IF ONLY
I cannot help but pine, if only I had the opportunity to dance at my cousin’s wedding in St. Petersburg on August 23, 2023. My Cousin Natalia (See "It’s Sad," at sharonmarkcohen.com, dated July 16, 2024) was there and sent me the photograph via email.
Unfortunately, I never met any of those cousins. They are so closely related to me that I see family resemblances and wish ever so much that we were within arm’s reach. The man on the left is my second cousin, Yakov. He and I were born one year apart. His wife is on the right and they are flanking their new daughter-in-love and their son, Vlad. Yakov is Natalia’s uncle, and Vlad is her first cousin.
Perhaps you guessed from their given names that the wedding took place in St. Petersburg, Russia, not the city in Florida with the same name. Based on their appearance, attire, and the stature of the building behind them, anyone would think the wedding was for a couple in the United States.
On the very day of my cousin’s wedding in Russia, I received an email from a friend who shares a Chudnov, Ukraine, ancestry with me and with my cousins living in Russia.
“Wed, Aug 23, 2023 6:51 PM (14 hours ago)
to me
Hi Sharon,
I reconnected with a cousin that I hadn’t seen in more than 25 years.
She told an interesting story about Chudnov. This would have had to take place on or before 1913.
Apparently Russian soldiers came to the town with instructions to kill the Jews. A soldier with a gun came to my grandparents house and ordered everyone to lie on the floor to be killed. My grandfather instructed the youngest child to lie on the ground first with the older child on top of her, my grandmother next and my grandfather on top. (Presumably hoping that any bullet would not penetrate everyone). However, before he could shoot, the soldier heard a whistle from outside and needed to leave to respond to the whistle. He departed, saying “Jew, you get to live another day.” My grandparents made immediate plans to leave for the United States, my grandfather first, in 1913 followed by my grandmother and aunts who were trapped in Russia during WW 1 and part of the Russian Revolution and lived in London before coming to the US.
Since the story involves life in Chudnov for Jewish people, I thought I should pass this on to you.
Best regards,
Jean”
Jean’s informative email clarified why we never got to know our cousins in other parts of the world. While my grandparents made their way to America, a branch of our family chose a different path out of the hells of Chudnov, where we still have cousins living today. After escaping and living in hiding during WWII, only a few of our relatives returned to the war-torn land of our roots.
The current state of the world dictates why we could not attend our cousin’s wedding. Yet, we are fortunate to continue communicating with those living in Chudnov and parts of Russia.
P.S. Cousin Yakov was a restaurateur in Leningrad. The food at the wedding must have been scrumptious.
P.S.S. Wishing that our “Unknown” cousins will be celebrating many happy anniversaries and that someday, somehow, our paths will cross. I can feel the hugs.