Perhaps it was that we didn't get to do much sight-seeing—well, really, none! Or that we officially had to visit two full sets of relatives for the first time. In any event, this trip seemed all about relatives and friends, new and old. One of the reasons we picked our particular travel dates was so that Silvija could be in Latvia for her niece's Kristine's birthday. More than that, Kristine is also Silvija's god-daughter. And Latvians take being god-parents very seriously.

When my own father passed away when I was seven, my godfather, Atis Grunde–a painter just like my dad, and his friend from academy days–came over once a week after finishing up work. I still remember fondly going to the local Scandanavian deli a couple of blocks away in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn—fresh french bread, an assortment of cold cuts, cole slaw, potato salad (which I eventually developed a taste for!), and potato chips in their crinkly wax-paper bag. I learned to fish from him as well—his last summer, my dad had gone upstate to paint and fish for a week and had planned to take us all up the following summer. That fell to my godfather as well. Casting for pike, bobbing for perch, or setting tip-ups through the ice on a frozen Lake Champlain—or just visting on the weekend out on Long Island and fishing for flounder in Port Washington—I owed all these experiences to my godfather. And my love of kisels (a sweet Latvian fruit stew), now that was my godmother's, Erika's fault—she made the best ever!