Dejan Cokorilo’s Story, Sweden
Photo by Dejan Cokorilo/2007.
Dejan grew up in Sarajevo playing football and celebrating birthdays. All that changed when the city was besieged. In 1992 he came to Sweden to rebuild his life.
Dear friend,
I still remember that game. Our team won and we were so incredibly happy. We thought our happiness would last forever. We were wrong.
I still remember our street. Our neighborhood. We shared so many happy moments and we thought that we grew up in the best place on earth. We were wrong.
I still remember your birthday party. Your 13th birthday. I remember the taste of your grandmother’s food. I remember the songs we sang. I don’t remember that we said goodbye.
Few days later, the Civil War kidnapped our childhood. Our city was under siege, but somehow my parents found a way out. We found peace and freedom in a new country, far away from home.
Eventually I found myself a new team. Not as good as ours, but good enough to bring back the smile on my face. Our new neighborhood was nice and I made new friends. New birthdays came up and slowly the hole in my heart healed.
My new country gave me almost everything back. Everything except the irreplaceable. You.
I still don’t remember us saying goodbye. When I left your party I never imagined that it would be our last moment together, ever. Your last birthday.
