Born "Natalia," second daughter of Marko (called "Chach") and Marije Mamula (called "Baka") Ivanovich, Aunt Nat graduated in nursing from Yale. During a rotation, she contracted pulmonary tuberculosis, for which there was no "cure" between 1933 and 1945, for during WWII, penicillin was reserved for the troops.
Her face was plain but pleasant, and Aunt Nat was very smart. But she wasn't clever enough to avoid confrontation with her father, Marko, who ruled the roost. She discussed and argued and did things her own way. She also suffered the consequences. For example, possessed of a gorgeous figure, she decided to wear a new bathing suit to the local swimming pool. Her father forbade it, but she did anyway--and was soundly walloped for it, corporal punishment being nothing unusual in 1928.
As the second daughter of parents who wanted sons, Aunt Nat was the least favorite child. It was only when her sister (Dad's favorite) spent a post-graduate year in Paris that Aunt Nat, then 19, enjoyed more attention from her parents. And when her only brother (Mom's favorite) went off to medical school, she already had TB. After Marko, her father, died in 1939 and Marije, her mother, moved to California, she got maternal attention, for "Baka" visited on weekends to care for Natalie during TB flareups.
Aunt Nat married a contained, non-demonstrative fellow with a possessive mother, so married life was less than terrific for her, and she cherished visits to her sister in Santa Barbara where she could "get away." She had no children.
She spent her last month of life at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles, where she finally succumbed to tuberculosis and pneumonia of the right lung due to chronic bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis. Post mortem also revealed bronchiectasis of the lower lobe, left lung.
Only 34 years of age at her passing, unable to practice nursing, which she loved, and unable to find joy with the man she had married, she was at least spared a long but sorrowful life. There is good even in death. Rest in peace, dear Aunt. I remember you, Danica (Jr.).
Her face was plain but pleasant, and Aunt Nat was very smart. But she wasn't clever enough to avoid confrontation with her father, Marko, who ruled the roost. She discussed and argued and did things her own way. She also suffered the consequences. For example, possessed of a gorgeous figure, she decided to wear a new bathing suit to the local swimming pool. Her father forbade it, but she did anyway--and was soundly walloped for it, corporal punishment being nothing unusual in 1928.
As the second daughter of parents who wanted sons, Aunt Nat was the least favorite child. It was only when her sister (Dad's favorite) spent a post-graduate year in Paris that Aunt Nat, then 19, enjoyed more attention from her parents. And when her only brother (Mom's favorite) went off to medical school, she already had TB. After Marko, her father, died in 1939 and Marije, her mother, moved to California, she got maternal attention, for "Baka" visited on weekends to care for Natalie during TB flareups.
Aunt Nat married a contained, non-demonstrative fellow with a possessive mother, so married life was less than terrific for her, and she cherished visits to her sister in Santa Barbara where she could "get away." She had no children.
She spent her last month of life at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles, where she finally succumbed to tuberculosis and pneumonia of the right lung due to chronic bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis. Post mortem also revealed bronchiectasis of the lower lobe, left lung.
Only 34 years of age at her passing, unable to practice nursing, which she loved, and unable to find joy with the man she had married, she was at least spared a long but sorrowful life. There is good even in death. Rest in peace, dear Aunt. I remember you, Danica (Jr.).
Born "Natalia," second daughter of Marko (called "Chach") and Marije Mamula (called "Baka") Ivanovich, Aunt Nat graduated in nursing from Yale. During a rotation, she contracted pulmonary tuberculosis, for which there was no "cure" between 1933 and 1945, for during WWII, penicillin was reserved for the troops.
Her face was plain but pleasant, and Aunt Nat was very smart. But she wasn't clever enough to avoid confrontation with her father, Marko, who ruled the roost. She discussed and argued and did things her own way. She also suffered the consequences. For example, possessed of a gorgeous figure, she decided to wear a new bathing suit to the local swimming pool. Her father forbade it, but she did anyway--and was soundly walloped for it, corporal punishment being nothing unusual in 1928.
As the second daughter of parents who wanted sons, Aunt Nat was the least favorite child. It was only when her sister (Dad's favorite) spent a post-graduate year in Paris that Aunt Nat, then 19, enjoyed more attention from her parents. And when her only brother (Mom's favorite) went off to medical school, she already had TB. After Marko, her father, died in 1939 and Marije, her mother, moved to California, she got maternal attention, for "Baka" visited on weekends to care for Natalie during TB flareups.
Aunt Nat married a contained, non-demonstrative fellow with a possessive mother, so married life was less than terrific for her, and she cherished visits to her sister in Santa Barbara where she could "get away." She had no children.
She spent her last month of life at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles, where she finally succumbed to tuberculosis and pneumonia of the right lung due to chronic bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis. Post mortem also revealed bronchiectasis of the lower lobe, left lung.
Only 34 years of age at her passing, unable to practice nursing, which she loved, and unable to find joy with the man she had married, she was at least spared a long but sorrowful life. There is good even in death. Rest in peace, dear Aunt. I remember you, Danica (Jr.).
Her face was plain but pleasant, and Aunt Nat was very smart. But she wasn't clever enough to avoid confrontation with her father, Marko, who ruled the roost. She discussed and argued and did things her own way. She also suffered the consequences. For example, possessed of a gorgeous figure, she decided to wear a new bathing suit to the local swimming pool. Her father forbade it, but she did anyway--and was soundly walloped for it, corporal punishment being nothing unusual in 1928.
As the second daughter of parents who wanted sons, Aunt Nat was the least favorite child. It was only when her sister (Dad's favorite) spent a post-graduate year in Paris that Aunt Nat, then 19, enjoyed more attention from her parents. And when her only brother (Mom's favorite) went off to medical school, she already had TB. After Marko, her father, died in 1939 and Marije, her mother, moved to California, she got maternal attention, for "Baka" visited on weekends to care for Natalie during TB flareups.
Aunt Nat married a contained, non-demonstrative fellow with a possessive mother, so married life was less than terrific for her, and she cherished visits to her sister in Santa Barbara where she could "get away." She had no children.
She spent her last month of life at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles, where she finally succumbed to tuberculosis and pneumonia of the right lung due to chronic bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis. Post mortem also revealed bronchiectasis of the lower lobe, left lung.
Only 34 years of age at her passing, unable to practice nursing, which she loved, and unable to find joy with the man she had married, she was at least spared a long but sorrowful life. There is good even in death. Rest in peace, dear Aunt. I remember you, Danica (Jr.).
