Memories of my Grandparents

Today we celebrate in Poland Grandmother's Day, tomorrow - Grandfather's Day.
I'm not that lucky to have any of my Grandparents around anymore.

My Grandpas passed away earlier and my Grandmas slowly followed. 

My Grandparents from my Mum's side lived in a small town and grew the most delicious raspberries in the world. I still remember spending half of my summer holidays hidden in the raspberry shrubs on one of their allotments and searching for ripe fruit. Raspberries are my favourite fruit until now. Grandma also baked the best poppyseed cake ever. We ate it only for Christmas and it felt very special, waiting the whole year to taste it. I'm trying to learn to bake this poppyseed cake for a couple of years now and I'm sure I will never reach my Grandma's abilities on this score. I used to spend the most wonderful moments of my childhood and early youth at their home, always open for me and my Parents. Long walks by the river, spending all days long on their allotments and taking care of my Grandpa's rabbits. I will always keep these memories with me.

My Grandparents from my Dad's side met at a winter sportcamp and kept a long distance relationship at first, writing letters to each other. My Grandma sailed very well and my Grandpa trained boys to lift weights. They both skied as well. They spent one Christmas holidays in the mountains, when my Dad was a little boy. The winter was severe there, and their hut turned out to be enourmously cold. So my Grandpa skied through the blizzard to far away town to look for another accomodation, while my Grandma and my Dad waited for him under the blankets. He returned after many hours, smiling and happy, as he found another hut. They left for the town, my Grandma wearing her rucksack and helping my Dad through the snowdrifts and my Grandpa lifting 3 pairs of skies and 2 rucksacks (without complaining about it!).

 It's difficult for me to accept that all my Grandparents' stories, sometimes unbelievable, sometimes upraising, sometimes sad and terrifying, but always interesting, to which I had been listening for hours, are never going to be told again. Not in the way my Grandparents used to tell them. And some of them, never told, are now lost forever. I'm grateful for each and every one of them and I will keep them with me through life. They carry a meaning and wisdom along, and helped me to find my way in difficult situations I've gone through. Thank you.

Why I chose this photo for this day? It shows my Dad's Mother room and I took this photo a couple of weeks before she passed away. She was very sick. I didn't understand it then, but after she was gone, I suddenly felt the atmosphere of peaceful waiting for something, which is doomed to come and acceptance of it, while looking at the photo.

Roots

I visited Paris for the first time in my life around New Year's Eve 2019/2020 and I planned to show you some photos taken by me while exploring it. I was stopped for a while however. Some things I noticed during my short stay in this beautiful city of breath-taking architecture, in this splendid city adored by so many people, made me stop and think. Think a lot indeed.

I honestly do think it's good, even necessary to visit foreign countries, see new places, appreciate

foreign cultures and their heritage, respect other people. I myself studied in three different countries abroad - Czech Republic, Denmark and UK - and what a great experience for me it was. Now for over a year I live and work in England. Such experience just can't be overestimated.

But what happens if you forget where your roots lie? What will become of you if you relish something, that will always remain strange to you, too much and without a thought? 

You may say that living abroad  I've become too sentimental about my home country. I don't think it's true. What I actually think is - it's good to know your roots and your value anywhere you happen to live. And to show this value to the world. Not to be ashamed of it. Because this is where you come from and it will never change.

* * *

Na przełomie minionego i bieżącego roku odwiedziłam po raz pierwszy w życiu Paryż i bardzo chciałam Wam tutaj pokazać zdjęcia, które zrobiłam, zwiedzając to piękne miasto wspaniałej architektury i zabytków, to znakomite miasto, zachwycające tak wielu ludzi. Coś mnie jednak zatrzymało na moment, a kilka spostrzeżeń z mojego krótkiego tam pobytu zmusiły mnie do przemyślenia pewnych kwestii.

Naprawdę szczerze uważam, że dobrze jest podróżować i poznawać nowe kraje, nowe miejsca, doceniać obcą kulturę, traktować z szacunkiem ludzi spoza własnego kraju. Sama studiowałam w trzech krajach poza Polską - w Czechach, Danii i UK - i było to wspaniałe doświadczenie. Teraz od ponad roku żyję i pracuję z Anglii. Takie doświadczenie jest po prostu nie do przecenienia. 

Ale co będzie wówczas, gdy zapomnisz o swoich korzeniach? Co się z Tobą stanie, kiedy zachłyśniesz się ponad miarę czymś, co zawsze pozostanie obce dla Ciebie?

Możecie pomyśleć, że przebywając za granicą stałam się sentymentalna w kwestii mojego kraju, ale nie sądzę, by tak było. Myślę natomiast, że dobrze jest znać swoje korzenie i swoją wartość, gdziekolwiek byśmy się nie znaleźli. I mieć odwagę, aby tę wartość pokazać światu, a nie wstydzić się jej. Ponieważ to, skąd pochodzimy, nigdy się nie zmieni.

And believe me, the world will appreciate it :)

I uwierzcie, że świat to doceni :)

PS.
Above photos were taken by me during my trips to my beloved Bialskie Mountains in my home country, Poland, featured in Photo Vogue.

Zdjęcia zostały zrobione przeze mnie podczas wypadów w moje ukochane Góry Bialskie i Masyw Śnieżnika, opublikowane w Photo Vogue.