Two years without my father

Two years ago today, my father died, at the age of 96. I have dreamed of him more often than anybody else; keeping a dream diary since 1 January, I can see the frequency with which he appears. One dream in particular, and one event gives me something to ponder.

On 14 May this year, I dreamt of a bazaar in Ursynów; it's just about to start raining, the clouds are very dark and threatening; people in their summer clothes are hurrying home. The bazaar - a collection of stalls and booths - is surrounded on two sides by blocks of flats. A young man is pushing a pushchair, in which sits an infant boy. The boy's father looks after him, because the mother has a high-powered job in a banking corporation. That boy, I dreamt, was the reincarnation of my father.

On 6 October this year, I was in Ursynów, and passing the bazaar in Kabaty, I noticed a young man pushing a boy, between a year-and-half and two years old, in a pushchair. [I mentioned this here.] Is this my father reincarnated? I know that he'd have wanted to be; to see what happens next in the story of mankind, to grow in understanding, to live in his beloved Warsaw once again... 

It is comforting, reassuring, to think that traces of my father's consciousness, his deepest memories of pre-war Poland and post-war England, will continue to exist, albeit in an intangible form. 

Following his death, I was in Ealing often sorting out matters (would you believe the transfer of the title deeds of his house have still not been sorted out; the Land Registry estimates this will be completed in January next year, and there I was moaning about the six months it took for the court in Grójec to transfer the deeds of my działka after I bought it...). My last trip to Ealing was in March 2020; I returned to Warsaw and lockdown; since then I haven't been to the UK, and frankly, until the pandemic is well-and-truly over, I won't be going. Too many friends and colleagues have been caught out by expensive tests, quarantine hotels and other costly indignities. 

In the last two years of his life, I'd visit my father every month, typically staying a week in Ealing. The cost of these flights in CO2 emissions were about the same as if I owned a large SUV and drove it 20,000km each year. I no longer need to travel to London, and shall be seeking greener alternatives. A kilometre of train travel emits eight times less CO2 than does air travel, so with the reopening of a Warsaw-Brussels rail connection, I shall be exploring that alternative.

This time last year:
A year without my father

This time two years ago:
Death of my father

This time four years ago
Recent Jeziorki update

This time five years ago:
Autumn in Jeziorki

This time six years ago:
A driving ban for developers and architects

This time seven years ago:
Do you keep coming back, or do you seek the new?

This time eight years ago:
In praise of Retro design

This time nine years ago:
First snowfall in Warsaw 

This time ten years ago:
Of cycles, economic and human 

This time 11 years ago:
Why didn't I read this before? Grapes of Wrath

This time 12 years ago:
Małopolska from the train