a sailor, that was the first time I was offshore enough not to see any land (thought it was the coolest). It was on that trip I went SCUBA diving for the first time – I do not have the words to describe that experience. Notably, it was the second time my grandmother had entered New York harbor from the sea. The first time as a terrified 3 year old Russian and this time as a happy, fulfilled wife, mother, grandmother and American.