Margaret Meggie Athena Hingston

To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.

Obituary

With deep sadness (that often tips into utter devastation), we announce the passing of our Meggie (Margaret Athena Hingston), who was born in Poznań, Poland, on 3 December 2020 and died by suicide in Poznań on 4 April 2026.

Meggie was the name she chose for herself. She didn't like Margaret or its Polish equivalent, Małgorzata. She also did not like to be called Maggie. She was Meggie -- and nothing else.

(But to her father she was often Athena, "the goddess of everything important," and sometimes Nausicaa, the brave, wise, and self-assured young princess -- both important figures in Homer's Odyssey -- protectors of Odysseus on his long journey home from Troy. To her mother, she was almost always "Meglet," little Meggie, where little actually means its opposite: as big and important as the whole world. For her parents, she was as precious, as brilliant, and as hard as any diamond.)

Meggie will be remembered for her energy, intelligence, loyalty, kindness (not always the same thing as gentleness), tenacity, generosity, strength, curiosity, stubbornness, maturity, remarkable gifts for logical thinking and reasoned argument, and, perhaps most telling of all, for her consistent and profound love of animals, both wild and domestic. She had ups and downs, ins and outs, moments of silliness, and moment of grumpiness. She was not a simple soul; she had depth. She was not always easy; she was often challenging; she was always wonderful. We sometimes called her "the President of Everything." Had she lived longer, we know she would have become the president of something, probably something important, perhaps of many things. Her potential was boundless, though she often had far less confidence in herself than she deserved to have. For many years she tried not to stand out, a trait that was particularly evident at school, where she could have been at or near the top of her class in several subjects, but chose instead to ride along in the middle. She could be shockingly lazy if something didn't interest her, but intensely focused if it did. Like many children of the Smartphone generation, she didn't read much...except she read everything she could find about animals, and she retained what she learned. About animals, she was encyclopedic. Family, friends, neighbours, schoolmates, fellow scouts, colleagues, and acquaintances of all sorts experienced both her sweetness and her sharpness; she could be as calm and gentle as a summer sunset or as intense and buffeting as a late winter thunderstorm. She had it all. And she gave it all she had. Until she had no more to give.

Throughout her fifteen years, Meggie built lasting connections and touched many lives through acts of care, encouragement, and friendship. But she could break as well as build; she had ex-friends as well as forever friends. Among her endearing traits was her dry sense of humour. She could seem almost English in that regard -- perhaps it was in her genes, for her father's side of the family are English, though some of them (her father and his brother, Meggie's uncle David) are also American. It can be an odd cocktail -- adding Polish vodka to the cocktail does not soften its effects. In numerous ways, Meggie had a talent for creating indelible memories from seemingly simple events and contexts, memories that will remain forever vivid for those who had the privilege of knowing our complex and beautiful daughter. She was passionate, though she sometimes hid it. She was creative, though she often denied it. She lived by her own rules. If she thought something was right, it was right. If she thought something was wrong, it was wrong. Compromise was not part of her character. She was no politician. As has been said of other Hingstons, she did not suffer fools gladly.

She certainly could surprise and took great delight in doing so. One day, she visited her father with her neck covered in what in America are called hickies or "monkey bites" (malinki in Polish). She was fourteen or fifteen and discovering herself and her own desires, needs, attachments, and attractions. I (her father) smiled and asked, "Oh Meggie, do you have a boyfriend?" No, she said. "A girlfriend?" Yes, spoken with a very firm smile on her face and a glint in her eye, as if daring me to be shocked. Was she gay or experimenting or exploring or rebelling or ... We will never know. What we do know is that her first love was very real and very important. Like us, the girl whom Meggie loved has been shattered by Meggie's suicide. My heart goes out to her. She might someday have moved on from Meggie; she can never fully move on from this tragedy.
 
Meggie's untimely and unexpected death leaves a hollow space that will disturb and haunt forever -- a sort of phantom limb, an empty chair at the table, an unresolved chord. Yet the memories, lessons, and moments of energetic excitement that she shared with us will continue to live on in the hearts of those who were fortunate to know her.

Currently, no formal funeral service is planned, in part because her father is a Buddhist, her mother is a Protestant, and her grandmother is a Catholic. Unfortunately, they have trouble cooperating with each other. There may be a funeral at a later date. I hope there will be. Those who would like to know more should contact Meggie's mother (Ola Świder-Hingston) at olaswider@me.com. For now, instead of a funeral service, there will be what in America is called a Celebration of Life. It will be held on Saturday, 20 June 2026, from 11:00 - 13:00, at Taras Słoneczny (cafe on the hill near the old amphitheatre) in Park Cytadela in Poznań. If you would like to learn more, please contact Meggie's father (Andrew Hingston) at ahingston.uk@me.com.

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Andrzej Świder

Katarzyna Świder

Richard E. Hingston 

Eleanor Anne Kennedy

Aleksandra "Ola" Świder

Andrew L. Hingston

Christopher Cleisthenes Hingston

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Christopher Cleisthenes Hingston

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Margaret Meggie Hingston

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