Maciek

Always somebody there with a smile. You look like some replica of the grandpa in one of Roald Dahl's tales. Yeah, the one with a moustache and long silver hair, the one who explodes with joy when something good happens. You had a warm manner. Friendly, talkative, helpful. One of the hospital faces. Yeah, yours will burn brighter for longer, I do not doubt. You have been released by now, I should hope. I wish you well, Maciek. It's so easy to not care, when people like you appear it is like some grandiose event. It should not be so, but your beauty is evident. Thank you for loving strangers, thank you for your heart, I hope it never slips from your sleeve. There are others who are not, but you fill the holes they leave gaping. Completing each other's gaps, and even those of others.

You will never see these words, I imagine, but nevertheless they are sent to you. I hope they soar the skies and enter your home through an open window. That they then lay down beside you and embrace you, giving you some peace and love. The smallest gestures so grand. Open your heart, and be. I hope you are looked after. Thank you. That is all I have.