Eulogy for Mirek
Eulogy for Mirek
by Dylan Popowicz
For those of us who were close to my father, we know of the struggles such a short, four-letter world could hold. Perfect love—that’s all he ever wanted. Many of us take for granted the meaning of the word, never questioning its implications, the philosophy of the heart; never thinking beyond our simple understandings afforded to us by our societies, families and friends. For us it can be enough to say “I love you.” “I love you,” as if truth was to be found in a series of abstract sounds and symbols.
But my father knew better—he knew that one had to give oneself up to the all-encompassing reality of love, the spiritual machine that Cohen refers to as “the only engine of survival.” Love has to be put before anything else.
Because of this quest for perfection, one that my father pursued like a brave knight through the dark ages of our modern world, I often felt belittled, or unsure, in the face of such a vast and powerful force—only to find myself rapidly wrestled into his arms with an incomprehensible love bestowed upon me . . . he would always give his all.
For our inability to understand, he suffered. At times I imagine his pain and suffering must have been his only proof of existence, his only consolation for a world that forever bewildered him.
He sought perfection, more so than any man I have ever known. More importantly: he viewed the world from a point of perfection. . . .
Art was never the goal—but to live life artfully. Philosophy was senseless bickering, “conceptual bullshit”—but he lived philosophically. And spirituality was void without that loving spirit that my father put into everything he did—even in the simple act of watering his plants.
We’d all be lucky to witness such magic again.
Our loss, however, is his eternal gain:
He would often tell me: “I am homeless. I have always been homeless. A refugee from the day I was born.” Now, we can smile at the thought that he has finally found his “home.” After fifty-nine years, he has peace at last. No man deserves it better than he.