Polish Cowboy 1945-2010

He was a hard drinking, family loving, card dealing, fishing fool of a man. Yesterday he lost his battle with cancer ripping a hole in my wife's heart. I can't give you the full measure of the man but I can give you snapshots...

Sitting across from him trying not to wilt under his stare as he idly, expertly worked a fishing reel in his hands that I had brought him, making up his mind on how this was goinna go. I'm there to marry his daughter and like all fathers he's not too keen on the idea but he also has to deal with the fact that I'm about to take her half a world away. I've tried to make sure to live up to his and more importantly my wife's expectations on that particular gift.

Realizing that he understood far more English than he let on.

His love of cards, particularly Bridge and the casual way he could calculate odds and skillfully play to them.

His ability on that red clay in Poland to repeatedly hand me my ass in tennis, and chess.

Listening to the screen door slam shut at the cottage at six or so in the morning as he headed to the lake to fish, shortly followed by my five year old son's pounding down the stairs to join him.

Observing during his visits to the US his utter lack of fear, just getting up for his morning walk and going out into an alien environment to see it. So what if he can't converse? This was one of the greater lessons he gave me. Receiving a phone call from him when he had to drive my car into a pile of gravel because the brakes failed, asking him where he was and hearing, "I don't know."

His love of westerns and desire for a cowboy hat. After he got sick we scrambled to get him one and his happiness at receiving it. Wearing it at "The Ranch" what they call their cottage in Poland.

Trying to convince severely hungover me to drink a bit more vodka the morning after I got way too drunk at my brother in law's wedding to take the edge off. That didn't happen.

When it came to fishing, the man could pull a seven pound striped bass from a glass of water.

His smile, laugh, love of life, love of people. He was a Polish cowboy and like a cowboy he went down swinging. His name was Wincenty Boguslaw Strukiel but we called him Dziadek Bo (Grandpa Bo).

I love you Dziadek Bo, go with God.