I know this is not the most pleasant of topics, but this is the first case for me in 30 years, when I lost someone who was once very close to me and also had a great role and part in my life, so I decided to share my experience and honor my “maminka” with a longer story.

(Note to self: This whole experience and the amount of YouTube content I have been consuming lately got me thinking I would love to start shooting more video for my own archives and something like a video diary. Because I’d love to go back and reflect on what my life and experiences were before. I did several videos during a recent road trip we did around Europe and I love to go back and just check out the videos. I think it’s a wonderful hobby and a very nice practice.)

My grandmother’s name was Stefka, but we all called her “Maminka” or “Omi”, which is like calling her “second mom”, or at least that’s what it means to me.

I’m not going to go into more details about her life story. Maybe I’ll come back to that another time. I’d prefer to say more about what she meant to me and how I remember her.

She was the one who was always positive. She was the one always sending us nice gift packages, and I mean real packages coming in large boxes in the mail every big holiday when we weren’t together. And it’s something that me and my sister would always get super excited. Actually, so excited, that I once almost chopped one of my fingers off with a pair of scissors and didn’t even realize I was bleeding for a couple of minutes. She was the one who would always hug me and have deep conversations with me about what I want in life and how things are going because she really cared. She was the one who used to say to me “I love you” all the time.

I love you, Maminka! You’ll have a place in my heart forever!

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