Pozegnalny Stash

I just got an email from my Mom. My uncle Stanley passed away about an hour ago. He was my Dad's oldest brother, and probably the closest relative to me outside of my own little nuclear family.

He was the one that gave me my first job, hauling hay for him when I was 14. (Yeah, I've got my country roots). He used to sit down with me, give me beer and we'd tell each other dirty jokes for hours.

He was also the first one to teach me Polish. Not really how to speak it, that was my Great-Aunt Julie's mission in life. He taught me some words, quite a few of them I could use in mixed company.

It's not too much a surprise, he's had major health issues for decades. But the upsetting story is all to similar. After I moved away we lost touch. I missed my chance to let him know that I loved him these last few years.

And for that, I'm Glupszy niz ustawa przewiduje.

Love you, Stash. Jeżeli nie ma żadnego piwa w Raju, witają Szatan dla mnie.