The way you wear your hat
Sep30

The way you wear your hat

The way he wore his hat, the way he spoke with a gentle irony when someone challenged him, the way he gazed with his blue eyes that had seen so much suffering in his young years, the way he moved, calmly, the way he smiled, made him one of the most elegant men I met in my life. And he was mine. My dad. I would like to say like the old song: The memory of all that No, no they can’t take that away from me No, they can’t take that away...

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The last song
Sep29

The last song

He had had a nice tenor voice and he was still madly in love. He had learned many love songs for his wife. Also when a cruel war forcibly separated them for a long time. And of course, when they managed to cross the borders and got together again. He had wandered thru Europe and learned many languages to sing his love. I was with him in the hospital one sunny morning. He knew he was dying. His blue eyes were closed most of the time....

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The wedding
Sep29

The wedding

My parents got married in Zagreb (Croatia) the 22nd November of 1943 in an almost empty church during a bombing. My dad wrote in his diary how when they were approaching the altar an enthusiastic Franciscan played the organ. The solemn chords of Mendelssohn’s wedding march, were overcome now and then by the thunderous explosions of the bombs falling in the southern quarter of the city where several planes were trying to destroy a...

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The green gown
Sep29

The green gown

She got dressed with her best gown, the one with green silk skirt, that goes with an embroidered bolero. It was his favourite. He used to say that it emphasized her figure and her golden hair. She chose among her jewels, the emerald necklace with matching earrings and bracelets. She combed her hair in a loose bun. He would be proud. Pretty and radiant for him. Now she only had to wait for him, the love of her life, making his entry,...

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