When I was a kid, my brother and me spent almost every summer in a small village in Croatia, where my grandmother and uncle lived, a place where my mother was born. This is a peaceful place, between hills and mountains of Gorski kotar, near Rijeka, a harbour in Adriatic sea. At the beginning, we had only a few friends there, neighbouring kids with whom we played. But, later, during `80s, we started to hang around with other young people from village and also from Zagreb and Rijeka, kids whose parents were born there too. I remember a day when I have met one of them, who will became one of my best friends I have ever had. It was in 1985, beginning of July, previous night there was a big storm with thunder and a house of one of my acquaitances were set on fire (even though I am not sure if this was because of a thunder though, my memory fails now on this detail :sad:). He was there to help and my brother and me were observing what is happening and listened to a stories. Our mutual friend from Zagreb introduced us and, later, we all went to have some beer and to talk about. He was interesting person, full of ideas for fun and ready for action, whenever. I felt we will be a very good friends.
It proved to be a truth in a years that came later. We were a part of a large group of people and had a great fun, went to mountain climbing and hiking, attended some wild parties, have had some fight with other groups from other villages, went to sea or a nearby lake to swim…. It was, so far, the best part of my life. We were young and wild and happy, and my friend was a kind of a leader of a group. We talked a lot about everything that draw our attention back then.
After my return from army, in december 1989, things have started to change. There were rumours about separation of some republics of former Yugoslavia. But that winter and during celebration of New Year everything was just unimportant, we all felt that great life is awaiting for us, we just need to rech it….
Then it came a war. Last time I have seen him was during my short stay in Croatia in May of 1991. We sat in a pub, there was another friend from Istria and we were commenting about what is going on. We agreed it is not good but made a plans for a next summer. Two months later it became serious.
In the June 1993. I have managed to make a phone call to my uncle, the lines were broken but I have found some kind of connection over phone operator from Bosnia (:faint:). He was hesitating but at last he told me my friend has died in an military action. I was speachless, didn`t know what to say. In a hours after that I was looking at photographs, remembering the good time we spent together. Yes, we were on the opposite sides in that war but I could never think of him as an enemy. We were not enemies, others had put us in that roles.
Five years later, after the war was over, I went in that village again to meet my family and some of the friends that remained there and remained a true friends after all that happened. I went to see his parents and I cannot describe now how emotional that was. Later I went to graveyard to put some flowers and lit a candle…
These days are anniversary of his death. I don`t remember the exact date, it was close to my birthday but my mind refuses to memorize it. Somehow I will never accept it….
Blogs I Follow
- Thrifty Campers
- A Walk with Wildlife
- The Spryte's blog
- The View From My Bowl
- Humanity in Syria is at risk
- Make every day a little bit special ♥
- Robin's Robins
- coisart's canvas
- A Sneak Peek On Things I Like
- A Canadian in Ireland
- The Fish Tank
- This Insubstantial Pageant Faded
- der Wandersmann