In retrospect, there have been so many photos to share since my last post, and maybe I will include some in the ensuing days or weeks. But I am here now to share this photo and a few thoughts.
The Orthodox Church has such a beautiful way of remembering our departed loved ones. Rather than say we have "buried" them, we say instead that they have been "sown" into the ground, like wheat, which must be sown in order to have new life. We have an ancient custom of preparing a wheat dish (made from whole wheat berry) for the memorial service -- mixing in sweets like raisins and pomegranate (which I couldn't find this time of year), and also nuts -- as part of the memorial of our loved one. Tomorrow we will pray together after church that the soul of my pappou is resting peacefully in a place of no pain, sorrow nor suffering, but rather a place of everlasting life, in company of the angels and saints and of God Himself.
Though my pappou was not a deeply spiritual or religious man, he lived the life that Christ said He expects us to live. In the Gospel of Matthew, Christ explains the last judgement, saying: 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' Pappou, though a man of little means, was a man who worked very hard -- and was willing to share what he had with others. His small apartments were always open to family who needed to place to stay, to convalesce, or to get back on their feet. Though he often worked two or three jobs at a time, when he could, he would do such selfless things as take public transportation (he never drove) to meet one of his daughters at work or school to accompany them home, especially late in the evening. One other little story which I think is so touching: he told me once that it was important to learn Greek, so that I could talk with my mother "privately" in public. For example, he said, one time he was on the bus with my own mother, and an old woman gave her a linty piece of candy out of her coat pocket. He quietly told her, in Greek, to take the candy, smile and say thank you, and say you'd eat it later. ... The story illustrates how not only was he concerned about protecting his daughter, but that he considered too the old lady's feelings.
As we look forward to Pascha and Christ's glorious resurrection, the sadness we all feel as we miss Pappou is lessened a bit by the Hope. The little "craisin" flowers are a nod to that hope, that the Spring, rebirth, is very much alive for Pappou right now, in an eternal life with God.
