Up until last March, I had never experienced the death of a close family member. I should have counted myself lucky, but I wasn't really aware of what the feeling was, so it wasn't on my radar. With my grandparents, loss was sometimes lingering in the back of my mind, but just as a passing thought or particularly unpleasant daydream. March 1st, 2014 was the day my Papu (for the non-Greeks, my grandfather) left this world. It's a day I have tried to forget, but now I'm realizing I shouldn't because with tragedy comes valuable life lessons.
A tighter bond
When a loss of this importance happens, it's only natural that your family holds on to each other a little bit tighter. For my family, my Papu was a big deal. He was such a character. Full of life and spirit, sometimes good, sometimes a pain in the ass. He was the soul of our family, who made each of us want to be better people.
After he passed, my grandmother was all alone. This was probably one of the harder parts of the entire ordeal. My grandparents were married for 65 years and were madly in love up until the day my Papu died. I remember him telling me once, "people ask me when do I want to go and I say, 'The day after Tessie goes." Their wedding photos could rival Hallmark, and I will always yearn for a love like theirs: pure and true. As he used to say, "65 years..when you're with a person for that long, you become one person." I can only wish for a love like that.
On the day he passed, I happened to be driving home from work and got the phone call from my dad that he was gone. I raced over to my grandparents house and found my dad waiting outside for me. We hugged and in that moment I can't say that I'll ever have the perfect words for what I was feeling. I felt pain and comfort all at the same time. Once I got into the house, I was showered with love, sadness, and a communal sense of dread from my other family members. We sat on the couch with my grandmother for hours. I will never take family for granted after experiencing loss this profound.
That's what friends are for
Family becomes tighter with loss, but it's also good friends that help in a way you didn't think you needed. When it happened, one of my close friends came to my house with flowers and a shoulder to cry on. I didn't even need the flowers, but she's the thoughtful kind. There was nothing I needed more right at that moment and she delivered it right to my door. I'll always be thankful for that.
I was in a relationship when my Papu passed away, and my ex actually got the chance to meet my Papu once before it happened. When we all sat down, he looked at my ex and said, "Who the fuck is this guy?" Papu was many things, subtle was not one of them. A couple weeks after he passed, my mom, my ex, and I had a sort of tiny memorial for my Papu by drinking martinis (his favorite drink) and toasting him. For me, it was a great way to celebrate him and make the difficult goodbye a little easier. Things were rough for the family at the time, so it was nice to do something so filled with love and good intention. Afterwards, when I was lying down with my ex, I started to cry thinking about everything. Now, normally guys don't really handle girls crying very well, but I do have to hand it to him in this instance. When I told him I was sad, he just said, "He loved you, and you loved him." He made it sound so simple, and in that moment, it brought me a lot of peace. To this day, when I can feel myself getting emotional about my Papu, I remember those words and it still brings me some piece of mind. Yes, life eventually played out and I'm no longer with that person anymore, but moments like that stay with you. Doesn't matter who it was.
Remembering helps
You would think that remembering someone who has died would make it harder, but that's not the case for me. I inherited most of my Papu's old photos when he passed because I would always come to their house to look through them and he would tell me stories of his extraordinary (albeit mostly dramatized) life. But I lived for it. To this day, I still have the box full of old photos and when I'm feeling nostalgic, I'll heave it out and go through it. Remembering him keeps him alive in my heart, so I make a point to do it every once and awhile.
I'll take this opportunity to introduce you to my Papu. Marx Arvanitis was 93 years old when he died on March 1st, 2014. He was born in Hells Kitchen, New York City and would never let you forget it. Marx was a proud soldier in WWII in France, and when he came back, he was set up with my Yaya, or grandmother, Tessie. Around a month later, they were married. My Papu was a florist, and I can still hear him say, "always remember to talk to you plants, they need the oxygen to stay beautiful." He would tell me fantastic stories about his jobs decorating at The Plaza in New York City, and how he swears he ran right into Frank Sinatra once. He was a romantic, and a dreamer and I loved him with ever fiber of my being. Every year, I would print up all of the writing I did and make a book just for him to read. It was his requested Christmas present from me. I lost my biggest cheerleader last year, but when I remember him, I can feel his spirit in my writing.
There will be bad days
I'll admit it, life goes on. When deaths hits a family, there is about a month or so when it's so dark you don't know if you'll ever come up for air. But then something happens that you can't quite put your finger on and just like that, you're back to going through the motions. It never really leaves you though. It's been a year and three months since he died and I still have dark moments.
What gave me the idea to write this post was an emotional moment I had earlier today when I was driving to get some dinner. I had been feeling down in the dumps for no reason in particular, and suddenly "Young at Heart" started playing in the car. Any Frank Sinatra song is bound to make me think of my Papu, so I just lost it. When I got home, I thought it would be a great idea to write through the emotions I was feeling, because writing things down is an extremely cathartic way of owning your emotions, and then releasing them.
So, that was my journey with loss and it may not be yours, but everyone has their own story. Although I feel like I've come to a place of acceptance that he's gone, life won't quite be the same. The world lost a bright spark the day he left, and I'm doing everything I can to keep it burning for him.
Have you experienced a loss? What helped you through it?
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