When I was ten years old, my Papou died. I had never really dealt with death before, just once when my Big Yiayia passed away, but I was only three or four years old and I don't remember much. So my first actual experience with losing a loved one was traumatic and it is something I reflect on often, especially when the holidays start rolling around.
I'd like to be able to say that, since it's been over ten years since he passed, that I handle holidays with grace, but that'd be a complete lie. About a week before Thanksgiving, my depression worsens and it never completely goes away until after Orthodox Easter, which is usually in March or April.
My Papou was just a holiday kind of guy because he loved to cook. He would rarely even let his animals eat dog food; he'd cook steak and chicken for them all of the time. He had this big boisterous laugh that made his eyes crinkle and it's something that is still noticeably missing from Christmas dinner at my aunt's house.
I spend more time in cemeteries than I'd like to admit. I visit once for his birthday, then again a week later at Christmas time. One visit on Orthodox Easter, another to remember the day he died and I usually either go with my father on Father's Day, or I go alone. And let me tell you something: it never gets easier.
I always think, "this time will be different, I won't break down crying," but I do. Every. Single. Time. It's hard for me to go to Christmas dinner and be surrounded by the rest of my Greek family. Actually, it feels wrong. The same can be said for Orthodox Easter at my cousin's house. I go, because it's the proper thing to do and I enjoy seeing the res of my family, but truthfully? I dread it. I always find a way to leave early because I don't feel like my place is among them anymore. My place was with him, sitting on his lap and ripping open presents and then throwing them aside. My place was leaning on his shoulder and getting grossed out when he'd try to make me eat lamb. There's an empty spot inside of me and I honestly can't tell you why. I was young, I don't remember an awful lot about him, just a few significant moments. But I know the love that he had for me, just like I know the love I have for him. I'd like to think that I can continue to wade my way through life without choking up at holidays and major life events, but I know that's impossible. I still cry when I think of the fact that he won't see me graduate college, he won't meet his first great-grandchildren and he'll never see me get married.
That hurts. But it also gives me so much strength, strength that I put into focusing on my remaining family and friends and loving them even more than I do now, if that's even possible. So this holiday season, grab your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, anybody that you love so deeply, and just hug the shit out of them, because you never know if you'll ever have that moment with them again.
