Her columns, written during her battle with cancer, are back in the spotlight after her death on August 18, 2026. In them, she wrote without embellishment about the growing distance from her son, daughter, and grandchildren.
Croatian writer and columnist Vedrana Rudan passed away on August 18, 2026, as confirmed on her official profile. Her death has brought renewed attention to the columns she wrote during her cancer treatment, which drew significant attention for their brutal honesty about family relationships.
In one of those columns, republished by Kurir.rs, Rudan wrote about her relationship with her children without the usual maternal sentimentality. Instead, she described a deep sense of estrangement and disappointment.
"To me, my children are strangers, unknown people who get on my nerves just as much as I get on theirs."
She recalled the time when they were small and sought her embrace, describing it as an "emotional orgasm." But over time, that image completely changed.
"When they were little, they sought my embrace, smeared my face with their saliva, and made me laugh with their giggles. Their little hands, their little feet wrinkled like those French rubber bands-all of it brought me to an emotional orgasm. Today I know that my children were then little animals that had to be cute to survive."
Rudan also described typical family gatherings that, in her words, had become empty rituals. Her son, daughter, and grandson would come for Sunday lunch, but communication was nearly impossible.
"What a pain in the ass. And then... time flies, and suddenly across the table you see strangers who stopped by for a Sunday lunch because they think they have to be polite. After lunch, while the coffee is still steaming, you and your husband try to start a conversation on any topic. So you utter sentences."
She added that these people don't talk but send messages to those who matter to them, and that after coffee, they will "walk out of my life with a smirk on their lips and ice in their eyes."
In the column, she also openly discussed her illness, stating that cancer changed her view of relationships. As she said, she now needs the fewest people, especially those closest to her, and she only still loves her husband because he hasn't changed.
"Since I got cancer, I need so few people, the closest ones the least. I only love my husband. He hasn't changed. I regret giving birth; I thought I would give birth to eternal love. At certain ages, none of us are at our sharpest. Biology f*cks us."
She specifically addressed the possibility of bad news from a check-up, saying she doesn't want false comfort.
"I need someone whose eyes aren't icy, whose hands aren't cold, whose voice isn't full of fake sorrow. So, if at this check-up the doctor tells me he sees 'some shadows' but that everything will be fine, I'll tell him to cut the sad trombone because I have no regrets."
The column ends with a specific scene: a call from her grandson after three months of silence. Rudan described not picking up the phone.
"The phone rings. It's my grandson. Calling after three months. 'How are you, grandma?' I don't pick up. Screw you, grandma's little darling."
Her words, republished by Kurir.rs after her death, have sparked strong public reactions. While some see courage and uncompromising honesty, others view them as a shockingly cold reckoning with those closest to her.
