My Dad’s Funeral

Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Dad’s funeral who died March 30, 2008. This chapter is from my unpublished book “My Life Without Me”

4. Dad’s Funeral

- All these years he really treated you badly, said my good friend attending my dad’s funeral.
And thus I didn’t give him an open coffin funeral. So many years of his mortal fear, rage and fantasized abandonment of life, and here he was, at his life’s end at last. Would that rage kill me, too? When my mother died, he had turned to me to care for him. In his last decline, he had become my child. Two family traumas for the price of one.

When he died, on March 30, 2008, I lost a father, a husband and a son. Oh, nothing incestuous in our relationship: only culturally perverse. But when the whole nation behaves in one way, feels strongly about it , as a tribe, what’s perverse about it? Even I, who felt weird at first, accepted it quickly. We play the games we are taught to play by our parents, peers, enemies, frenemies. And I love games.

My Life Without Me (My Father)

Today my Father would have turned 87. This is the chapter from my new book, My Life  Without Me, dedicated to him, Gojko Tesanovic (1923-2008)

3. My Father

Gojko and Jasmina, 2001 - Photo by Stephanie Damoff

- Never make decisions out of fear, he used to tell me.

I didn’t know how else to decide, so I stopped making any decisions.

- Take care of yourself, don’t give a damn what people demand from you if you don’t like it or want it.

He called me Jale when we were alone and intimate: and he talked to me as a man to man. It was  a shame I was not one: I could tell from the way he talked to me.  On the other hand, my father was pleased with my stubborn character and independent traits. That seemed manly enough to him.

I always hated my never born brother. I could only imagine him: small, tender, a sissy, getting all the privileges I didn’t have just because he was a man. If I loved my brother, perchance, that would have been even worse for me. It was easier this way, to turn into a man when necessary to pick up all the male wisdom my father was willing to share with me. God forbid that my mother heard any of that:  the selfish advice, about economic and emotional independence, options to avoid marriage and children, free sex/secret sex, fast cars and an engineer’s technology instead of girlish pets and flowers.

Ako je ovo ljubav

Danas bi bio 85. rodjendan mog oca

Nisam izabrala da budem tvoja ćerka, niti tvoja poslednja saputnica, ni tvoja naslednica: sve to što mi se sada dešava u tvom carstvu smrti. Sve je to moglo da se desi i bez mene, ceo moj život. Sve što sam uradila svojom voljom i željom završilo je kao zaboravljena epizoda u odnosu na diktaturu arhetipa

Na podu u velikom stanu sa stilskim nameštajem leži jedna mala crnobela fotografija sa nazupčanim ivicama, ka što su nekad bile: neki mlad smedji covek, nasmejan sa valovitom kosom, u odelu drži jednu bucmastu veselu valovite kose bebu. Moj otac i ja.

Sahrane

Dve za jedno prepodne

Jos juče kad sam se povukla u ćošak u kafanu Kalenić ne bih li na miru ispisala šta sve treba da uradim, mimo placa misli o proslosti i zakletvi u buducnost vezano za smrt mog oca, počeo je nesporazum. Dakle, iako mi već bukvalno 26 godina priča u detalje o svojoj sahrani menjajući scenario u detalje, ja ga nikad nisam slušala jer me je to užasno nerviralo. I sad kad kucnu čas ja odjednom ničega ne mogu da se setim osim besmislenih detalja koji su me nervirali. U kućama haos od gostiju i rodbine. Svako priča o svojoj sahrani primećujem: pokojnik bledi i niko u stvari ne drži konce rituala u svojim rukama… i svi se prepiru…ćemo sveće kad nije bio vernik a opet bio 4 godine u bogosloviji kao stipendant… kakav venac kad nije voleo cveće nego mašine… kakvo obeležje kad je bio ateista…jesmo li obavestili onu sestru te onog lekara te rodbinu moje umrle majke…

I dok tako popisujem ulazi moj drug Jovan Kolundžija slučajno u Kalenić: odmah se spazimo, sedne on za moj sto i počnemo da se vajkamo… ja pričam o smrti a on se šlepa na temu. Vrlo brzo shvatimo da on ne zna da je umro moj otac a da govori o smrti Rajka Mitića koji stanuje u zgradi Jovanove majke.