You’ve Got The Love

There are few reasons I would get up at 8am on a Saturday – but having my house cleaned in a place like Patmos where arranging a cleaner in summer is already a challenge is absolutely one of them. I had half an hour from the time my alarm went off to stare in a daze for a few minutes, get myself dressed and ready, get Michelle's hot water going and then convince her to ACTUALLY wake up. When with a tweet of the strange bird-sounding doorbell Immanoula arrived at 8:30, I had only to pay her, grab my things, take out the recycling and head to Stelios' to write.

While getting ready I heard the church bells. Not the "church services are starting" bell (which would have been odd on a Saturday) but the bells that go on for a minute or more signaling something important like a christening, wedding or funeral. I hope it's a christening. The bells mean two things for me personally: the streets will be a little emptier than usual (which isn't saying that much) and I have about an hour until Stelios will be flooded by espresso deficient parishioners having their post-church catch-up. So I had best enjoy the quiet and smoke-free air now.

My brief walk from home to the recycling bins behind town and back up to Stelios made clear I seem to have a lot of non-church-goers in my circle. I exchanged morning greetings with Andreas at the gelateria. He was the last person Michelle and I saw late last night as we capped off our evening with his creamy gelato and as usual chatted in a melange of languages. As I was almost to the bins, I passed the gym where Coach Thanassis – who the kids adore and have been going to for fun classes since 2019 – pulled up. Thanassis runs the gym on his family's property  - their house immediately adjacent. He asked me about my winter and I him only to learn his mom passed a month ago.

While apparently it was the end of a two-year battle with cancer – which can often come as a blessing – I was saddened both for Thanassis and his warm, kind family but also because I knew his mom. Her Patmian family emigrated to Ohio after World War II and she was born there. Thanassis' mom sounded like she could be my neighbor and acted that way as well. She was always welcoming, helpful, kind and rode her bicycle through town smiling and greeting people. I of course expressed my condolences to a clearly pained Thanassis who seemed happy to hear how I thought of his mom.

On the way back to Stelios', I found Christos cleaning tables at Cafe Mostra which essentially hides my property from the "main road". Christos is about my parent's age and can always be found at the cafe. He keeps an eye on my property and because Mostra owns a small piece of what is in effect my front lawn, he sometimes has gardening tips and manages visits from Michaelis the gardener. This is an arrangement carried over from the prior owner. Christos and I have a warm relationship in which we have occasional warm conversations in two languages – he speaking only Greek and me speaking only English. We both understand only a few words of each other's language, yet somehow the conversations feel like they work. Today's went something like this:

"Good morning, how are you?"

"I'm good thank you, and you?"

"Good, good. Is your girlfriend still in the house?"

"Yes, she is."

"Oh good. Hey, have you seen a package that might have been delivered to your house by mistake? It's meant for my two (adult) boys."

"No, I'm so sorry, I haven't seen it. I'll let you know if I do."

"Thanks, I appreciate it – have a good day."

I have absolutely no idea how we did it or why it worked – but I feel quite certain that's what we said. It often seems to be that way with Christos.

Alex who along with his wife Ioanna own Alas Grill next door to Stelios' said hi and chatted briefly as I headed in. Alas is among a handful of restaurants that operates year-round and being a gyro place, stays open until 1 or 2 in the morning most nights. I asked him when he rests. He said never – he works all the time during summer although somehow he doesn't show his exhaustion. His kids and mine are the same ages and because Ioanna is British-Greek, Alex's kids speak native English and have played with mine before. 

I have logged in A LOT of hours at Stelios' over many years and despite him not necessarily seeming the most buddy-buddy type, he knows me more than I realized. My large water and spanakopita were out within seconds of my arrival. Mrs Stelios (I've never learned her first name and we're a couple of years too late for me to comfortably ask) who is a secret retail kingpin – owning and operating at least three, if not four seemingly distinct clothing and art shops in the town square – greeted me and chatted briefly during one of her periodic check-ins at the gelateria. 

"Patmians are the kindest people," Maria told me. "I love them and have missed them so much!"

Yesterday in a moment of gratitude as I cruised across the Aegean on the way to beautiful beaches, I texted Maria who sold me my house to thank her for her warmth and guidance when I met her. She had suggested the house would be the right place for me and my kids to heal from a divorce and I wanted to let her know she was right. She also has an incredible spiritual energy to her and somehow our meeting for me to see the house became a heart-to-heart talk and a connection that felt like I had just made a friend. I haven't seen her since that one meeting in May 2022, but we have occasionally texted. 

An Australian-born Greek now living in Athens, Maria called me back a few hours later to tell me how touched she was and to catch up. She said she had wanted to reach out a few times but wasn't sure if I wanted that. She was of course curious about the house and said she had been planning to come to Patmos herself for a visit because she misses it so much. I offered her use of the house when we aren't around and that it would be my honor to have her stay to which she cried. Ultimately, she and her husband sold the house because the oldest of her three sons developed bone cancer in his leg, leading to years of treatments and surgeries during which they stopped spending their summers on Patmos. While giving up summers on Patmos may not have been at the top of the list of what stressed Maria during those years, it certainly added insult to injury. As for me, Patmos is an important place to Maria and it spiritually and emotionally fed her. Her memories of happy summers with her three sons occupy a significant place in her heart.

Much as I was grateful to Maria for helping me find my way into this house in Patmos, Maria is grateful her oldest is healthy again. Yes, he lost his entire left leg. However, having always been athletic, he has become a Paralympics athlete and will compete this summer in Paris. Maria told me she is supporting him by making his meals, making sure he rests and relaxes and gets good sleep. In other words, she's full-time mothering her 24 year-old, maybe because it's the most she can do right now.

"We want our children to be healthy and happy and to thrive," Maria told me. "That's all we want. When we have this, when our family is well, we can be happy too." 

I sense that Maria won't be able to breathe until enough time has passed to know the cancer is truly behind them. Until then, she'll cook, watch and pray.

"Looking up at the monastery was my favorite part of that house," Maria said. "It is such a gift."

I sent Maria photos of the house as it is now and get the feeling she may well take me up on my offer. She certainly deserves to have that view.

We talked about our sense of connection and decided we will meet up in Athens when I pass through. She's near the airport anyway and I'll have a couple of times of staying at the Sofitel Athens Airport during which I could go meet up with Maria. She's a good reminder that even brief encounters can form important connections and that sometimes we're linked to people in ways we don't fully understand.

Maria would undoubtedly have a clearer conversation with Christos and I know she and Prokopis – who is also an Australian-born Greek – at the hardware store are friendly, with him knowing what she's been through. Honestly, what parent's heart wouldn't break for her. Maria had a place here – connections and ties she developed and cherished – just like I do and she feels its absence now. Something feels fulfilling – maybe balancing – about the idea that Maria and I might work things out so she doesn't have to lose out in order for me to gain. Patmos provides many flavors of spiritual support and connections. We're all better off sharing the love.