Patmians are used to people coming and going, so their goodbyes tend to be very pragmatic. Nonetheless they assume someone who has come as often as me and stayed for as long will return. Some leave open the possibility that my return will come in some indefinite time period, while others assume they'll see me next year and yet a few more including Michaelis expect I'll come again in October after the summer rush. Michaelis in particular let me know that he's getting married in October, so once he's through that, he'd really like to get coffee. Cool. I can't promise I'll be here in October…. but the coffee seems very possible and a very nice invitation.
Michaelis also knows why I came to Patmos and every now and then asks, "So, how are things going?" with a tilt of his head that makes it clear he's trying to ask without prying. I always appreciate his care and his careful body language.
I also hadn't considered it at all, but Sunday night is a nice time to leave Patmos. Patmians take off Sunday more than any other day and on a Sunday evening, even those who have worked the day in their retail businesses take the evening off. Skala's town square is filled with people from around town – around the island sitting, chatting, drinking everything from coffee to wine to beer to ouzo. Groups of women, in particular, seem to get into very intense personal discussions and there is a sense of community and togetherness that's palpable. For me, it's like the entire cast of characters gathering after the show. I didn't know the lady who runs the pie bakery was close friends with the wife of the owner of the Agriolivadi Taverna. Oh, Christina and Stelios' wife are part of the same social circle? It's interesting to see how everyone intersects. Manolis who owns the organic shop is fantastic because even during his business hours, he's wandering around the town square talking to people such that his business is often left untended. Sunday night he really gets to let loose.
In the end, my going will not mean very much to anyone. Like me foreign visitors going is a part of life. The real people – the ones who matter – are in that town square on Sunday night.
My real people are waiting for me to come home. Sennen needed a review of why I leave on Sunday night and don't get home until Tuesday afternoon. We reviewed the itinerary. Ailyn was less interested in the details just so long as I get on with it and actually show up Tuesday afternoon.
I may not be Greek, but I am coming from Greece bearing gifts – I bought things for everyone and sadly, my bags are just as heavy leaving as coming. I had already prepaid extra baggage weight allowance – so it shouldn't matter anyway and the happy faces will be worth it.
Even a week ago, I expected to dread this juncture. Going home with so much ambiguity felt overwhelming and anxiety provoking. Surprisingly that's now how the day found me. I'm okay. I'm going with it. There is no certainty and I can't envision what I may encounter, but I no longer need to. I'm ready for whatever. Nothing can physically hurt me. Something will work out to my satisfaction one way or another and hopefully with more than less ease and grace. I am in a very different place than when I arrived.
It seems like so long ago I showed up cold, dragging by heavy bags down too many stone steps into a freezing apartment I could not get to warm up and wincing at cool white LED lighting meant for outdoors. I was anxious, tired and had no idea what might happen at home. Emily was furious at me for abandoning my children. I felt so many things but knew I needed enough space to find the clarity I would need to make intentional choices for the future.
I may not always know what I'm doing, but most of the time I have good instincts. As radical an idea as going away to Greece for ten weeks was, I stand by it as a good one. I have accomplished what I have needed from it and now I'll see what Emily has taken from this time. Most importantly, my kids did not feel abandoned. No crisis ensued. They're fine. They miss me and I miss them. But they are fine – even thriving. They know I'll be home and love them. Their piece of the equation was critical. A lot of how I felt and the results of this were really in their hands, or hearts.
In the few times I've spoken with Emily these past ten weeks, she's asked me a couple of times if I've been enjoying Patmos. Is it fun? I cocked my head a la Michaelis which she couldn't see. Nothing about my time in Patmos was about fun – especially when it was cold and most of the stuff including the beaches were closed. Sure, I wasn't sitting around miserable, but I felt like the question missed the very point. I came to Patmos off-season for the very purpose of space and protection – to remove myself from all the "stuff" of life. There were many great things I can say about the time, but fun doesn't quite fit the bill – and would have felt cheap.
Moments like that always remind me of all the times Emily has told me, "I know you – I know everything about you."
Right there is the hubris. Truthfully, none of us know everything about another person. While people have a certain base – a personality and a framework to life – they also grow and change too. Any good relationship of any kind requires interest and curiosity. If I want to be connected to you, I need to continually get to know you – because not only have you not revealed all of yourself to me, but you may not even know all of yourself. You too are changing. An essential act of care is inquiry and being open to being surprised.
There's nothing like arriving in Athens to be reminded I've been on an island for 10 weeks. Athens is a busy and not very attractive city. Because of my 6:30am departure tomorrow morning, I'm staying at the Sofitel Athens Airport – which is 50 feet from the terminal entrance. At 4am, nothing works better than to simply roll out of bed and walk across driveway. Of course when I arrived at 9:45 am, my room was not ready. So it seemed the perfect opportunity to go into the airport terminal and do my COVID test - so I'd be ready with plenty of time to spare.
The in-airport testing center was more like the American Embassy. At least 90 percent of testees were American – and apparently none of the had researched their needs or the process. Many were arrivals heading to their cruises – needing a test before showing up at the port. Others were heading from their cruises to their flights – often with an hour to 90 minutes to spare. Almost all of them were shocked by the lines, the process and worried about either missing their cruises or their flights. Some probably did miss their flights. I seemed to be the only person who was traveling in Greece without a cruise or tour. Meanwhile I had booked my test online two weeks ago and was cool as a cucumber. I'm not really sure why anyone traveling – especially on a cruise where I would expect the cruise line and/or travel agent to be highly instructive – would be so unresearched about their travel process. Nonetheless, I met some very nice people from across America and heard their many stories while occasionally helping people figure out their data roaming issues.
Today will be an easy one. I'm going to a Turkish-style hamam for a traditional bath and massage, then maybe a meal and back to the hotel. I'll get some good sleep before the big journey tomorrow.
Even with the jangles of the return to rough and bustling Athens, I'm relaxed and content. It's the end of this brief chapter in my life – an interlude in the midst of a much longer story arc. Whatever comes next, it's time to turn the page – it's bound to be interesting.
