Today I remember…


Today is November 11th, The Remembrance Day.
Remembrance Day marks the anniversary of the official end of the World War I hostilities on November 11, 1918 but this day is used to remember ALL fallen soldiers in all wars. I come from a war torn country, former Yugoslavia, city of Mostar, where the civil war that started in 1991 destroyed my happy childhood, my life as an adult, tore up my family and took my uncle. I lived through it and was old enough to remember and feel the effects today. Yugoslav war(Croatia, Serbia and Bosnia and Herzegovina) it was Europe’s deadliest war since WWII. And I remember every day, not just on November 11th but today I especially remember.

Croats, Serbs and Bosnians were all the same people who lived happily in harmony under one ruler, Tito and one name, Yugoslavia … until well one day we didn’t and decided to slaughter each other to claim our own independence.
I was 9 when the war started.. I remember everything vividly. Funny thing is that in my teenage years I did not remember as much as I do now. Maybe because I pushed it deep into my mind and now it’s starting to come out.
Our country was beautiful. People from all over the world used to come there and write about the unique beauty they discovered.
All of that gone.
I have seen a lot during the war. Stories you can only see in movies unless you’ve been through it personally.
I never thought the war effected me but now as a 31 year old woman, I see how it did. Only now I am able to see.

I have OCD, pretty bad case of it. I am extremely sceptical of everything and everyone, I do not trust people. I constantly look over my shoulder and I am still scared to death of thunder because it reminds me of the sound of bombs.
But I am lucky to be one of the kids that made it out alive because so many children were not that fortunate. So many people lost their lives and for what?

My uncle, my dad’s only brother. He was my all. He called me his Goddess. 32 years old. Almost my age right now. Killed. He was forced into being a soldier. You had to or they would kill you. He died defending the city he loved so much. The pride of where you come from is so different back home than here. It is so pure and passionate and real. Not many understand. He was either killed by a sniper or a grenade. We do not really know because his best friend, the only person who was with him, was killed 3 days later.
This was the only time I have ever seen my dad cry. The biggest tear drops you can ever imagine. My grandma lost it. His son was only 2 and will never remember his father.

I remember my uncle every single day. I carry his picture with me all the time. I remember his laughter. He was the best man ever. You can google his name and find various websites dedicated to fallen soldier from back home and people praising him.

I miss him every day even though it has been 20 years, it seems just like yesterday. The scars of war never fade. If anything you push them back deep into your mental and they come back to haunt you like they did me and now I find myself remembering random things and bursting into tears. Talk about being scared huh.

Well today we remember all of those that gave their lives up. We should be happy we live in Canada and the States where we have some many privileges. I had those same privileges back in my home country ones and they were so selfishly taken away so now I appreciate each day to the fullest.



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