The Tunnel

I don’t really remember too much about the first year after my mom’s death, except that I was stuck. Like being in the middle of a long tunnel under a water, when the light hasn.t started showing yet. Here’s what I do remember: I spent the first couple of months after her passing in Greece with my sister. We left the US shortly after the funeral and seeing to the most pressing issues, including becoming co-guardian of my twin sister, along with my Dad. I don’t remember the specifics of Greece too much either. Two of my mom’s friends in Crete stand out Eirini Railakis and Eirini Bitsakis.

These two amazing women, (who tended (and still tend) to be spoken about as though they are one unit and in the plural: the Eirines), wanted to remember my mom in their own special way. In order to avoid confusion, in this post, I’ll just call them Eirini B and Eirini R. After all, if I called them Eirini One and Eirini Two, that would be too close to Dr. Zuess (you remember Thing One and Thing 2) for comfort. And I am not yet ready to let my happy shine through.

What they did was mind-blowing. I remember walking into Eirini R’s beautiful home in the countryside in a picturesque village. She’d decorated it with fairy lights and flowers. There was a table with pictures of my mom. And most amazing there was a dry branch tree strung with fairy lights and notecards attached with people’s tributes.

Not to be undone, Eirini B cooked up a storm.  My mom loved her cooking, and this time she cooked all of my mom’s favorites. My mama liked lots of things so there was a mountain of food. I mean that literally. Greek people cook for 50 people if they are having just the family over for dinner. For instance, eat a little salad, a chicken leg (that’s the whole leg, mind you, not just the drumstick), a couple of sides and someone is sure to tell you that you haven’t eaten a thing. In Greece, that’s the appetizer. Of course, the same person that says that is bound to have at some point commented earlier in the evening that you’d gained weight.

Being in Greece with my sister, Alex, brought us closer than we had been, I think ever. My sister is nearly 10 years younger than I am and the age difference is partially to blame, but we are also quite different. That first summer after my mom’s death was hard for me, but I think even harder for her. There would be so much that my mom would miss and I think that affected her deeply. Still, we talked like we hadn’t and I think it was healing for both of us. My Dad, as I mentioned in my last post was a godsend, particularly in that first year. We also became closer while in Greece and he was to help we navigate the complicated aftermath of my Mom’s death.  I was, and still am grateful to both of them.

I had lost contact with a lot of old friends in the summer of 2014, but quite a few of them came back into my life, some after a brief absence, and some after quite a long time. One of these friends was to figure prominently in changing my life in ways I didn’t expect.

That’s all she wrote for this Inkreadable Installment. Stay tuned, though, as always, there is more to come.

 

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