In 1972, my Deda co-built a summit in Lovćen, Montenegro, the mountain that inspired Montenegro’s very name, meaning black mountain.
It was here, even before my father was born, that he injured his leg, and for long as I can remember, Deda walked with a charming limp.
There are many family stories I do not know: some locked away because they are painful, others I never thought to ask. And though Deda is no longer here, I am learning —
yes, there is still time
to listen,
to honor.
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 11:14 AM UTC
In 1972, my Deda co-built a summit in Lovćen, Montenegro, the mountain that inspired Montenegro’s very name, meaning black mountain.
It was here, even before my father was born, that he injured his leg, and for long as I can remember, Deda walked with a charming limp.
There are many family stories I do not know: some locked away because they are painful, others I never thought to ask. And though Deda is no longer here, I am learning —
yes, there is still time
to listen,
to honor.
