On July 29, 2018, Oliver Dragojević, arguably the most famous Croatian musician of all time, lost his battle with cancer and passed away. In response, Croatian Prime Minister Andrej Plenković announced that July 31, 2018, would be a national day of mourning for Dragojević. Thousands of people congregated in the coastal city of Split, where they watched his casket be carried through the streets, then sailed to his home island of Korčula, where he was buried. Flags were kept at half-staff for him all day.

Now, you might ask "Why all the fuss?" If an American singer dies, people might be sad and tributes might be made for them, but it is never brought to this extent. No politician will call a day of mourning just for a famous singer.

However, Oliver was not just a famous singer. He was so well-known and well-liked that he became a staple of Croatian culture.

As a Croatian-American person who has lived her whole life in the US, I was initially having trouble figuring out why a celebrity death was such a big deal. Sure, I understood that it was a big deal for my parents because they actually met and spent some time with him when I was a baby. I understood that it was a big deal for his family and friends because they lost a loved one.

But why was this entire nation upset enough to parade him through the streets like a national hero?

The answer came to me when I was listening to some of his music. As I was listening, the song "Galeb i ja" came on. The second I heard the first few chords, tears came to my eyes.

I was suddenly a child again, at the Croatian cultural center in Chicago (the city where I was born and raised), at some party, dancing around with my family, eating Croatian food like ćevapčići. I was instantly transported to that place, in that little pocket of time. I was completely overwhelmed by the nostalgia of it all. This is the feeling his music creates.

And conversations that I had with family friends about Oliver revealed that they felt the same way. A family friend recounted listening to his music and instantly remembering the image of her father, who had passed away a few years ago. My parents listen to the music and think of the time they drunkenly sang Croatian klapa music with Oliver himself.

Everyone thinks of something different, but so many people I know get transported to some distant, happy memory of the past when they listen to his songs.

His music is beautiful, but the memories attached to the music (especially for family and friends who grew up in Croatia) are even more special.

Oliver Dragojević is so special to Croatians around the world because he reminds us of our roots. His music is like a little piece of Croatia that you can take with you no matter where you go.

Počivaj u miru, Oliver. Nikad te nećemo zaboravit.