Rosie is Rose Ursic, daughter of Toma and Delfina Ursic. During the 1970’s and 1980’s, Rosie was our correspondent in Perth, West Australia, keeping the family informed of things through her letter to Mary Vlainich, her cousin, in Chicago. Whenever a letter arrived, Mary made sure to share it with her sisters and brother and their families. Although we all laughed at the way Rosie put words together, her meaning was always clear.
In 1988, the company I worked for, Computer Associates, told me that I was to represent the company at several International User Group meetings. These meetings were to take place in: Perth, West Australia, Rota Rua, New Zealand, and London, England. As soon as the dates and cities were confirmed, I contacted my Aunt Mary for information about our relatives in Perth. Mary supplied me with Ivan and Rose Mijacika’s address in Bassendean, a suburb of Perth. After checking into the Perth Sheridan, I called Rosie and arranged to have her pick me up at my hotel the following evening.
As I waited for them on the front steps of the hotel, I began to wonder what they would be like as my only contact was through her letters and last night’s phone call. She sounded very excited when we talked but I had no picture of her. When they pulled up in front and Rosie jumped out of the car, my fears were immediately erased. She looked just like my Aunt Mary! She ran up to me with open arms and hugged me, laughing all the time. Ivan was driving the car and Deanna was in the back seat along with one of her brothers.
After a short drive, we pulled up in front of a small bungalow, not unlike my Aunt Mary’s house on the South Side of Chicago. I felt like I had been here before and I got out of the car. Inside the living room, I once again felt immediately at home. Rosie led me into the kitchen where she already had our dinner in progress. I stopped at the kitchen door and just stared! This was my Aunt Mary’s kitchen, even down to the pattern of the wallpaper!
When Rosie asked what was wrong, I said “Nothing, Rosie, except that this is Mary’s kitchen in Chicago.” With her Australian accent in full bloom, she replied, “Aw, G’wan. Don’t kid a kidder.” Rising to the challenge, I began to walk around the kitchen, pointing to the various cabinets and drawers.
“This is where you keep the good china. In this cabinet, you have the everyday dishes. Over here are the glasses. In this drawer is the silverware. In this drawer are your carving knives.”
Finally, she burst out laughing, and told me to stop. Enough was enough and it was now time to eat. During dinner, she told me about the extended family that lived in West Australia and promised that I would get to meet some of them before I had to leave. After dinner, she brought out a photo album and asked me to identify the people in the pictures that Grandma Matkovich had sent her sister. I told her the names and relationships of the people in the photos on the first three pages.
When I turned to the fourth page, I stopped.
“This is my Aunt Catherine but I don’t recognize the others. In this picture, the young girl is Catherine’s daughter Julie but, again, I don’t know who the others are.”
Rosie laughed again and told me that the people in those photos were all Australians – relatives, to be sure, but they all lived in or near Perth. Because of the genetic interchange between the Matkovich and Ozretich clans, there were genetic twins – one in the USA and one in Australia. On my last evening in Perth, Rosie arranged a family gathering at her house. There were about 40 people all together. At one point in the evening, I gathered them around Rosie’s dining room table.
I placed my tape recorder, with a two hour tape, in the center of the table. Then I asked them, starting with Rosie, to identify themselves, their relationship to Grandma and her sisters, and a bit about what they did here in Australia. They filled the entire tape with their introductions and their stories. When I returned to the USA, my mother (Frances Matkovich) gathered her sisters and brother and anyone else who cared to come to her house where we played the tape back for those who had read or heard about Rosie’s letters. We all enjoyed the afternoon very much. Sad to say, I don’t know what happened to that tape.
Rosie and I had more than relatives in common, we also shared the same birthday. Rosie was born on October 6, 1939, two years before me. In 1989, I moved to Sydney and Rosie and I became very close through letters and phone calls over the next eight years. In August of 1999, Rosie was diagnosed with cancer and died just two months later, on our birthday, October 6, 1999.
-- Jim Burns (son of Fran Matkovich and Ed Burns)
posted March 16, 2010
>>>> In Grandma's Kitchen
I remember going to Grandma's house on Saturdays when she would always bake bread - and we'd get a loaf to take home. Her house (which I lived in til I was three years old and we moved to LaGrange) was 'upstairs' and always smelled like baking or cooking. She had some parakeets (or canaries?) which always chirped cheerfully, especially when she would talk to them. I also remember when Grandma would make streudel: she would spread a white sheet on the dining room table, sprinkle flour all over it, and roll out the dough until it was paper thin, then cover it with apples and cinnamon, then roll it all up, cut it into sections, and bake the streudels: heavenly! Thanks, Grandma!
-- Mary Burns (daughter of Fran Matkovich and Ed Burns)
posted March 16, 2010
