30 reasons to stay || piszczek

reason nine

15 June 2017.

Lukasz always wanted to be a father.

You could see it in his eyes—the way he looked at his young nieces and nephews, interacting with them, hell, even just by hearing their broken words and giggles. They seemed to so precious to him, so pure. He wanted some of his own.

That was what ran through his head as he watched his four year old nephew, Andrzej, hand him some sort of contraption made red and green Legos.

"Did you make this yourself, Andrzej?"

"Tak!" The youngster gleamed. He handed his uncle a handful of Legos. "Can you build a dog?"

Lukasz chuckled. "I don't know if I can do that, but I'll try, buddy."

Christ, the man wanted children of his own.

He wanted little mini versions of him running around his house and asking him to play dress up. He wanted to put them for nap time, teach them how to play football, and come home to them after a long day at training. He wanted to see them at his matches, wearing little sizes of his jersey.

Of course, under the condition that Rosie be the mother of his children.

All the time, she would always say that she would be a "bad mother," but Lukasz thought she'd be a great mother. He sees how awe-struck she is watching him play with Andrzej as she sits on the couch on the opposite side of where the niece, Malina, sat, her eyes glued onto the television in front of her.

They flew into Poland the same day—Lukasz getting a call from his brother, Marek, about their father coming home from the hospital. Papa Piszczek was in the hospital for a number of health issues, but his homecoming was something Lukasz was looking forward to. Not to mention that he hasn't seen his parents and brothers in forever.

As Marek left to bring the Piszczeks home from the hospital, Rosie and Lukasz were left to babysit his children in the meantime.

Still a good eight years later, Rosie still does not know how to speak or understand Polish. She tried, she really did. It was the lack of free time that stood in her way.

So when we watched her boyfriend play with his nieces and nephews, she could only smile at the sight rather than the words.

Rosie laughed as she watched Lukasz finish building his "dog" (looked more like a giraffe) and gave it to Andrzej.

"Uncle Lukasz, that's not a dog. That's a bear!" Or a bear, in Andrzej's perspective.

"Wha—no, it's a dog. See, Andrzej, it has the legs, the snout—" Lukasz pointed at the parts on his "dog" before turning to face Rosie. "Don't you that this clearly is a dog?"

"I don't know, Luka. Looks awfully like a giraffe."

He sighed in disbelief and looked at the ceiling. "How am I supposed to be a dad if I don't know how to build with Legos?"

"Are you and Aunt Rosie having a baby?" Malina asked.

Oh, in his dreams.

In her mind, she wasn't ready to have children yet. In his, she didn't want children.

Rosie knew nothing about being around children. She grew up as an lonely child to a troubled mother and a father who left without a word. The closest she's been to is staying over at a friend's house who had a baby sister, fourteen years ago.