Yiayia's Journey Part 21

In 1969, two great dreams would come to beautiful fruition for my beloved Yiayia--the positively progressive, indelibly feisty, and ever evolving Penelope Conomos. Her little boy who once hobbled around in braces, who labored as a farm hand, a shoe shiner, and a junior custodian while attending American public school was to accomplish one of Yiayia's greatest dreams. 

Now an academic - Tasso earned his doctorate in Oceanography from the University of Washington. It marked a beautifully poignant, full circle moment for the former peasant girl who'd never surpassed a 3rd grade education in her homeland of Greece.

But another life changing moment was also about to occur. While pursuing his studies at U of W, a fellow graduate caught Tasso's eye. She attended the same local Greek Orthodox church. She too was a first generation American, the child of immigrants from Lebanon. And she was lovely. So after a few years of friendship and dating, Tasso Conomos asked Janice Rottle to marry him.

And so in February of 1969, the former village girl - who once only ever travelled by donkey, then by ship, and later by train - eagerly packed her bags. Locked her door. And steered her now 1966 Dodge Dart to the airport. Destination: the Pacific Northwest. And on a beautiful yet rainy Seattle day, Giagia humbly watched life reaffirm itself once again.

Flanked by daughters Chrysanthy and Anastasia, she profoundly reflected upon her family's evolution. Her granddaughters - now flower girls - walking down the aisle. Tuxedo clad Tasso, proudly waiting at the altar. An elegant Janice, walking down the aisle on her father's arm. And the couple donning traditional stefana marital crowns in a Greek Orthodox ceremony so reminiscent of Yiayia's own wedding 38 long years ago in Greece.

A poignant photo below from that joyous day shows my father, mother, and Yiayia in profile. But it also illustrates a heartfelt absence. For Yiayia - so often forced to adapt and to endure after Papou's death - was also left to celebrate life's blessings alone. After all of the sacrifices my grandfather made, Papou would never witness the blessings bestowed upon his family. As my Yiayia always says, such is the life.

But at the wedding reception, she would recall a lesson learned from her dear mother in Greece. Despite its hardships and imperfections, life was always to be celebrated. And so Yiayia toasted the newlyweds, mingled with celebrants, and danced. She fox trotted the night away. And in a nod to her heritage, she led the bride in the traditional Greek wedding dance. 

Yes, in that tiny Seattle ballroom, Penelope Conomos savored 'the life' in all its imperfections, beauty, and promise. And very soon, my beloved Yiayia would have reason to rejoice yet again. For the Conomos family was about to grow by leaps and bounds in another beautiful reaffirmation of life.

Yiayia's Journey Part 22

In 1969, my grandmother Yiayia - the ever evolving and positively progressive Penelope Conomos - planned to embrace a welcome change. After so many years toiling in Greek fields and at American food processing plants, Yiayia prepared to step away from the conveyer belt for good. With her daughters happily settled in their own homes nearby, the former peasant girl - who'd never known a day of rest in her entire life - was ready to retire.

And even better - she was prepared to welcome son Tasso back into the Bay Area family fold.  After years of pursing his studies at the University of Washington, Tasso would finally return. Having earned a masters in Geology and his doctorate in Oceanography, the newly married Tasso would begin his career at the US Geological Survey in Menlo Park - - just 20 minutes away from Yiayia's little pink home withe the red door. Yes, John and Janice planned to move to the Bay Area post haste.. and they would arrive with happy news to share.  The ever evolving, always enduring, and indelibly feisty Penelope Conomos was about to become a grandmother once again. 

And so while Tasso conducted research on the San Francisco Bay in his ship "The Polaris" ~ Yiayia helped Janice settle into California living. And then nine months later, the family welcomed a beautiful baby girl, respectfully named Penelope. With her big brown eyes, little Penny was so beautiful ~ that according to family legend ~ the nurses at Stanford Hospital fought over who got to hold her. 

A then few years later, that beautiful cycle of life reaffirmed itself with the arrival of another baby. This time ~ the first and ultimately only grandson in the family. And in another great gesture of love, the proud parents named him after my Papou. The birth of baby John marked another bittersweet, full circle moment for the one time village girl turned retiree. 

It seemed that after so many years of having to adapt and to endure ~ the Conomos family circle was now complete. But as Yiayia would soon learn ~ God had other plans. He was about to bestow an unexpected blessing: a final granddaughter for the ever enduring, indelibly feisty, always evolving Penelope Conomos.

Yiayia's Journey Part 23

In 1974, my grandmother Yiayia- the resoundingly resourceful and always able Penelope Conomos - found herself entrusted with an enormous task. The former Greek village girl turned Americanized grandmother would take charge of the care and feeding of (my siblings) a 4 year old Penny and a 2 year old Johnny. Her son Tasso needed to take a business trip to Paris, France. And his wife Janice was to accompany him in what would become a life changing trip.

And so as they boarded that plane, Yiayia herded the children. Strapped them inside her 1966 Dodge Dart and whisked them home for two weeks under her ethnic loving care. Upon Tasso and Janice's return, the no nonsense Yiayia would say in her trademark Greek accent, "You should have stayed in Paris two more days. I would have had Johnny potty trained!" And while his appreciative parents might have shared a laugh at that remark, little Johnny was far from amused.

For he would not soon forgive his absentee parents for leaving him in the care of that strict taskmaster. The woman with the strange accent who grew her own vegetables and out maneuvered his every tantrum ~ took absolutely no prisoners. And to make matters even worse, poor Johnny would soon learn dreaded news. Mommy and Daddy brought home an unexpected souvenir from France--and 'it' was set to arrive nine months later.

And so on March 9th, the ever resourceful Yiayia took care of little Penny and Johnny once again. This time their parents would take another shorter--but no less monumental trip--to the nearby Stanford Hospital. In a small delivery room on the second floor, Janice was set to give birth. And a few hours later, a baby girl with a full head of hair barreled into the world. Her name ~ Alexa.

The next day, Yiayia would journey to that hospital to meet her youngest grandchild. Upon holding that tiny bundle, she warily inspected every newborn inch. For she never forgot the pain of losing her own baby girl 39 years ago. But determining that God's new creation seemed hearty and whole, she emitted her trademark laugh and reveled in this reaffirmation of life. Little did she know she'd met her match: a mini-me to meet her laugh for laugh and wit for wit ~ but whose returning love would exceed even her greatest expectations.

And so, after decades of hardship in her homeland of Greece and her new home in America, my Yiayia would enjoy a season of love and prosperity that would last for years. But another tragedy would once again cast a shadow upon her door. And the always evolving, ever enduring Penelope Conomos and her family would never be the same.

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Yiayia's Journey Part 24

In 1974, my grandmother Yiayia - the ever evolving, wonderfully witty Penelope Conomos - began to enjoy a season of prosperity. She gratefully welcomed the birth of her final grandchild - a baby girl named Alexa. And with her children and five grandchildren now all living nearby, the Conomos family circle was complete. 

And so over the years, the former peasant girl who'd never surpassed a 3rd grade education would attend every graduation. After leaving her primary family behind in Greece decades ago, she would spend every birthday and holiday with the new one she and Papou created in America. And time after time, the indelibly feisty Penelope Conomos would simply astound her 2nd generation American grandchildren. 

For they would often wonder ~ what did she do to keep her '66 Dodge Dart so pristine? How did she understand THEIR jokes, then laugh louder than anyone else? Just where did she find the energy to mow her lawn, clean the gutters and climb the roof of her home? And on summer fishing trips, how did she catch more trout than all of her grandkids combined? Yes, after all that wondering, they could only conclude one thing ~ their Yiayia was the eighth wonder of the world.

Even more years later, one grandchild seized upon the opportunity of a lifetime. Admitted into Santa Clara University - I would live less than a mile away from my beloved Yiayia  And so over the next four years, I'd pack my school bag. Walk to that little pink house. Knock on the red door. And be welcomed into a world of warmth with her trademark greeting ~ "Oh my Alexa, my sweetheart!"

And so after a little studying and a big Greek meal, we would sit at that tiny kitchen table and talk about 'the life.' And what emerged was the poignant story of a poor village girl who faced and overcame countless tribulations with courage and grit. Until that moment, I never truly appreciated the depth of loss she endured so that one day I could lead a richer life. But now, as I recall that my university sits across the street from the very factory where Yiayia labored for years, I can't help but cry for the profound irony.

In later years, Yiayia and I would share another poignant conversation at her kitchen table. I'd just accepted my first reporting job in Palm Springs, CA. And in tears, I shared that I was afraid to move away from home. But in her trademark Greek accent she said, "Oh my Alexa. Do not worry so. Remember that I left my mother in Greece to come to America. It will be alright." And yet, she would come to regret that long ago conversation. For that first job redirected the path of my life - and it now winds thousands of miles away from my Yiayia.

Over the years ~ weddings, baptisms, and just plain missing that feisty family matriarch would beckon me home for sweet reunions. But soon, a painful event would bring Yiayia and her children, grandchildren and now great grandchildren together once again. A loss so profound the Conomos family would never be the same.

Yiayia's Journey Part 25

On a December night in 2002, my Yiayia ~ the ever evolving, marvelous matriarch Penelope Conomos ~ savored a rare, full circle moment. With her youngest grandchild Alexa home for the holidays, the entire family reunited to plan the journey of a lifetime - a family trip to Yiayia's beloved homeland of Greece.

Their tour guide would be the always animated Anastasia--Yiayia's second daughter. For ever zealous about their heritage, she'd often visited those shores to trace and to preserve their family lineage. And with each visit, she developed a lifelong passion for the homeland and legacy that Yiayia had left behind so long ago.

But later that very night, the phone rang with terrible news. No less than an hour after the family parted, Anastasia suddenly collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. After conducting a battery of tests, the results were devastating. Seemingly overnight, Anastasia had developed stage 4 cancer. And she was now in the fight for her life.

But the cancer would not relent. And as her health deteriorated, Anastasia would ask Yiayia for one final gift: to visit their homeland one last time together. So at the age of 95, the still vigorous former peasant girl who'd once only ever travelled by donkey, then by boat and then by train, would now board a plane to grant her daughter's dying wish.

Upon arriving at the familiar shores of Kythera with my father and other relatives, Yiayia would lead Anastasia on final jaunts through time: To that lonely stone cottage overlooking the sea where Yiayia had miraculously been born. The platia where Papou had first glimpsed the beautiful, laughing Yiayia riding her donkey side saddle to market. And to the family cemetery - the eternal home of Yiayia s beloved mother and relatives. It was also where Yiayia's trademark feisty nature reared its wonderful head again.

For per Greek tradition, relatives were buried together. One by one they'd re-open the slab and add another family member to the club. So upon reading the names on that family grave, she'd say, "My beloved Mother!" Cue wailing. "My sweet cousin!" More crying. "Oh look, there's so and so". More weeping. And then finally, an abrupt: "And there's--. Wait, what the--? What the hell is SHE doing in there??" (We were later informed that she was a distant cousin who Yiayia thought was "loose" with the village men.)

Indeed, amid such sadness, Yiayia's inner fire provided her much needed strength. For no one truly comprehended just how much grit she'd have to muster to revisit the memories of her past. Each jaunt was a painful reminder of just how much she'd had to adapt and to endure over the years. And that very soon, she would have to do so yet again.

So upon returning to American soil beside her precious Anastasia, the usually ever gracious, always wise Yiayia became angry. And so having fulfilled Anastasia's last wish ~ my Yiayia made this solemn vow: that she would never return to the shores of her beloved homeland of Greece again. Never. Such is the life.