Found out I'm Jewish in my late 20's. Now what?

[Clqs]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

 

[unkownincel]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

dnr but good lucke u seemed cool

 

[larpcel]

Go claim what was promised to you 3000 years ago!

 

[ascend.exe]

dnr just tell me how jew you are.

 

[VrillFatNoob24]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

dnr
go own banks and lend me some

 

[iblamesh1]

 

[gimmedatacc]

die

 

[mogtivism]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

Congratulations, you may now secure a 0% interest rate loan of 2.5 million dollars at the nearest bank, to dedicate fully to growing a business and securing generational wealth. You’ve hit the jackpot.

 

[JohnDoe]

You go to your local synagogue where the rabbi uses his connections to set you up

 

[JohnDoe]

Congratulations, you may now secure a 0% interest rate loan of 2.5 million dollars at the nearest bank, to dedicate fully to growing a business and securing generational wealth. You’ve hit the jackpot.

This aswell

 

[foidletslayer]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

Control the world

 

[TheAncientMacedonia]

 

[dart44511]

So, here's the long version of the story. Growing up, I was raised primarily by my mother's parents, two very devoted Catholics. I knew a lot about my grandmother's family, that she was born in Yonkers, her parents were Catholics who came over from Ukraine, she had two sisters, etc. But virtually no information existed about my grandfather. When he died, even though I was the closest to him of all his children and grandchildren, he still did not tell me anything about his life prior to meeting my grandmother in New York. But to be fair to him, I was a teenager and didn't think to ask (but oh, I wish I would've).

Flash forward 9 years. In the time following my grandfather's death, life resumed as normal and when my grandmother became too rickety to safely live on her own, I moved back in with her (real talk: best roommate ever). One morning we were sitting at the kitchen table having our coffee before I left for work. I can't even tell you what we were talking about, but it was something benign. Out of nowhere, during a lull in conversation she goes, "You know you're Jewish?" My initial reaction was very, "...what?" Because like...what??? I pried further over the next week and got a little more information, but not much. It turns out my grandfather was not very forthcoming with my grandma about his life prior to living in New York, which isn't surprising, he was always an insanely private man. But now I'm left with all these gaps and wondering if there is actual validity to the story. All I was able to learn is that his parents were Jews from Poland and when he joined the army to fight in the war, he signed his paperwork as Catholic and never looked back. My grandma actually thought he was Catholic when they married and didn't find out otherwise until his brother's funeral some three decades later.

I brought this information to the rest of my family but was met with a pretty stern "leave it alone" reaction. So I did, because they are all very good and devoted Catholics. But, I've never stopped thinking about it. It was like a firework went off in my brain when my grandma told me, like somehow it made so much sense! It would be an understatement to say I don't think about it at least once a day.

It's been six year now since I found out. Despite my own inner conflict about the situation, I was pretty resigned to "I will never really know and my family wants to be Catholic, so I guess we are". But...now I'm pregnant, and I suddenly have this unbelievable urge to know, so that my child can know. I feel like not pursuing this properly is somehow doing them a disservice. I don't want them to feel cheated of this possible heritage as I have.

I guess as much as I want answers, I also want to just get it off my chest. So thank you for anyone and everyone that has read this post.

How do I move forward? I know literally nothing about Jewish culture or what it's like to be Jewish and have never even stepped foot in a synagogue. I don't know why, but quite honestly this whole venture has become terrifying to me-- Will I be welcome? What if I can't find answers? What if I can't prove his story? What if, what if, what if? Is there someone that I can speak to and ask these questions in person? I've looked into the local Jewish community since learning about my baby but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on how to reach out and I desperately do not want to offend.

Again, thank you very much to anyone who can offer any insight to this crazy ride called life!

just go get an israeli citizenship and run the world