Sulan the Legend

Sulan was an IT guy. He sat quietly in the corner of the bar we used to hang out in. Played his mock casino games, watching basketball or just reading the news. Paper news. He was that generation. He'd lick his finger before changing the page. But he was more than just a quiet guy. He loved heavy metal. That's not common among sixty year olds. His humor was as dark as his taste in music. Almost like a Russian. You could argue he was funny like a Fin. He would probably like that pun. 

Sulan used to choose his words carefully, speak softly and refused to repeat himself. If he spoke, everyone paid attention. Not necessarily because of the potential impact of his words but because we wanted to be reminded of the sound of his voice. In case any of us gets blessed with him calling us on the street. Some day that he did call him from across the street but they were in a hurry and he had a walker so nobody can be sure. Like Sulan, it's a legend passed around that he existed outside of Stugan. That rhymed. It's a shitty rhyme, but I dare you to make a better one writing about a dead person. Also, a better break of the fourth wall. Sulan would have liked it.

So stay strong Sulan, and rest in peace.

Legend on up there 

jezik

Reč je zajebana stvar. Može biti rič. Često je riječ. Di su granice reči? Što je nacija? Gdje je kraj jednoj a početak drugoj? Kojim jezikom govore Srbi u Hrvatskoj? Hrvati u Srbiji? Kom se bogu molimo mi koji se slolidarišemo sa onima koji su rekli da ako bog postoji, moraće da moli za oprost. 

Pivaj, pevaj,pevaj. Sve je pisma,sve je pjesma, sve je pesma. Pusti glas. 

guilt

For decades now I battle with a very simple issue. How do I honor my existence? How do I honor people I view as crucial to the possibility of me writing this? And through my learning I encountered some people that ideology I subscribed to for the most of my life views as vile. I owe my existence to choices made by people like Stalin and Churchill. 

And I never liked Churchill, especially since I learned about the cost of WWII Indian territory paid. But that sacrifice gave my ancestors a chance. Among other people's sacrifices. 

That being said, as much as I find it conflicting I am faced with the reality that I feel grateful to Churchill for his choices. And guilt when I face the people of the Subcontinent. 

I'm inspired to hear that I made someone's life easier. 

Maybe my gratitude for the sacrifice inspires someone in that far corner of the world from mine. 

rođendan

Uskoro će biti tvoj rođendan. Šesti. Još uvek mi je teško da se pomirim sa time da nisi komad hleba koji ne razumem već osoba sa svojim mislima. Mišljenjima. Željama, osećanjima, radoznalošću, zaključcima, potrebama izvan osnovnih bioloških. 

Ovaj rođendan dočekujem sa istim strepnjama. Ali drugačijim pristupom. Za ovaj rođendan želim da ti dam aspiraciju za samostanošću. Želim da te naučim da mi kažeš ne.

Počeo si da treniraš džudo. Sad je to igra, ali vremenom će postati znanje kojim ćeš moći da povrediš nekoga. Bez obzira na razlog zbog kojeg povrediš nekog, ako tvoja mama i ja uradimo ono što je naš posao pravilno, nećeš se osećati dobro ako svoju veštinu upotrebiš. 

Ali treba da budeš jači od ljudi koji te okružuju. Mentalno više nego fizički. Svako može da stvori mišiće. Malo ko može da očuva karakter. 

Jednom kad izgubiš karakter i postaneš svestan da si izgubio svoje poštovanje, posvetićeš ostatak života kažnjavanju sebe u pokušajima da to vratiš.

I tu dolazimo do moje strepnje. 

Plašim se dana kad neću biti tu da te naučim nešto. 

tvoj trag na uniformi

Svakog dana kad se probudiš, odabereš niz maski koje ćeš pokazati svetu. Te maske su identiteti kojih možda nisi svestan uvek. Način na koji ih nosiš svetu govore kakva si osoba i koje vrednosti čuvaš. Te maske su uloge koje igraš u životu. 

Neke od tih maski su posebne i to koliko su posebne određuješ isključivo ti. Neke maske dolaze sa uniformama. 

Uniforme služe da bi se prepoznavali oni koji je nose i da bi bili odvojeni i prepoznati od ostalih. Neke uniforme, poput vojnih ili policijskih,moraju uvek biti čiste. Imaju obeležja koja govore istoriju osobe koja je nosi. 

Meni najdraža uniforma je moj kimono. Koliko god puta bio opran, ima tragove krvi. Moje i mojih protivnika. Najčešće dobrih prijatelja. 

U tome leži razlog zašto mi je toliko drag. Milost se najbrže nauči kad ti je protivnik neko sa kim si delio bol. Kad ne vidiš razliku između svoje i njihove krvi. 

najdraže mesto

https://maps.app.goo.gl/Hzfyngr7jW5EKALE9

Ovo je moje najdraže mesto na svetu. Pogled iza ovog stadiona na more. Kad sam bio mlađi i kad sam bio tužan, kupio bih kafu negde i seo i gledao u ovo. Tu je tvoja baka provela deo detinjstva. A ja sam video mesto gde sam se rodio. 

more omiljeno jelo iz detinjstva

Kad sam bio mali,malo šta sam voleo kao maništru na suvo ili kako je tvoj dida govorio, maništru nasuvo. Nikad nisam razumeo zašto nasuvo ali eto. Prosto jelo, tamo gde sam se ja rodio, od lokalno dostupnih namirnica. Italijani su nam preneli filosofiju da su jela sa malim brojem sastojaka najbolja. Crni (kapula), beli luk (češnjak), so, biber, maslinovo ulje, što sladji paradajz, bosiljak i vino. Ne mora vino ali meni se dopada. 

Verovatno najbolja koju sam jeo je bila kod bakine drugarice Adrijane. Zanimljivo je to da je njena baka bila najstarija živa osoba bar u Sloveniji kad sam išao kod njih. Sve je bilo iz njihovog vrta. Nisu koristili crni luk, ali je paradajz nadoknadjivao sve. Svež bosiljak. Jednostavno prelep ukus. 

Nekada nije bilo takvog paradajza. U užasa rata, glad je najmanja patnja. Tada je tvoja baka kupovala sveži paradajz na pijaci i pokušavala da napravi najbolje od najgoreg. Ali taj paradajz nije bio dobar. Previše kiseo. Možda zbog rata. 

Ali najdraža mi je bila ona koju je pravio tvoj dida. Verovatno jer sam gledajući njega naučio da je pravim. Kad bi on kuvao, delovalo je kao praznik. Ponekad je lako zaboraviti da nas u životu održavaju paste sa kiselim paradajzom, dok ne dođe sladji. Ne kuva svako dobro, ali je bar tu da skuva. 

Iseckaj crni luk na sitnije komadiće i posoli. Ostavi sa strane malo dok očistiš beli luk, crni luk pusti vodu od soli pa ga je lakše izdinstati. Beli luk se lakše očisti ako ga zgnječiš nožem. Na tavu, tiganj  ili šta već koristiš sipaj maslinovo ulje, ja volim malo više ali to zavisi od ukusa.  Upali na oko 60 posto snage, pusti minut da se zagreva i onda sipaj crni luk da se dinsta. Cilj je da luk postaje proziran. Stavi beli luk i mešaj svako malo. Za paradajz ovde koristim Muti u konzervi. Ako je moguće ceo. Ne pasiran. Poklopi i pusti da se kuva. Nikad ne znam koliko dugo. Probam svako malo. Stavim bibera odokativno. Bolje manje. Lako ćeš dodati ako neko želi. So je bitno dodati na početku jer rasplamsa ukus. Ako je kiseo sos posle pola sata, dodam šećera. Obično je pola kašičice dovoljno. Kad sos postaje gust, sipam pola čaše vina, nije bitno koje. Sve vreme mešaj. Ako imaš bosiljak, dodaj sad. Ja volim gust sos. Tako da kuvam dugo. Neko voli redji. 

Iz mog iskustva najbitniji sastojak je da kuvaš za nekoga koga voliš. 

Uživaj ljubavi 

Voli te tata 

evolution

I'm tired of people I let in my life view me as a project. I'm not clay to be molded. I'm a person with a past. I'm a father. I'm open and vulnerable. And I was underestimated my entire life. People mistake me being curious with being gullible. I recently lel a person enter my life that tried to change me and my home. As an outsider sees flaws in me or my home,they miss my personal growth and evolution of my home.

Out of a hateful person came I. Out of empty space came my home.

I'm willing to grow. I'm not to be changed.

nadam se da ti ovo neće biti poznato osećanje

Depresija je ozbiljna bolest. Borba sa njom je velika stvar. Nema veze sa izgledom osobe koja pati od nje. Nema veze sa načinom na koji neko govori. Ima veze sa mislima. 

Pet ključnih reči sam ti posvetio od trenutka od kad si se rodio. Lep,dobar, pametan, ponos i ljubav. To su vrednosti koje sam žarko želeo da internalizuješ. Prve tri su prve reči koje si čuo dok sam te držao na grudima par minuta pošto si se rodio. Teško je objasniti koliko si mi promenio život. Na koje sve načine si učinio sve što sam mislio da je bitno do tada irelevantnim. Poenta je da si bitan više nego što možeš razumeti. Da dodiruješ živote ljudi na načine koje ne možeš razumeti. Nekad ljudi koje ne poznaješ. 

Zato uspori u životu. Obrati pažnju na ljude oko sebe. Budi obazriv. Vidi ljude. Nikad ne znaš koji život si spasio dok ne saznaš koji život nisi.

identity as a defiance

I come from a proud people. Taken as particularity,my people might be proud for wrong reasons. But they are proud. We are proud. We stand tall when faced with difficulties. My people endured genocides, exterminations, wars, attacks and vilifications. All of them unjust. Because my people still stand. Outside appearing particular. But we are still there. Scattered around the world.

My people stand with Palestine. My people died to defend the Jews. My surname is rare because of that fight. And I wear that legacy proudly. I stand with Palestine, because my family stood with Jews. As my people stood with Patrice Lumumba and other forgotten heroes. 

Can I deal with what is going on in the territory known as Israel? No. 

But I can deal with what is going on where I am. 

Am I willing to go there? I am not. 

Am I a hypocrite? Probably. 

After 4 wars witnessed, my son will not grow up in one. 

vladalac naroda

Mogao sam te voleti. Tako je počela poruka koju sam davno dobio od osobe koju ja nisam. Nadam se da ni ti nećeš pročitati ostatak. Podarila si mi znanje koje mi je bilo na dohvat ruke ali nisam znao kako da pročitam natpis na zidu. Bila si moj Rozetin kamen. Naravno,krivulja znanja je oštra. Tek sam zagrebao površinu. Otkrila si mi svet koji nisam znao da postoji. 

I onda sam osetio. 

Da mogu biti bolja osoba. Da se smešim. Da sam posle puno vremena ponosan na sebe.

Ali nisu svi za sve. I nije svaki trenutak pravi. 

Volim kako su nam se sudbine stapale kroz prste dok si me držala za ruku. Svako osećanje koje sam doživeo kroz tebe. 

Nisam slutio da sam bio u pravu kad sam rekao da si umetničko delo.

Jer se umetnička dela dela ne diraju. 

voja tufegzic

Umro je Vojislav Tufegdžić. Bili smo komšije desetak godina. Pamtim ga po dubokom glasu i po kratkim razgovorima na stepenicama zgrade mojih roditelja. Jednom sam ga pitao o "Vidimo se u čitulji". Dao mi je verovatno najdorćolskiji odgovor koji je mogao. 

"E nemoj još i ti da me pitaš o tome. Radio sam i druge stvari."

Nikad ga nisam čuo da se smeje. Ali je uvek imao osmeh u uglu očiju.

Sreo sam ga u nekoliko kafana posle razvoda. Njegovog. Ne mog.

Uljudno bi pozdravio moje i osmehnuo se. Ali bi se odmah vratio svom razgovoru.

Još uvek povremeno pogledam njegove TV nastupe.

Vojo,bio si tiha veličina.

Sportski pozdrav.

Vidimo se u čitulji.

strah

Sine,strah me je. 

Ne znam kakav odnos ćemo imati kad budeš čitao ovo. Ne znam ni da li ćeš. Danas je ovo popularna platforma. Kad ovo dođe do tebe možda neće biti.

Ali ako bude želim da znaš nekoliko stvari.

Do temelja si promenio moju stvarnost. 

Većinu stvari koje sam uradio sam provukao kroz prizmu tebe. Kao što znaš,neke nisam. Žao mi je. Istinski.

Ali nema nazad.

Teško mi je da se suočim sa svojom smrtnošću. Fatalizam dolazi sa setom ideja sa kojima sam odrastao. Ti ne treba da budeš takav. Zato smo odlučili da se rodiš tu gde jesi.

Ali je teško znati da neću biti za tebe.

Izbor koji imam je da odem kako priroda dodeli ili pod svojim uslovima.

Jedno je bol,drugo je uskraćivanje tebi. 

Šta god da sam odabrao, oprosti mi.

28.10.2023. alternativna realnost

Ljubavi,ako čitaš ovo,onda nisam više sa tobom. Želim da znaš da bih voleo da jesam i da mi je žao što se završilo ovako. Hoću da znaš da se nisam plašio. Otišao sam misleći na tebe i to mi je ulilo svu snagu sveta.

Voleo bih da učiniš nekoliko stvari za mene. Ucinice tvoj život,nadam se,lepsim i lakšim. 

Kad god ti je teško, seti se da si me naučio Švedski. Od svoje prve reči do kraja mog života,sve što znam je zahvaljujući tebi. 

Želim da budeš što sretniji možeš biti. Šta god to značilo. Nema ničega sebičnog u želji da se ostvaris. Želim da znaš da odobravam koju god ljubav odaberes. Voleo bih ih jer ih voliš ti. 

Želim da učiš. Bilo sta. Svaka nova informacija će ti proširiti vidike. Ustraj u radoznalosti. Ako veruješ u Boga, približiti će te njemu. 

Želim da budeš ponosan na sebe, najmanje koliko sam ja. 

Želim da budeš dobar prema mami. Šta god mislio o našem odnosu, znaj da si nastao kao rezultat moje ljubavi prema njoj. Napravio sam greške,znam. Nije prošao dan da nisam zeleo da je bilo drugačije. 

Ali ti si rezultat ljubavi i želje da postojiš. Nisam ni sanjao da ćeš biti ovoliko dobar.

Zbog toga želim da na mamu uvek gledaš kao na nekoga koga sam voleo. I da je tako tretiraš. 

Jednoga dana će u tvoj život ući neko drugi koga će mama dovesti. 

Taj čovek će verovatno biti dobar. Možda ćeš imati drugu braću i sestre. Ali ti si prvi. I ti si moj sin. Sve što sam bio odjekuje kroz tebe. To ništa ne može zameniti. Niko drugi ne može biti tvoj tata. Ali može učiniti život tvoje mame lepšim. Nadam se da obojica želimo jednako da mama bude sretna.

Jednog dana se možda sretnemo opet. Ako ti to čini lakšim život, veruj u to. Ako ne i ako je ovo sve što će biti,znaj da si bio moja najveća svetlost i najveća ljubav mog života. Za mene dovoljno da se smatram blagoslovenim što sam ovoliko ziveo.

Ako ti nisam pokazao koliko te volim i koliko sam ponosan na tebe,to je moj najveći poraz. 

A sada ću ti reći ono što sam ti rekao svaki put kad bih te video.

Ti si lep. Ti si dobar. Ti si pametan.

Ti si moja najveća ljubav. Znaj da sam ponosan na tebe. 

Biće sve u redu. 

Voli te tata.

letter for a future time

I'm at a point in my life where I can't see myself with anyone. I miss waking up next to someone. But I can't imagine that person.

Some time ago a friend did that for me and I was grateful. I had only a couch at that time. No sex was there. Just intimacy. 

I remember the feeling in the morning.

True happiness because I woke up hugged. Desolation and desperation. A hole in my soul because I didn't want it to end. And simultaneous realization that my friend can't stay. Even if she wants to. I just can't let it happen. 

And one day someone might stay over again. I have a bed now.

But on one of the walls stands a picture of your mother and I kissing. It was our first and least bad road trip. In Timisoara. 

I decided to keep it because you said you loved it. And because I was the happiest in my life. That's a hard thing to explain to a new person. 

But I made my priorities clear to myself.

You see, I never felt home anywhere. Not even in my own apartment now.

I see this place as my temporary apartment because I want to leave it for you. I'm going to lose my time with you because that's how the things go. It's a constant uphill battle for your affection. But a man that comes in your mother's life will spend more time with you than I will.

Unfortunately that means I have to become a threat. There can not be a person setting boundaries against me when it comes to you. Boundaries can be only set by me.

And that means I have to focus on our relationship. I can't afford to spread my attention on other people. That means that I can't imagine having a family outside of you.

Questions will come in about fifteen years.

And I will be there for them.

As I will be there for your first heartbreak, punch, equations that I forgot exist.

You just don't understand yet how important your smile is and how deeply I regret hurting you. 

You are entitled to your feelings. Now and in future. If you choose to explain them I will listen. If you don't I will respect that.

But I will not repeat the mistakes made against me.

As I hope you will not repeat mine.

I love you.

Tata

Solo noi

When I was a kid I practiced violin. I loved the sound of it. Not the one I produced but I loved anything that had it.

My family is a mix of Serbian and Hungarian influence on my maternal grandmother's side. I still have a complicated relationship with Hungary because of the stories my grandma told me from the concentration camp she was interned at during the WWII. She was about 11 when she got taken together with her family. I know some Hungarian to this day. And I deeply hate knowing it because I know why she learned it. 

My maternal grandfather is a Serb from the beautiful city of Mostar. He wrote down his recollection of the events of establishing the independent state of Croatia. To cut the story short, people were gathered at one of the meeting points and told that new state was proclaimed and if I remember correctly,one of the ladies,a catholic Croat told him to run. He ended up in Nedić controlled, German occupation zone of Serbia where he was shielded by a family of strangers. He was about 12 years old. He lived for years thinking he was the only survivor.

My paternal grandfather is from Split. We can trace our branch of the surname for I think around 200 years. But as of today I don't know the origin. I actually know the least about it. What I know is that my close relative organized the resistance in the city and together with Mokranjac was the greatest south Slav composer in history. Famous people were connected to us but that is irrelevant for now.

My paternal grandmother is from a very rooted family of Šibenik. We go centuries back. We are catholic Croats. And obviously we had a difficult relationship with the Italians. Cultural, political and physical domination is visible until today. That side of my family did what entirety of Šibenik did. We joined the only right side of the WWII. And we payed for it. Buildings in Šibenik and surrounding areas are full of my family's surnames commemorating our sacrifice for the liberation and unification of the fatherland.

My parents met in an elementary school in a border city with Italy. The area is effectively trilingual. Rapid industrialization made Serbo-Croatian an unofficial language. Slovenian was the majority language and Italy was still projecting it's domination via various channels.

And there my story actually begins.

All the blockbusters I saw for the first time were Italian dubbed. Terminator. Back to the future. Lion King. Disney's Robin Hood. You name it. It took me years to rewire my brain to start singing along the songs from cartoons in the original language.

But my parents gave me a gift. Or the upside of the horror, madness,evil and insanity of the destruction of my homeland.

They gave me music.

Today Toto Cotugno died. I loved his music. 

I am ashamed to say it but despite my reservation towards the Italian nationalism I sang along to L'Italiano. And then my favorite one.

Solo noi.

The reason why it's special to me is because when Teo's mom came for the first time to stay with me she was very nervous in the car. So I played music from my phone. That was the song that came. And it was perfect in my mind.

I'm sure that Toto touched hundreds of millions of people. If he touched just mine it would have been enough. 

But he did so much more.

Buon viaggio. Grazie per tutto.

Resti in pace. 

Adesso siete solo voi.

expat

Before I came to Scandinavia I worked on a cruise ship as a night auditor. It's an interesting position because it's a mixture of administration, safety, quite literally keeping the captain awake, doing bartender's job without serving drinks, show and low-key leavemealone vibe. The plan was to learn the trait and become a manager of several ships. Live in Botswana and work on the Nile.But I found out I was going to be a father.

That changed everything. Every thing I had planned got scrapped. 

I remember talking to my friends Danijela and Mile about them studying in Upsala and I said to myself I could visit but live,never.

But there I was. Pregnant partner and myself. No job. No idea what is going on. Reinventing myself for the second time in a year. 

Her family is some of the best people I know.

I'll cut it short and tell you it didn't work out.

But we did it together in the beginning.

I got a job after exactly two months and ten days. Actually she found it. In Brondby. East part. The industrial part. IKEA warehouse. Salary was enough for the bills, mortgage for her apartment, cigarettes, cheapest coffee on the way to work, absolutely clueless to how the system works.

Coronavirus time was hell. I'd wake up at 10am, do what I needed to wake up, and leave at 11 to be sure I am at work at 2pm. Trains were going every hour, with 500 people being in person checked by the Danish border control. I will not comment on the way it was conducted.

On the way home I would get home between half past midnight and 2am, depending on the train. Worst case scenario was when the train that comes from Brondby would be one minute before the train that goes to Malmö. That meant I have to sprint about 300m to catch it after 8h work in a warehouse. And I can't explain the mental breakdowns I had if I didn't make it. Because it meant I will have to walk from the central station in Malmö to our home. And Sweden decided to cancel public transportation after certain time.

But my son was born.

And he didn't like to sleep. It would take him to fall asleep couple of hours. So sometimes when I came home after all of this I would take him out to walk him into sleep. My ex was exhausted. Any mom can relate to that. She needed some rest. But that was the only thing I could do at the time. I probably could have done more but I was exhausted.

That's all for this time.

I have to sleep.

observationer

I've been living in the north of Europe for four years now. Can confirm that I expanded my horizons and learned a lot about myself and people here. But also people back home.

Let's start with some of the cultural shock I experienced. 

First thing I can point out is something I can call empathy leveling. Most of people are superficially distant and from a southern European perspective cold. Later you probably knew from the stereotypes like "it's cold but, standard,hey!". But, what I learned is if someone embraces you after some time,they are genuine in that. It's different situation from back home where you meet a person and it takes about 7 minutes to have a lifelong friendship feeling. You won't be invited to anyone's house for a year,but once you are,you can expect to have help with dismembering a body,no questions asked. 

On the other side, people are not cruel. In situations where facts are presented in a rational manner,even with alcohol present, people tend to keep their cool, accept new information and admit potential misjudgement. There's also a lack of action in potentially dangerous situations,something I can atribute to the trust in the institutions. I've heard more than one time that I shouldn't act and let the police/firefighters/ambulance deal with it.

Second huge shock was that noone covers their mouth when yawning. I remember vividly my 6th grade biology class teacher yelling at me that she's disgusted with the sight of my kidneys when I yawned and promptly kicked me out of the classroom.

Here people yawn in the middle of the sentence on a date powering through the yawn so the sentence wouldn't suffer. Imagine my surprise when I saw that for the first time on a gorgeous girl. 

Biological functions are also very much not taboo. Shitting is normally discussed among friends and lovers. I'm not going to go into details but I had a cute situation where I was driving a truly beautiful woman and she said that she has to fart. I was a bit taken by surprise but for some reason that spells closeness to me. Something that family does.

Seconds after that,she said through laughter that she shat herself. No embarrassment. Just a fact. But hilarious situation.

Next one is nudity.

I used to take my son to a local pool every weekend because he loves water. And the first time I went to leave my stuff in the locker room I was greeted with a sight of about 10 people of all ages having a friendly discussion among themselves. Butt naked. Scratching their balls, touching each other when someone makes a joke I suppose. And a woman, equally naked coming in to call her kid to come. Noone payed attention.

A few years ago I was with my friends from previous work place and we went to sit on one of millions of Copenhagen piers. All immigrants except for the two. In Denmark you can drink in public. In Sweden you can't. Mostly.

It was a warm day for the middle of May. 

So there were we, playing bunch of music from 4 continents and a young lady approaches us,sits next to us for a few minutes and promptly takes off her clothes and proceed to jump in the sea. All of us stopped talking. Except for the 2 Danes. It is so uncomfortable thinking about it because I am sure that we looked like bunch of creeps. Which we are,have to admit. But after she swam a bit she came out, stayed some time next to us and after she dried up she put on the clothes and left.

And the culture around bodies is so much healthier than I grew up with. Perhaps that's a personal thing. I'm not sure.

People just seem to enjoy their bodies more.

Sex is another one but I won't get into that now.

There's a lot of things that I find interesting here. I'll probably write more in the future. For now this is it.

north

For a long time I have an urge to go far north. There's something deep inside of me that calls me. Not sure what but I want to test myself. As if one should accept their own insignificance.

I'd like to murder my ego. Test my body. Get close to my death. See if I can get out. Learn about myself. Or just become one of so many untold stories of demise.

Because you will never feel more alive than a moment you die.

But.

There is always a 'but'.

And 'but' negates everything previously stated.

Harry Belafonte

You were about eight months old when you heard Harry Belafonte for the first time. You loved his music. That's something you inherited from your grandfather. Dida Toni. I grew up with Harry's music, I liked it, but not like you. I would listen to your grandpa's select tunes on a cassette over and over again during different road trips. I still have a reflex when a "Island in the sun" song is about to end to start singing the famous "day'o". I'll explain cassettes to you one day. When I get a cassette player.

You would think that "Day'o" was about you. You would flinch every single time. Genuinely curious and cute to die for. 

You should know that I tried to push you to classical violin. Your excitement lasted from when you were 6 months until half an hour after I played Ma vlast by Smetana.

But Harry you chose. 

And you would sometimes sing his songs.

On the day I am writing this he passed away. 

He wasn't a big part of my life until you made him that. And I feel sad. Perhaps so you wouldn't.

Remember people through their deeds.

You made Harry live beyond his lifetime every time you sang "Te'o".

Love

Tata