Vera (Blagojevic) Velickovic, age 78, of Winchester passed away on February 28, 2026. She was the beloved wife of Petar Velickovic, her steadfast companion in faith, family, and purpose for 59 years.

Born, raised, and educated in Serbia, then still part of Yugoslavia, Vera was the daughter of Miodrag and Olga (Atanaskovic) Blagojevic. She attended Architectural High School in Belgrade, graduating as valedictorian in 1965. Circumstances didn’t allow her to attend college, but she held onto that dream. In September of 1967, she married Petar and in 1969 they welcomed Aleksandar, and then Marija and later Natasha, in 1973 and 1978. With three kids and a full-time job, she pursued higher education and obtained her A.S. in Civil Engineering from the University of Belgrade in 1982. Embracing “love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life” mantra, her career spanned from urban planning in Belgrade to eventually finishing as a drafter and graphic designer in Boston.

Coming to America was not her and Petar’s permanent plan, but part of the journey God set out for them. In March of 1973, while seven months pregnant with Marija and traveling with her son Aleks, mom Olga and her brother Misha to visit her sister Mira, a tragic car accident changed the trajectory of the family’s life. This event claimed her brother’s life and left Aleks fighting for survival. In years to come and while raising their three kids, Petar and Vera devoted much time to medical needs of their son post-accident, traveling to visit doctors both in and outside Yugoslavia. And it was that effort which brought them to America in the late 80s. At that time, the Yugoslav community was tiny in Boston, but, sadly, the war brought an ever-increasing wave of immigrants and the need for a permanent community in Boston. With grit and purpose, Vera, alongside a small but determined group of Serbian families, helped lay the foundation of what is today the St. Sava Church and a vibrant Serbian community.

She loved Serbia deeply and gave herself to building a piece of it in this part of America. Her faith was not quiet or ornamental; it was active and unwavering. Second only to her own mother, she was a masterful chef. In the kitchen, she conducted her own symphony. She was known in the Serbian community for her kuvana rakija (mulled brandy) served on Saint’s Day (Slava) that warmed hands and spirits alike; her riblja čorba, the Lenten fish stew she would prepare for the entire parish for Christmas eve; the roasted lamb her grandkids devoured, a staple of every major holiday; and her famous green peas that were unforgettable. Food, for Vera, was love made visible. It was Serbia served on a plate. As the church and the community grew, so did her involvement. Age made her less physically involved, but no less impactful. You could see her directing efforts with a wave of the hand and sometimes a stern look. But perhaps it was being a language teacher for five years in the Serbian Language Program Kometa, where she made the most permanent impact, as she taught the next generation of American born kids how to read and write in Cyrillic, and how to love who they are. She built community the way she built her family: with devotion and fire.

At home, she found joy in gardening, coaxing life from the soil as naturally as she nurtured it in people. Vera loved traveling, literature, art, theater, and beauty of simple and clean esthetics. She delighted in tending her home, in gathering family and friends, and living fully and unapologetically.

As a wife, she stood beside Petar with strength and unwavering commitment. As a mother to Aleksander, Marija and Natasha she was both anchor and wind, steady in her protection, relentless in her expectations, boundless in her love. She taught her children resilience not as theory, but as daily practice. She showed them how to work, how to pray, how to give, and how to endure.

As a grandmother to Isidor, Magdalena, Novak, and Misha, she softened (ever so slightly) without ever losing her spark. Her grandchildren knew her through warm embraces, full tables, and the unmistakable certainty that Baba was in charge and that Baba loved them beyond measure.

In addition to her husband, Petar, Vera is lovingly survived by her children: Aleksandar Velickovic and his wife Muny of Newton; Marija Jankovich of Winchester; Natasha Velickovic and her husband Brian Fairbanks of Quincy; by her cherished grandchildren, Isidor, Magdalena, Novak Jankovich as well as their dad Andy of Woburn, and Misha Velickovic; her sister Mira Todorovic in France, her nephew Milan and family in France, and her niece Jelena in Spain; and countless friends, many of whom she unofficially adopted and called family.

A Visitation will be held on Saturday, March 7, at 10AM at St. Sava Serbian Orthodox Cathedral, 41 Alewife Brook Parkway, Cambridge. A Funeral Service will follow at 11AM. Relatives and friends are kindly invited to attend. Burial will follow at St. Peter and Paul Cemetery, 170 N. Lowell St., Methuen. Family and friends are invited back to St. Sava Serbian Orthodox Cathedral following the burial.

Vera’s life was movement of hands, of heart, of history. She built. She fed. She prayed. She endured. And in every place she stood, she left it stronger, warmer, and more alive than she found it.