Little piece of history

Her name was Marija, but she was called Marica. She was my dad's aunt, sister of his mother. She was more beautiful than my grandmom, with smaller and straight nose, her skin looked without wrinkles also when she was very old. She died a few days after I started to work here where I work now, at the age of 94. She spent her last years in the old people's home, and yet then she actually started to live her life fully – she didn't color her hair anymore, and she was really beautiful then with her natural hair color and plain hairstyle, she found new friends – imagine, she was alone most of her life, having only a few friends and family around every now and then (hey, that sounds like me!).She was in love with someone who was killed in the war. So she was never married and she didn't have any children. She was a strict woman, her home was always clean and tidy. We visited her often when she lived close to our home, but later she moved away when she swapped her flat for the one of her nephews'. Bigger for smaller, few rooms in a house with a garden for few rooms on the 7th floor.

Always when I traveled, I sent her a postcard. Not that I really liked her – she was a strict woman after all – but I thought that she might like receiving a postcard from faraway places. And she did, as I was told later, when she died. She actually left me a small golden pendant in her will, some money and a few pieces of furniture that I have never received; though I have never expected to receive anything from her. She also gave me and B a wedding gift - that was a big surprise!

When I was still living with my parents, she came for a visit from time to time. She always brought that kind of sweets that you can see on a photo. Always. She never brought anything else, at least I don't remember that she would have. Believe it or not, but always when I see this kind of sweets in a shop, I remember her.