Today is ten years since my father-in-law, Mile Vujadinov, died. I miss him very much. My children never met him, but we tell them stories about him all the time. He was a giant among men. Tata (Serbian for daddy) was imprisoned for three years for trying to defect from communist Yugoslavia, enduring many humiliations during that time. After his final escape, Tata became a welder by reading a book about welding on his way to Australia. He apprenticed as a blacksmith so he understood metal, but it was by reading this book that he learned how to weld. What makes this story even more fantastic was that he never went to school because his family was too poor to afford proper shoes. By the time of his death Tata could speak five languages. As you can see from the picture, he loved to dance. I miss him. Tata’s death was the first death in which I had any first hand experience with the death care industry. We had no plan at the time of his death, so we did what people do – we did our best.
Saturday we met, prayed and remembered Tata in the church. We are Orthodox Christians, and we remember the death of our loved ones all the time. We make and serve a sweet wheat dish, zito or koliva. Basically zito reminds us in death, there is life. We make it to remind ourselves of the resurrection, and the sweetness of the life-giving tomb. What I find so interesting is that there are so many different ways to make this dish. I think it is so touching that in death and grief, we serve this sweet dish to remind us not to stay too long in the bitterness, because there will be sweetness again.
Even though I have a tradition that has that allows me to have time set aside to grieve and remember, I think we all can choose to do the same. For those of us who have lost someone we love, it is good and fitting to remember them in ways that make sense to us. Why not have a mini-memorial on a big anniversary to tell stories to the younger generation? It is through the stories that they live in us. I know stories about my great-great-grandfather and mother and I never met them, but to me they are alive to me in those stories. Let us feel free to take the time, to remember those who we love and who have gone before us in ways that are meaningful for us.
Saturday we met, prayed and remembered Tata in the church. We are Orthodox Christians, and we remember the death of our loved ones all the time. We make and serve a sweet wheat dish, zito or koliva. Basically zito reminds us in death, there is life. We make it to remind ourselves of the resurrection, and the sweetness of the life-giving tomb. What I find so interesting is that there are so many different ways to make this dish. I think it is so touching that in death and grief, we serve this sweet dish to remind us not to stay too long in the bitterness, because there will be sweetness again.
Even though I have a tradition that has that allows me to have time set aside to grieve and remember, I think we all can choose to do the same. For those of us who have lost someone we love, it is good and fitting to remember them in ways that make sense to us. Why not have a mini-memorial on a big anniversary to tell stories to the younger generation? It is through the stories that they live in us. I know stories about my great-great-grandfather and mother and I never met them, but to me they are alive to me in those stories. Let us feel free to take the time, to remember those who we love and who have gone before us in ways that are meaningful for us.
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