In the end, Grandma took care of everything. We were in a constant turmoil of questions without answers, and decisions we were not ready to make, but Grandma Chrysanthi made all the decisions easy and obvious and provided answers to the questions we dreaded. Her last act in this life was her strongest stand and after 65 years she was ready to do what she needed to go. Unfortunately for us, she decided to go.
It took almost five years for the disease to bring her at the edge of losing her dignity. Started with mild aches, slight mobility issues, and evolved in taking over her nervous system, the ability to move, to hold, to speak, to express herself. All the help we provided just gave her a bit of comfort or just support to those around her. Slowly but steadily she kept losing more and more of her functions, heading straight for very difficult situations. Lately she stopped taking her medication because she could not swallow her food or her drinks or her meds in this instance. Grandpa was losing his patience and his sanity at the same time as he kept living in the Grandma-from-the-past and slowly was resigning from every day life. Sometimes even more than Grandma did.
Yiota was running out of options. After reaching out to all her teachers and their masters, she even had a session with a homeopathy guru in India. Nothing seemed to be working as miraculous as homeopathy works. During the treatments, Grandma presented some improvement right before she fell into remission or a generally worse physical state. Western medicine was even more disappointing. The medication was absolutely useless and the physicians that treated her were not concerned with her but with the case she represented. Nothing worked or at least nothing that we tried worked. Next step was to make an appointment with a special clinic focusing of eating and swallowing problems on long term patients. Another next step was to find a care home where she will have help all day, away from the disabilities of her husband and the calendar of her careers.
In the middle of the COVID-19 era, we were isolated, worried and eventually jobless and homeless. The multiple levels of insecurity led us thinking that vacation to Greece was going to get postponed for another year. The initial plan to drive across Europe was practically impossible and the inconsistency of the airlines made flight plan really risky. I think the most important factor was that we were mentally and emotionally drained and we had no real will to go through the trouble of organising such a trip. We just couldn’t find the right motivation.
One early July morning, following a fulfilling day and a strange night, Grandma decided to go away, to people that she knew that loved her and to places she understood better than the one she lived in. Maybe even some angel whispered to her that she could spare herself losing her dignity and losing her humanity, and follow the light to a better place. And she did. She left. She went away like the little girl she was, to find her peace, to find her mother and her friends, those that she missed so much.
That morning, her way gave us all the answers. The decision to fly to Greece as soon as possible did not even need a discussion. We found tickets, as affordable as we could, as soon as we could and three days later we were in Greece. All the bureaucracy was no more important and the motivation we were lacking was now found. Job-hunting and house searching would have to wait or they would have to be done remotely. Work too.
Grandma led us and the children to Promachoi. The infamous village that we heard so much about was now in front of us, expecting us to visit the streets, the square, the church, the cemetery and the homes of some relatives. Brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents were all in the house, with a silent and painful weight on our shoulders trying to keep their excitement for being there, and trying to be respectful to Grandpa who was crying and Grandma that was missing.
The hard part was getting to Greece and once we were there we were ready to make the most of it. We would be able to attend all the rituals of the nine-day and forty-day memorials, which was a privilege. We would have the time to meet relatives and friends, go to the beach and have proper summer vacation, and since we had no obligations waiting for us in the UK, we could stay as long as we wanted. And we did.
Grandma gave us six weeks of holidays in Greece. With the excuse of the funeral and memorial arrangements, she gave us the opportunity to enjoy the summer. Of course she knew how difficult our winter was and of course she knew that she didn’t make it any easier, so she did what she knew was best for everyone. She left. She left and she gave us the opportunity to remember her with love rather than concern, she gave us the opportunity to be where we would be able to reconnect with ourselves rather than worrying about what would be the next series of torture we would put her through.
Our landlord sold our house and that meant additional levels of complexity especially combined with me losing my job. New school year is approaching fast and the kids want to be certain that they will be attending the schools they know. Yiota felt very comfortable in this house and the way that worked with her job, made the house seem ideal. Losing the house was something that she could not accept and made every effort to make it possible for us to buy it. When that didn’t work, bitterness and sense of injustice settled in and made it a very difficult topic to handle and discuss. Yiota needed a higher purpose to justify the things that didn’t go her way. And this time, it was Grandma. Or should I say, it was Grandma again.
Two and a half years ago, we lost Grandma Stella, while she was visiting us in the UK. A few months later, our landlord decided to sell the house so we moved house. Following the initial shock and frustration we realised that Grandma with her passing led us to a better place. A new house, bigger and better where no history was written and the memories of the missing Grandma were not lived in that house. Grandpa visited and had no ghosts or bad memories, and we all move forward. Once again, with this house, we are being led to a new place to call home. A place without memories of grandma trying to climb the stairs, or Grandma using the en-suite shower, or Grandma sitting in that corner of the couch, or Grandma being rolled out in the chair. We are being led somewhere where we can start fresh again, and keep our memories where they belong, in our hearts and minds.
Grandpa was taken care of, as well. All the support he was getting was not enough for him. He was tired going to sleep and exhausted getting up, just because he could not come to terms with what had happened to his wife and by extension to him. Grandma knew that he was not going to take much more of this, because she knew him and his personality. She did not want to be a burden and although she deserved a lot more than what she got, she did not want to continue like this. She left and she left him. Left him to be free from concern for her, free to continue living a relatively normal life, and free from guilt that she ruined the rest of his life. With her head up and with the remaining of her dignity, she left.
She was the last person she did help. She helped herself. She lived a life with very few pleasures and a life where she felt guilt for other people’s sins. She was grateful for what her family did for her but she could not bare the thought of being the reason for the troubles. She was a little girl that loved to sing and dance, she loved children and she probably felt that she was one too. Her innocence was crushed in the troubles of surviving every day life, and she tried to make the most for herself, her family and her community. Well, not anymore. She could not speak and say her kind words, she could not sing and entertain her friends, she could not dance and express the grace that she was given. Lately , she could not hold her grandchildren that she loved so much, and her children that were so far away from her. I think she could not find a purpose to continue living, so she had to make a plan so that her exit is meaningful. And she did.
From the first time I heard Yiota screaming that her mother was gone, all through the process of mourning and healing, I never for one minute doubted that this was the best thing that could have happened to her. The best thing that could have happened that summer. And right from the start I believed she had help to pull this off. Maybe it was my mother, or maybe her cousin, or even her own mother. But as the summer is moving on and the season is turning to Fall, I can almost see my mother and Grandma sitting on a bench, under a thick shade, drinking coffee and having ice cream while watching us from above. And I am pretty sure I heard my mother saying “Μπράβο βρε συμπεθέρα, μια χαρά τα κατάφερες.”, and she would smile that shy smile of hers and filled with satisfaction she would nod: «Εμ, κάτι κάνουμε και εμείς».
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