A Long and Remarkable Life

A tribute to my late father-in-law

Aug 02, 2024

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A week ago today, we buried my father-in-law, Leszek Wolfram, in Łódź, Poland. He shares his final resting place with Mati, his wife of 69 years who died in 2022, as well as her parents. The day before, we held his memorial service in Warsaw, where he spent his final 16 months.

I have struggled a lot the past two months to write with anything resembling a regular schedule, in large part due to Leszek’s illness, which began in late May. Since then, I’ve taken three trips from Milan to Poland, and I believe my husband took four or possibly even five. Leszek was, quite rightly, our primary focus. Nearly everything else simply had to wait.

Now he is gone, and we are back in Milan, attempting to resume some semblance of “normal” life. However, we have two long-planned international trips for family reasons over the next six weeks, the second of which will now conclude with a second memorial service for Leszek in San Francisco, a city he and Mati called home for most of the last two decades of their lives.

I do intend to get back to publishing here more regularly as soon as I can, though I anticipate these family commitments will make that a bit challenging until we’re back for good in mid-September.

In the meantime, below are the thoughts I shared last week at the funeral. It was a beautiful service, and a fitting tribute to his life.

My head knows that we were very lucky to have him for so long; not many people born in 1929 are still alive, much less still intellectually sharp! But my heart feels it was simply not long enough. Life is just so short—even if you live to 95.

A photo I took of Leszek this past February, on his 95th birthday

Hello, my name is Michael. I am married to Leszek and Mati's younger son, Andrew. I am sorry this is in English, but I do not speak Polish.

I really only got to know Leszek well in the last 12 years. I consider myself very fortunate that, even though Andrew and I got married later in life, both he and Mati were still with us and I had over a decade to get to know and love them.

Leszek touched many lives. We have a fairly small group gathered today; that is partly because many of his family and friends live far from here, around Europe and in the United States and Australia. But it’s also because, when you are 95, you have outlived many of the people dearest to you.

~~~~~

Much of what I said at Mati’s memorial service two years ago could also be said today, because it is nearly impossible to think of Leszek without also thinking of Mati. Theirs was a true partnership, if ever there was one. As we say in America, they were "two peas in a pod.”

Like Mati, Leszek lived not only a long life, but a remarkable one. He was a kind, gentle, smart, and funny soul. He could also be stubborn; good luck to anyone trying to convince him that green asparagus was as good as white!

I believe Leszek was probably the most positive and optimistic person I’ve ever known. When Andrew and I would meet him and Mati for brunch, they would often say, “So, tell us something good that is happening!"

I always found his relentlessly upbeat outlook on life fascinating, partly because it is not my own natural state, but also because as a boy he had endured the horrors of the Nazi occupation of Poland, a conflict that had a severe impact on his family. When we were visiting him for his 95th birthday this past February, I asked him about this.

“Looking back,” I asked, "even though you didn’t have the language or terminology of ‘PTSD / Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder’ then, did you have ongoing trauma after the War was over? Were you plagued by depression, nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety?”

His response was immediate. “Oh no. We were all just so happy when the War ended that we celebrated in the streets and then moved forward with our lives!”

~~~~~

Leszek was a model of how to grow old with vigor and grace. He was active and engaged, with a zest for life, enjoying the arts, keeping up on current affairs.

He had a clear-eyed sense of right and wrong, especially when it came to political leaders. When he was hospitalized in grave condition in late May, he woke one morning and asked us, softly and with great effort, “Has the jury found Trump guilty yet?"

He was intellectually curious about nearly everything. He subscribed to The New York Times, The Economist, The New Yorker. He would often hand Andrew his copy and tell him there was a very interesting article in there he should read about any number of wide-ranging topics.

He loved to cook; his borscht is still the best I’ve had.

And Leszek loved to travel. When he and Mati were in their late 80s(!), they went on a month-long cruise that ended in late December. On Christmas Eve, they spent nearly 24 hours flying from South Africa to Dubai and then Dubai to San Francisco. They insisted that we have Christmas dinner with them the night they arrived home, but with much effort, we managed to convince them to delay the dinner by one day to give themselves time to rest and adjust. Looking back, I’m not sure they needed it.

That was Leszek: Go, go, go. He was even still driving the streets and hills of San Francisco at 94(!!).

~~~~~

I admired so much about him. There was something that I couldn’t quite put into words until just this last week: Leszek seemed entirely content with who he was and with his lot in life.

I had a moment alone with him on his last afternoon, and I told him through my tears that he had inspired me, and that I had learned a lot from him and the example he set. He gave me a little smile.

In his last hour or two, Andrew and I sat at his bedside. We showed him pictures of Mati and other family and friends. We quietly sang along with some of his favorite music (Simon & Garfunkel and Leonard Cohen). And then we held his hands and told him over and over how much he was loved as he slipped away.

The Way I See It

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