You know I would never forget your birthday. You would have been 78 today. I miss you. I can't believe it has been it has been 7 years since I lost you. I can't believe it has been over 7 years since our last conversation over the phone. I can't believe it has been almost 8 years since we last sat together face to face in the car on the way to the airport. I remember that converation so well. We cleared a lifetime's worth of stuff up during that talk. When I said we'd continue it on my next summer break, you looked at me and said: "Mucka, naslednje leto me ne bo." ("Kitten, I won't be here next year.") I didn't want to believe it. I still don't.
I'm sorry I wasn't there with you the last days. I'm sorry that we played answering-machine-tag that week after the New Year's... I'm sorry that I only found out before it was already too late to be with you; the phone call I got from Mom saying: "Your father is very sick and the doctors can't do anything." The second phone call I got 3 hours later, saying that you were gone.
I'm sorry you weren't there the day I bought my first apartment. I'm sorry you never got to meet the love of my life. I miss how you somehow always knew when I was feeling depressed...like ESP or something...even though I was several thousand kilometres away, whenever I was feeling down, the phone would ring. I'd would answer to hear your voice asking me what was wrong.
Happy Birthday Ata! I will always love you!