by Adam Mikrut, 12/7/2024

Good Afternoon

Thank you for all gathering here and online today to mourn our loss and celebrate Marcin’s life. We’re here to honor a man who touched our lives in different ways and leaves a lasting legacy.

Marcin was many things: a loving son, a steadfast brother, a devoted husband, a proud father, a successful entrepreneur, and, to me, a cousin who became more like a brother than any label could convey.

Born in Poland, he grew up alongside his younger brother Lucaz. Marcin was the son of Edward—who, heartbreakingly, passed away less than a month ago—and his mother, Basia, who is in Poland today, endures the greatest heartbreak any Mother could bear, saying goodbye to one of the sons.  

For Marcin, “family” was not just a word but a guiding force. He was a devoted husband to Elwira and the proud father of his bright, energetic eight-year-old daughter, Sofija. His love for them truly knew no bounds. In witnessing how he cared for and showed kindness to my daughter when she was a little girl, I always knew he would be an exceptional father. He was an amazing dad.

In 1992, at just 16 years old, Marcin came from Poland to live with my family in Atlanta, Georgia, carrying only a tennis racket and his dreams. As an only child, I wasn’t thrilled to share my world with him, and my jealousy quickly peaked. One day on the tennis courts with Marcin and my dad, Marcin unleashed a painful overhead that hit me right where it hurt the most. It was an unforgivable incident. From that moment, I vowed to return that strike. Eventually, things cooled off. We trained hard, pushed each other, and celebrated our victories; we fought like cats and dogs, as brothers would. Over time, our lives became intertwined like the strings of a racket—each weave tighter, stronger, and more resilient because of the other.

After college, Marcin moved to North Carolina and eventually returned to Poland, drawn by a sense of responsibility for his parents’ well-being. Yet every year, he returned to the U.S. for a few weeks. Each reunion felt as though he’d never left. We would always have a solo dinner, stay up late talking, and exchange stories as if we had been apart only a day rather than months or the whole year.

In 2020, as Covid swept the globe, Marcin made another bold move back to the U.S., settling in Sarasota, Florida. This move wasn’t about him—this choice was deeply purposeful. He aimed to give Sofija the environment she needed to become a remarkable tennis player. Unlike Poland, Sarasota offered ample warmth, sunshine and plenty of tennis courts. He wanted her to have the same opportunities he’d received and more. That was Marcin: always striving, building, and investing solely in the future of Elwira and Sofjia.

But Marcin’s life wasn’t defined solely by tennis. After graduating from Appalachian State University on a tennis scholarship, he built a remarkable career in direct marketing. In 2007, he founded Customer Maker—a venture that was far more than a paycheck to him; it was his passion. Through countless phone calls, long hours, and relentless determination, he became a master at building relationships and helping clients thrive. When I got involved in the business this February, it became crystal clear what kind of businessman he truly was: he never took advantage of anyone for financial gain.

As you all know, Marcin, in different ways, had many layers. He was fiercely competitive, sarcastically witty, and stubbornly determined. He was a charmer and definitely a ladies man. His humor could be biting, and his comebacks were swift and memorable, too memorable and harsh at times.

He wouldn’t back down from a challenge—physical, emotional, on the court, or off. These traits might have seemed prideful or flawed (and got him in trouble a few times), but they were part of the mosaic that made him who he was. Ironically, these very qualities gave him the fortitude to face brain cancer, just as he had faced so many tests before.

Throughout his battle with cancer, Marcin was carried by the outpouring of love, prayers, and encouragement surrounding him. He was humbled and grateful for every single day. And then when he saw me, he would still roll his eyes as if to say, “You again?” with that sarcastic smile. It was clear: Marcin never stopped being Marcin.

I want to acknowledge something difficult: the diagnosis impacted Marcin’s brain in ways none of us could fully understand. We don’t know when it all began, but if he ever said something hurtful or acted out of character in the year leading up to discovery, it was a good chance it was the tumor—not the true Marcin—speaking. Please forgive those moments and remember the man whose heart was full of life & love.

Throughout my life, I never saw Marcin cry – no way, not him. Then came the moment when he witnessed extraordinary kindness from people he barely knew. Strangers, acquaintances, and distant friends stepped forward with donations and support. In the New Testament, the book of Hebrews tells us, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Indeed, that was true for Marcin. His humble kindness to others in the past led to surprise donations that made uninsured procedures possible. He never could fully comprehend that people like this truly existed in the world. His response every time, tears of joy.

To Sofija, you know how deeply your dad loved you. You were his brightest star, his driving force. He gave you everything he had. Whenever you miss him, close your eyes and see him, open your heart and feel him, pray to God, and listen for him. He is your guardian angel now, guiding you, smiling upon you, and loving you always.

To the Rest of Us, while we feel the weight of sorrow today, let us not be consumed by it. In truth, we should feel the same as a verse in the song

“Jealous of the Angels“

Your love lives on inside of me
And I will hold on tight
It’s not my place to question
Only God knows why
I’m just jealous of the angels
Around the throne tonight

As a result of this journey and new reality, I now realize how often I took my relationship with Marcin for granted. I learned to cherish every moment we shared—others did as well. In witnessing his struggle, I began listening more deeply, being present without judgment, and truly acknowledging his suffering. Many around me did the same. During this time, I saw individuals with tremendous resources pour out help and kindness, demonstrating an undeserved grace that humbled and inspired us all. It became clear that petty grievances, pride, and other distractions cannot compare to a life focused on love, forgiveness, and genuine connection—ironically, this helps us acquire the precious gifts of health and time in this world.

Despite the suffering and loss we all feel, Marcin’s journey revealed God to many in countless ways, offering comfort and guidance on how we should live our days ahead.

Marcin, you were a brother, a son, a husband, a father, a friend. You were a fighter and a dreamer, and you embraced every moment. Rest now in God’s embrace, knowing you have left an eternal mark on our hearts and that we will cherish every memory we share.

Until we meet again in the presence of our Lord, rest in peace, my dear cousin. Amen.

Thank You