For My Polish Heart A short story by Katy Carr
Many days have come and gone and I sit here still lamenting you….
You. My life, my heartbeat, my partner, my one and only true Love.
The flowers they scream and the trees they bleed dark pastel colours for the loss of your Love.
Even the birds can’t sing and I have lost my voice.
But you had to go. You had to loosen your handgrip on our Love.
You had to take someone else’s hand and be lead to the other side of the forest.
And its so sad. For our Love can not breathe under these circumstances.
But that’s life. That’s life.
>…………
I know we have to follow our paths.
We have to choose from 360 degrees. Life is like a circle and it has so many angles and choices.
There are sunsets, people and situations that can blow your mind.
There are people who can melt your heart and who taste sweeter than honey.
There are forests that can hide even the deepest of secrets.
There are colours so bright they can blind you, stars so distant they can lose you.
There are so many choices.
But that’s life. That’s life.
>………..
In my world I wanted to discover these choices with you.
I wanted a universe and a world with you forever.
That would have been enough i know.
But you told me you needed to risk our Love and make a choice and the choice was yours.
And that choice was to follow the white powder mistress.
How she pricked your nerves with her youth, her laughter and her ginger haired beauty.
How you saw fascination in her green eyes greener that the moss on Edinburgh’s Arthur’s Seat.
And so you forgot. You forgot our love.
>…………
I tried to be strong, i tried to be there I tried to keep you close so you couldn’t leave.
I locked all the doors to the house and tried to keep you inside.
But you couldn’t hear me you were deaf, dumb and blind in love with her.
You broke the locks and kicked the doors open.
And you left
And so you forgot. You forgot our love.
You forgot how much I loved you
And I cried a river of tears for our Love.
>…………..
So it is now one year later to the day you told me you had slept under the hawthorn bush.
It is Autumn and the leaves are falling again. And life is peddling on it’s eternal journey of discovering and reawakening.
And I have come home, back to my Mother Poland to mend my broken heart.
I ask Poland ‘Please help me. I am alone and I cannot stand it. I no longer wish to cry for this loss .
I want to be free again to walk the earth without a continual haze.
I want to fly so high in the sky and so that I never have to land.
I want to laugh louder than the largest bear in the forest.
I want to holler so hard that even the  silver wolf wishes he could howl like me.’
And so I sit and listen. I watch for a sign.
So I sit by the lake in Bialowieza Palace Park.
I sit and I watch the colour of the water.
It’s dark and it moves gently in rhythm with the insects.
And I remember our Love.
I remember how you whispered in my ears as I slept telling me that you would never leave me, that I was the most beautiful girl in the world, that you were becoming the man you always wanted to be, that you loved me more than all the sweetest berries and I felt more alive and safe and protected than I had ever done in the whole of my life. It was us and the world. We were one. We were together.
I remember holding your hand and walking into the forest.
I remember the cold air but it was ok because YOU were there.
I remember us watching for beavers and dreaming of our home -dreaming of the children we would have one day.
I remember you walking to this very spot I am standing in now and holding me so close and saying how you felt so alive. So Alive with our Love.
And so I begin to cry again. I begin to lament our love again and again. My mind plays somersaults in my mind and I am left with a million ghosts pulling me in all directions.
And I wait for a sign.I wait and finally I hear a voice.
And my beloved Poland says to me….
‘Go find the driest stone in the stone yard. The one that can absorb the most water. I want you to cry so hard that you cover it with your tears and if it dries you cry harder for it must drip with your tears in dew.’
So I go and I find a stone that is so dry is cuts my hand. I hold it tight and I cry hard into it.
It dries immediately so I cry some more and some more. Still it doesn’t wetten.
After a while it becomes to be moist.
Poland says ‘keep it wet with your tears just a little longer and whisper what you want to say to your Love. Kiss the stone hold it so tight and when you are ready throw it into the lake. Remember this moment.’
So I heed the advice and follow my heart’s voice. I whisper and cry and whisper and cry.
I hold the stone so tight and I tell my Love how much I Love him and eventually I release the stone with it’s secrets into the water and it falls to the bottom of the lake.
Poland says … ‘Good daughter. You have done as I have instructed and so you will now be spares of your grief and you will cry no more tears. Now this lake will cry for you and your Love. You are a great daughter of mine and I will see to it that you are Loved again one day. If your Love returns and wants you back he must first prove his love find this stone at the bottom of the Lake. He will recognise it because it has grown larger that the largest sponge in the world. He must rip it from the roots and bring it to the surface so that it can return all the Lake’s tears. He must wring it so dry that it becomes the driest stone in the stoneyard again and he must vow never to leave you again. You are to leave Mother Poland knowing that you are truly loved and you must find happiness in Father Britain for it is time for strength building now and no more lamenting. You must find your voice and sing so sweetly that even the lakes in Great Britain cry through pure Joy! You must be strong now because you have work to do with regards being responsible, honouring and realising your abundant gifts and godly talents.’
And so I listen and then the Willow Tree tells Poland ‘I will see to it that the lake weeps all the tears for Katy now. My weeping branches will monitor any changes in density and report back. The tears for this Love will remain here forever more. ‘
I watch the final ripples from my stone on the surface of the lake go to stillness. The air is cold. The sun is setting. It is near nightfall and I am hungry. I hear my friend calling and I leave the spot. I look back only once and I see the weeping Willow Tree and the black dark lake for the final time. They look sad and tired. I know it will be a long night as they start to support their new friend Dry Stone.  There is a light ahead and I see my friend preparing supper. We are to have mushrooms of the forest and a platter of cold Polish meats. I know I will be looked after. I receive a great big hug and I feel warm. I sit by the open fire and stare into the flames. The wood smoke gently scents my clothes. I see the stars shining brightly through the window. The air is crystal clear and I start to hum. It is a tune from old Poland a Polish folklore tune. I know from this instance my voice is returning and that my Polish Heart will sing once more….I start to sing for my Polish Heart

Sto lat, sto lat niech żyją, żyją nam
Sto lat, sto lat niech żyją, żyją nam
Jeszcze raz, jeszcze raz
Niech żyją, żyją nam
Niech żyją nam.

Niech im gwiazdka pomyślności
Nigdy nie zagaśnie,
nigdy nie zagaśnie,
A kto z nami nie zaśpiewa,
Niech pod stołem zaśnie.
A kto z nami nie zaśpiewa,
Niech pod stołem zaśnie.

Sto lat, sto lat, sto lat,
Sto lat niechaj żyją nam, hej
Sto lat, sto lat, sto lat,
Sto lat niechaj żyją nam.

Niech żyją nam, niech żyją nam,
W zdrowiu, szczęściu, pomyślności
Niechaj żyją nam.
Niech żyją nam, niech żyją nam,
W zdrowiu, szczęściu, pomyślności
Niechaj żyją nam.

Sto lat, sto lat, sto lat niech żyją nam,
Jeszcze jeden i jeszcze raz
Sto lat, sto lat niech żyją nam
Sto lat, sto lat, sto lat niech żyją nam, i już.

Share:
2 Comments
  1. vanessa says:

    What a beautiful and heartfelt story Katy… thank you for sharing your life with us.

  2. vanessa says:

    thank you for sharing your polish heart with us!

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*