On the Greek side
Mom always told me there was nothing there at the graveyard, nothing worth finding anyway. When I found them and put the rose bush with the branches I had found, seemingly especially for them and myself – the exact number of tiny roses as her siblings, except one was bloomed and this seemed symbolic at the time. I had always wanted them to be at peace, her Mother and my aunt Helen more than any of the others. Later I found out about my mothers great grandfather, I still put flowers on his grave when I can, he saved her live twice as a child and I’m told he did many things for the greek community in Seattle, all my digging I cannot find out much about him, I’ve always been so curious, she loved many of them but still, she would tell me to let these ghosts go.
Holiday Blues
We had tried for years, my brother and I, to reconnect with my aunt kitty, Katherine as she now likes to be called but she was always kitty to me. Also the cousins that my family had spent so much time with but each time I could hear the pain in my mom’s voice when I would tell her we were going to see them; my parents traveled for 10 years so the holidays were sad, I was very alone and my brother newly divorced this year and it seemed like a good idea to spend one with my aunt and her – big fat greek family. Big as in – two couples with kids merged and had more kids, fat because – well fat with greed and envy. Still, we tried to ‘fit in’. This is when we found out my grandfather had died, I think it was a year before this ‘holiday occurance’ it was not a nice Christmas dinner, I am not sure what to call it. None of them had told us and NONE of them had told my mom, I just couldn’t believe the coldness. In the living room was a shrine of sorts, pictures of him, with all of the kids, even grandkids but none of my mom or my family.
Amidst the abuse in the household, my mom had mothered 4 of her siblings, her own mother was beaten as well, Marianna – what a beautiful name – she was full Greek, died when I was a child of cancer, I cried at the funeral, not because of her but because I could not sit with my big brother, he and my Dad had to sit on opposite sides of my mother to protect her from her own family. From the small amounts I had heard as a child and on she had to pick up the slack as, not the oldest, but the ‘not as pretty so would likely not marry a rich man anytime soon’ child of the family. My aunt Helen married a rich man, and he too beat her like her father had and their two sons, my aunt kitty married a man she thought was rich, and had 2 kids (the cousins we spent so much time with, she would drop them off at our house for days on end while she seemingly took to finding a ‘real’ rich 2nd husband) and she did, they married and had several more of their own, a sort of sick Brady Bunch I guess. After this we never heard from kitty and I was so sad, I loved my cousins.
And the truth shall set you free?
At some point, on my grandfathers death bed, this information from my cousins – what an awful Christmas, kitty pleaded to have my mother disowned, something about her children (the sick Brady Bunch ones) needing college money, he was a wealthy man and did in fact disown my mom. When he died we received nothing and it was not until 10+ years later that my mothers brother died and the ghosts came back, I’m not sure they ever left. We ( my siblings and father) received money from his trust, I guess he had set aside what he had received for my mom and her family, uncle Alex for the win, what an amazing man – I still remember his handle bar mustache, quiet demeanor and his flannels he would always wear! My brother was more angry than thankful, from the paperwork, it showed all of what the others in the family recieved, the attorney told my brother my aunt kitty had attempted to stop the trust ( I don’t know the verbiage – being carried out?) she hired her own attorney but we still received some of the trust.
Aunty Rose
Even though I had listened to my mother, not right away, and not all the way, I did let most of the ghosts go. Except one, a distant aunt whom my mother would frequently comment on and bring up, she loved this women deeply but my mother never spoke of such deep things, I think it was too painful but she would say, “you’re so lucky, you got the auntry rose gene”. So, ever the curious one, I asked around, I still don’t know much but she was beautiful – I’ve only found one picture of her; since my mom married a poor sailor her parents would not financially help nor support the marriage but aunt Rose did, she threw them a simple but lovely wedding party -just one photo of her though, her in a yellow dress, low in the back, a beehive hair style, her siloette so elegant, while smoking a cigarette at the wedding. She apparently was an addict, had been married many times and had killed herself, so I am left with this ghost, just one more piece of trauma in my DNA causing me to wonder if I’ve become a self fulfilling prophecy of sorts, minus the marriages or the tragic end. I do speak to my cousins, minimally but they loved my family, they know how special that piece of this tragic puzzle was, if my aunt Rose was alive I would love her, same with my great great grandfather, some love just needs to be left in the past though, immortal and yet in the past.
The greek side, as it turns out, is not a side to chase, in my case anyways. I went to a Greek festival this year, I talked to many, many ya’ ya’s about my great great grandfather (Rose was his sister) and they all knew kitty, even they suggested I not keep turning over stones – I left the church that day knowing that this was a mental and spiritual path I no longer cared about chasing, they are all dead, most of them anyway. Dead and awful, dead and sad, or alive and fat with despair and greed.
“To be relieved of love, she thought, was to give up a terrible burden.” – The Pilot’s Wife by Anita Shrev
