As most of you may know, I am Romanian. My father was born in the capital city and remained there until he was 16. He grew up in a cold environment enslaved by the communist government. My grandparents were born there in the 1920’s and didn’t make it to America until they were in their 50’s. They spent a majority of their life in fear and unaware of what freedom really meant. Making it to America was their escape and means to a better life. They left everything they had, family and all, in search for more.
Growing up in Colorado Springs I have always been surrounded by my mother’s family. In all, I have some 30+ family members within a short drive from my parent’s house, including 19 in my immediate family. We spend every holiday together, attend dance recitals and football games together, and even own businesses together. To say my family is close is definitely an understatement. We do life together, every bit of it, and it’s something I wouldn’t trade for the world.
Not trying to sound selfish, but having a family as amazing as my moms has also resulted in a deeper longing in me. Without knowing my dads family back in Romania, it has brought with it a great curiosity for what the other side is like. I’ve always wondered if there is something I am unfortunately missing out on.
When I was 9 I visited Romania with my dad, but I have a hard time deciphering weather or not if it’s the experience or the pictures I really remember. There are only a few experiences I can truly say I recall, but no faces or remembrance of the people my dad calls family. 16 years have passed since that trip, and I’ve always wondered what’s over there in Romania that’s so real and close to me, yet so far.
During October my squad spent the month together in Romania. While there was a lot to help the people with there, deep down there was something I needed help with. I needed answers I had longed for. I needed to find something that has always been missing in me. While “debriefing” from the first month, my team had the chance to spend the first 5 days of our month in Bucharest – the city my father was born and raised in.
An emotional time for me was when I visited where my dad grew up. I got to look around and appreciate the place that made the man that made me, while at the same time growing even more respect for him. His old home was an apartment complex made by the communist government. All the buildings looked the same with the only difference being the number on them. It was obvious to me that I was in an unfamiliar place, but something about it made me feel like it was apart of me. I took a moment to soak in the feeling, and I felt my heart change in a way I never have before.
My dad grew up there, but a majority of my family lives a couple of hundred miles to the northwest. While I’m grateful for the chance to see Bucharest, my eyes were set on visiting them. A seven hours bus ride was plenty of time to build up anxiety, fear, and intimidation, but as I walked off the bus those nerves turned into joy and excitement. I then walked down the street, counting down house numbers until I found the one I would be staying at.
Shortly after knocking on the door, there stood one of my grandpas cousins (in Romanian culture, my uncle). When he opened the door and saw me his eyes got big, he smiled, spoke Romanian to me, and gave me a hug full of kisses. Behind him were his wife (my aunt) and other cousins who greeted me the same way.
Just like back home, the rest of the relatives were just a short trip away. The next two days were full of walking around the village and meeting family members and friends I never knew I had. They all stared intently with a smile on their face, seemingly intrigued by the man that had been missing for so long. Every house I visited had a room waiting for me to stay in, and a table full of photos to show me the times I’ve missed out on over the years.
Even though I spent only 3 days with my newly discovered family, it’s safe to say I’ll be going back. Their love and friendship filled a place in me that only they could have filled. They were everything I could have hoped for and every bit as special as my family back home.
After coming to America and moving to Texas, my grandparents both got stable jobs and took on a form of the simple life. Living in a different state than them during a majority of my life took away from the chance we had to build a deep relationship, but they are people I’ve had the chance to become very fond of over the years, and I have great love and respect for them both.
Going into Romania I was thrilled for the chance to see where my dad came from and to learn more about my origins. But something I didn’t foresee was how much closer it would make my grandfather and I (it was his side of the family I visited). I learned more about him in those 3 days then I have in 25 years. I have a better understanding as to why he does some of the things he does and why he is the way he is. I saw pictures from years back of him and his friends having the time of their lives. Every friend (literally every person I saw) of his I met eagerly asked me how he was doing, when he was coming back to visit, and to tell him that he is missed and loved. I saw so much of the good in his heart all around me during my visit, and am beyond appreciative to God for placing such a wonderful man in my life.
Going back to my roots was a rare opportunity and has been just one of the many rare experiences God has placed in front of me so far on this journey. I’m thankful for this walk God has me on, and I encourage all of you to discover what it is your heart desires too.
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”
– Psalm 37:4
To my supporters, spiritually, emotionally, and financially, thank you for helping make this dream possible for me. Your love leaves me in awe everyday and I’m so blessed to have you all in my life.
