Uncle Borys reached the blessed age of 96, and he died on Christmas Day, a time that has ever been connected with him in my mind because he was the one who taught me to say Merry Christmas in Polish the very first time we met. I still don't know much more Polish than Wesołych Świąt Bożego Narodzenia. I'm a bit sad that I never got to sing a gorgeous Polish Taize chant for him... but I'm sure he can hear it in heaven, where I'm betting he's waiting for his lovely wife, Aunt Albina to join him. They were married for 72 years.
His life was the stuff of stories. He was born in Deniskowicze, Poland, and loved his hometown , painting a picture of it years later from memory. But when he was 15, in a land grab, the Soviets deported him and his family to a work camp in Siberia. Finding themselves in need of soldiers in World War II, the Soviets allowed 16-year-old Borys to join General Wladyslaw Anders' army of Polish men called from across the region, which left Russia through Kazakhstan and trained with the British in Iraq, eventually fighting with them at the Battle of Monte Cassino in Italy. Polish soldiers were the ones to finally take the Monastery that was the strategic point in the battle, hoisting their flag over it so everyone knew the allies had broken through. Uncle Borys was a quiet war hero -- I only recently learned about his military career.
When the war ended, Uncle Borys managed to emigrate to Alberta, where he met Aunt Albina and found work as a handyman who could fix or build almost anything. He had many different jobs because of his skills, and eventually became the head supervisor of maintenance for Lethbridge Catholic Schools. He and Aunt Al had two children and three grandchildren, and loved them all very well. The couple loved to travel, visiting Poland many times, and they golfed well into their eighties.
Uncle Borys's forest stream |
Rest in peace, Uncle Borys -- I look forward to seeing you again. Bożego Narodzenia -- may it be your most joyous New Year yet!
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