(…)
Krzysztof often talked about death. Not jokingly, always seriously. He was talking about it ever since they first met. And it happened when they were both in primary school. Patrycja was 13, he was 15. They became a couple already at that early stage. One day she returned home all agitated and said that Krzysio said that he would not live long and when he dies the whole Poland will come to his funeral. In May 2007, generals, politicians, officials and policemen came to his funeral and there were honorary salutes. They came to say goodbye to a thirty-year-old policeman who died in a car crash several days before. It was a chase, he wanted to catch burglars who had robbed a store.
(…)
Every time he returned from work he would tell us what happened. He was all shaken up when he intervened at homes where children were beaten up and maltreated. Other times it happened that someone drew a knife or axe at him or he was chasing someone and had a car block his way. He said that he saw death many times and repeated that he might not return from work. He told Patrycja where to bury him.
(…)
Zosia doesn’t remember her dad, she was slightly over two months old when he died. Anielka doesn’t remember him either. Zosia only knows the story of her dad. Anielka started to talk very late, when her dad died she could only say “mum” and “dad”. However, she was always fluent in sign language. During the first weeks after his death, right after she woke up she would say: dad? When her grandma told her that daddy was in heaven, she jumped out of bed and sprang to the balcony window. She looked into the sky, waved her hand as if she wanted to call her dad.
The fragments come from the book “To be mature enough for death” by Magdalena and Maksymilian Rigamonti.
Aniela is 13 today, Zosia is 11. They have been under our care since 2014.
