Slavica Dugar

In Loving Memory

Mom was born in Đakovica, Montenegro. She was part of a large family. She was 9th out of 11 children. There were 8 girls and 3 boys. All born before World War ll.

My grandparents planned for a large family. Large families were a symbol of strength and prosperity. They owned vast land to accommodate a large family. All that changed when the war started.

The well organized and loving family lost their home due to the war. The bombing started and they had to run. The oldest was 18 years. The youngest, a baby. They were captured and placed in a concentration camp. They spent the duration of the war in the camp. They were a close, caring and loving family. They survived.

After the war the tough times continued, once again. The regime had changed. The country was in ruins. My grandparents thought that the children would have a better chance of schooling and life in general in Belgrade, Serbia.

They were able to secure housing in Zemun, a suburb in Belgrade. Mom went to school and then finished high school. She ultimately received her trade degree in mechanical engineering.

She worked for a pharmaceutical company named Teloptika. Dad was an architect. They met and fell in love. They were married November 1, 1958. Dad was an only child. Mom was part of a large family. Mom’s family also fell in love with him. Dad was now part of a large family. They had their one and only daughter, Marina, just over a year later. Happiness all around. Dad’s mother Maria and his father Aloise were very happy to welcome their one and only grandchild. As were Mom’s parents, Mijojka and Pavle Bulatović.

Happiness, yes, but very little money. It was hard to get anywhere monetarily. Even almost 20 years after a devastating World War. The regime had turned into communism. No one could leave the country. Mom decided to try. She escaped to Italy, with her little 6 year old daughter. They were placed in a camp until they were given permission to leave for Canada. The move was very scary. If Mom was sent back, she would go to jail and her daughter would be taken by the state. Mom was that determined to escape for a better future for her daughter. She was very brave. Thank you.

Landing in Toronto with a suitcase in one hand and her little girl in the other, tough times ahead…Mom didn’t know English, yet somehow found us a place to stay temporary. From there we went to London Ontario on July 23rd,1966. In January of ’67, my grandmother died. We had just settled. Mom couldn’t go back for her beloved Mother’s funeral. Heartbreaking for her and me. In the spring we decided to move to Toronto. Once again, Mom found us a place to stay in Toronto. It was on the 3rd floor, the attic of a house on Markham street. We had one bedroom and a small kitchen. We shared one bathroom with the owners. They were a family of five. The neighborhood was very Italian. Luckily, Mom knew how to speak Italian, so we enjoyed staying there for about 5 years.

Mom was a very hard worker. She worked at two jobs, even three at times to make sure that there was food on the table and that I had everything that I needed. She and Dad worked for their family as well as for their newly adopted home. They were proud Canadians that never abused their new found home.

I remembered that I felt sorry for my Mom because she worked so hard. I didn’t ask for anything…ever. I couldn’t. Her goal was to save enough money to be able to bring my Father over and to go back to visit her brothers and sisters that she missed so very much.

For as little money that she had, we were always buying clothes for her sisters and brothers to send back home.. This was expensive. Yet, I remember us always filling boxes of clothes and toiletries to send back home.

Mom always helped people as much as she could. Through her church, she volunteered to help settle newcomers to Canada. She helped with food drives for the needy. Mom was part of a women’s group that organized events at different venues. The proceeds would go to different charities. If anyone needed anything, she was always there to help. She always remembered landing in Canada without anything. She never forgot her humble beginnings. She and my Dad were always grateful that their “adopted “ country accepting them when they were desperate for a better life. They loved the country that they were born and raised. They were in their 30’s when they came to Canada. They equally loved the country that allowed them freedom to realize their dreams. The country that they both lived until they passed. They were both proud Canadians, as am I. This is my adopted country as well.

As a family, we traveled back home many times. Our relatives came here to visit as well. As a family, we enjoyed vacations there and were always happy to come back to our second home. Through the years, the country’s economic status improved. None of our family felt a need to join us here.

Mom was extremely happy to be right in the room where her beloved grandson was born. I remember, she kept repeating “ you’re gorgeous” the whole time. And….he was! She had recently retired when my son was born and was my right hand. Dad was extremely proud of his one and only grandson as well. Before his grandson, Alexander, could walk, he set out to build him a wooden horsie, a little rocking chair and an old fashioned school desk. Dad was a very talented artist.

She helped raise my son. She had a chance to go back home and live with one of her sisters for 6 months of the year. Lord knows that she fully deserved that in her retirement years.

Yet, when my son was born, she declined and was there for us both. Each and every day. There is just no way to have thanked her for all she did for us both. I tried, yet I always felt that nothing would have been enough to thank her for her generosity and love. Effortlessly cooking cleaning and taking such good care of her precious grandson.

We were both so extremely proud of Alexander. He was the love of our lives.

He, in turn, is a very lucky man that two women loved and cared for him so very much.

The three of us took vacations once a year, every year since my son was three years old. We went to Serbia and the Caribbean mostly.

As my son went off to university and later followed his dream of becoming a Police Officer, we missed his presence in our home tremendously. Mom was heavy hearted, yet continued to be extremely proud of her grandson. She knew that he was guided by our Lord and would go ahead successfully in his career to accomplish greatness in all that he did.

She was equally happy that he had found the love of his life to take as his wife. Taylor came into our lives so neatly packaged with two adorable little beauties, Raven and Aurora.

In her latter years Mom enjoyed her home and her family very much. She lived with me and relished the visits from her grandson, granddaughter-in-law and her lovely little great-granddaughters. She had worked for Christie Bakers for 17 years before she retired. She had made a handful of good friends there. One in particular was Mom’s best friend, Helen. They would call each other every single night around 6 o’clock to chat. Every night! Amazing! True life long friendship.

Mom was loved by all. She loved everyone. A true humanitarian.

Her religion and her family were the world to her.

She helped anyone and everyone anyway she could. Always.

Her legacy is unconditional love and helpfulness.

We are proud of her. Her accomplishments. Her legacy.

We will miss her terribly, yet Mom will remain in our hearts forever.

We will never forget her and always speak of her.

Love always.

Your beloved daughter, Marina

Beloved grandson, Alexander

Beloved Taylor, Raven and Aurora.