I have enjoyed going back in my thoughts to my
childhood. I started to remember more and more. When I stop and travel in time,
I remember smells, colours, temperature of the air. This is a really nice
feeling. Typically for most of us some childhood events turned into
psychological hang-ups and complexes. Thinking back helps me to understand
myself better and some of the memories are really nice to think about. I
particularly like to think about my grandfather. I was once asked when did I
first feel loved. My grandpa came to mind immediately. He was a very special
man. At least I think so. I need to find out from the only surviving person,
who may know about it, what actually was the war he fought in and was declared
a hero. For now I believe that it must have been Polish Soviet war of 1919-1921.
My grandfather came out of the war in one piece but with very impaired hearing.
He met my grandmother at a ball organised by one of the most known and prominent
Lithuanian- Polish families Radziwill. My grandmother ran the school for
children of people working for the Radziwill family. She was at the Radziwill ball where my
grandfather noticed her as a very attractive young woman. He tried to dance
with her but she hesitated to accept him as a dance partner because of his
problems with hearing. Not very noble of her. The countess Radziwill noticed
the situation and called my grandma to tell the silly girl that she had refused
to dance with a war hero who had been fighting for Poland and had lost his hearing protecting the
country and that everybody owes him respect and admiration. It must have been a
convincing speech and a memorable dance that followed the rebuke as they
married soon after the ball.
 |
| The war pictures of the times do not shake of scare us much. Have we gone too far in sophistication and science of wars? |
I am not sure if my grandma always treated her
hero with due respect as she was a bossy person and this is how I remember her.
She bossed my grandpa around and he never protested or argued with her. This
does not mean he was a push over. Not at all. He did what he wanted to do,
maybe covertly, maybe in secret but he usually had his way.
My grandparents did not have natural children,
my mother was their adopted daughter and they loved her dearly. The affection
was then transferred to me and I felt very much loved by my grandfather. He was
a kind man, a softy, while my grandma was very energetic, no-nonsense person
who ruled the family.
As a child I did not like to eat. I am sorry it
belongs to the past now. My grandmother
challenge was to make me put on a couple of kilos during my stay in Sadowne, to
show that she takes care of me well. I remember times when I was given a bowl of cottage cheese with chives and
liberal amount of sour cream. All organic! The instruction was : You will not
leave the table until you finish. Boy,
it was a torture. The cottage cheese was growing in my mouth rather than moving
in the direction of the stomach. And I wanted to go to play! My kind
grandfather in such situations circulated between the room he worked in and the
backyard, passing the table where the little girl was having a fight with the
cottage cheese. He stopped at the table for a moment, stole a little of the
offensive cottage cheese from the bowl to help me out. I thought he was an
angel of mercy. Together we managed to present and empty bowl as a passport to
the yard, fields and play.
One had to love such a grandpa and feel loved.
