Belgrade to Pocatello

Fourteen years ago, Scott and I were swimming in the Mediterranean Sea in the village of Platamon, on the eastern coast of Greece, when Scott put his hand on a sharp sea anemone.  A gentleman swam over to us and explained, in careful English, what to do about the anemone needles.  He introduced himself to us as Vladimir from Yugoslavia and invited us to have lunch with his family.  Under the trees near the beach where the family was camping, we ate our meal and met Vladimir's wife, Borjanka, and his teenage children, Zeljko and Miroslava.  We talked about life in Belgrade, which is now in Serbia, and life in Utah.  I can't explain why we became friends, why we exchanged gifts, or why we kept in touch.  We just felt a connection.

A couple of years later, there was trouble in Kosovo.  Young men in Yugoslavia were being drafted into the army in the middle of the night.  Long story short, Zeljko came to live with Scott and me in Idaho in the summer of 1999, thanks to generous donations from our friends and family.  He went to school, joined the LDS church and did not see his parents for three years.  But he was safe.  When Zeljko's parents came to Utah for the first time in 2002, it was a very emotional reunion.  This weekend, we went to Pocatello to see Vladimir and Borjanka again.  They are visiting Zeljko and Jen and their three (and a half!! congrats!!) little boys.  During our visit, Vladimir pulled me aside to give me a heartfelt and emotional thank you for helping Zeljko emigrate.  Not wanting anything to get lost in translation, I called Zeljko over and said, "Tell your dad that all the sacrifices have been his and Borjanka's, and I am not the one to thank."  Indeed, sending your son half a world away to save his very life is a sacrifice that only the most courageous could go through with.  People think they would do anything for their child, but what if the cost was never having him back in your home?  What if you knew that the people you would love the most, your grandchildren, would be raised in a foreign country, speaking a foreign language and with big chunks of time between visits from their "Baka and Deda?"  That is to sacrifice everything, and parenthood can come to that.  And I think being a parent is intense now?

With Vladimir and Borjanka in town, we (minus Scott and Xanthe) had the kind of weekend that restores everything back to center.  When we arrived in Pocatello, Borjanka had prepared a meal so delicious, I still regret not just consuming the whole pan.  If only my stomach were bigger!  We spent the evening reminiscing and watching the eight kids play, cry and fall down.  Araceli fell off the trampoline and took a little nap to recover.  Concussion?  I don't know, but only the first child goes to the ER for head trauma.  She ended up being fine.  Afterward, we swam at the hotel, made elaborate hot chocolate concoctions and set up our sleeping quarters in the room.  The next morning, there was breakfast with the other hotel guests, more swimming and more relaxing in the hot tub.  We couldn't leave Pocatello without spending a couple more hours with our favorite Europeans.  They gave us Milka chocolate bars to snack on as we looked at pictures of Belgrade, so life was perfect.  The ride home was quiet and sunny, and we arrived home to a clean house and a happy Scott and Xanthe.  I hope and pray that it is not long before the Serbo-Croatian side of our family is in town again!  

 

We love you! Vladimir, Borjanka, Zeljko, Jen, and all the boys...thanks!