Not sure where this was taken from but the below just posted on Marillion forum :-
This eulogy from Mariusz Duda was heartwrenching and difficult to read without choking up. Beautiful words for a dear friend who has moved to the other side :-
"One of my favourite mischievous remarks I liked to tease Grudzien with was reminding him the day before his birthday that he’s half a year older than me. Just before he turned 40 I said, “Do you know how old I will be on March 15th? Still 39, and you?”
We listened to the same music. We would play Solar Fields or Hedningarna at parties and dance with our eyes closed around an invisible bonfire. In the old Progresja club we would lie on our backs on the small stage in the corner and listen to Archive from the speakers. And to the cool solutions we came up with in “In Two Minds”. We would compete with each other as to who was the more loyal Dead Can Dance fan, who loved the band more. I lost ignominiously when I realised that all of his tattoos were connected with Dead Can Dance graphic designs. And that he paid over PLN 500 at an auction for “Into The Labyrinth” vinyl.
We subscribed to the idea that three perfect sounds are more meaningful than twelve played around the guitar neck. We were excited by this emotional approach. I composed songs in such way that he could fill them with those perfect few notes. We completed each other. Right from the beginning of Riverside I knew he was a special guitarist whose playing was made for painting musical landscapes. He had his own original style, and that has always been more important for me than technical contortions and circus tricks. Most of all, he was modest, humble and he knew exactly what he was capable of. And you could hear all that in the way he played. It was incredible and fascinating.
He couldn’t disguise emotions. When he was happy, he showed that, jumped for joy, goofed around, and when he was in a bad mood, he couldn’t pretend even when he was on stage. He was peeved and everyone could see that. We would then go backstage after a gig and tell him, “f**k, Piotr, people can see that you’re pissed off, when will you finally learn to play a bit for them?” And he would shout back, “But that’s the way I am and I can’t help it!” And indeed that’s the way he was. Painfully honest. He played what he could the way he could, he never faked anything. That’s the kind of man he was. But we were growing up together. And during our last tour, we were surprised at how many positive emotions we were able to inspire in each other. Especially when we looked and smiled at each other. And that idea to lean back to back while playing “Feel Like Falling” charged our batteries for the entire gig. We were becoming as one on stage, a true band. And it was thanks to him that I wanted us to continue as a band in spite of my solo aspirations.
We learned from each other the most important things. To always remember that, first and foremost, you have to be a good person. To cherish the most valuable characteristics in us. To live a full life and never put it off for later. Whenever I was lost, he was the reason I was able to find myself again. That’s the way we influenced, inspired and helped each other. We were like brothers. Sometimes closer, sometimes further apart, but we could always count on each other. We were connected by so much more than music. We were connected by the ability to talk about what most people don’t want to talk about, emotions and how we felt, and why we reacted the way we did, and why we were the way we were.
It must be a joke, a grim twist from the damned “Game of Thrones”, which we were reading avidly at the same time, checking furtively how many pages the other one had got left to read. A terrible blow as if a baby learning to make its first steps was swept away by that big wrecking ball. And all that’s left is a huge black empty hole with remnants of dead flesh around. I feel as if half of my heart was ripped out of my chest, as if half of my soul was taken away from me. I keep crying and I can’t get a grip. I feel an immense sea of sadness and pain inside me. Yes, sometimes, to balance things out, I get a glimpse of black humour. Sometimes, I’m simply pissed off. But the truth is, I miss you, Piotr, and I don’t know how to cope with it. A lot has ended when you died, a lot has faded, vanished, fallen to pieces. I am simply devastated. I feel as if tides were crashing me against rocks and with every wave it’s getting worse. I don’t know when the pain will pass but it looks like for now it has to be a part of me. Just like you have been a part of my life.
Farewell my beloved Friend. See you somewhere on the other side.