Cantar De Procella

Home alone. Always welcome. A phone call, my cousin had to be in Athens for two days,one of his friends was getting married,he needed a place to stay. Hadn't seen him in years,Ι of course welcomed him. Was good to see him again,he's changed.Haven't we all. Welcomed his girlfriend who came over to see him just for one night as well.
He went to the wedding,I went to a christening. One of my best friends,for whom I was also the matron of honour at her wedding,was baptising her son. Felt a little awkward,was packed with family,not friends. And as usual,they gave me something to do,something to take care of. I was the Candy Lady, in charge of the lil table they had full of candy,to give to kids and adults alone,plus the traditional μπομπονιέρες. No complains. My friend and her mother insisted I stay for the dinner they had prepared for the family after,but I didn't. Felt awkward,and if my friend really wanted me there,she'd have told me earlier,no? No hard feelings,I just...felt weird.
Wednesday night.I come home after 10,with a pounding headache.Had met my father and godfather for 15 minutes,they came by work to give me something. My father brought me the most beautiful present ever : an almost completely flat brown stone he found at the beach, on which he had glued short plastic  tubes filled with some water. There was a hibiscus flower from his garden on each. I was moved beyond belief. When I thanked him,on the phone,of course, his words had me in tears : "I don't have many people left to love any more, Fay. You and your brother are my life."
I cannot think of that without my eyes welling up.
When I got home,after work and after a number of other things that "normally" would have taken me a day to get over,I landed in my bed and spent the next 40 minutes crying. What about? Work, life,the universe,you name it. I was exhausted,scared,with a pounding headache,and clueless as to what I'm supposed to do with things I face in my life. I curled up and,for the first time since I learned about MS,I asked for help out loud. From God, from my dead grandmother,from anyone who might hear.I implored for guidance,for help,for protection,speaking words I rarely if ever utter to human beings.
When I logged on Skype,Ionis showed up. Out of nowhere. As usual,he shows up when I need him the most. We spent three hours catching up,where he listened to me,I listened to him,and he really cheered me up.He even lulled me till I was asleep.I told him he must be my guardian angel or something,always showing up when I most need it. He refused it,of course,but I know he was moved.
I wake up by my phone ringing. My mother. My uncle,died,some time in the night. His heart failed.
I hang up,and I'm torn.
A part of me has the usual reactions to something like that : shock,anger,pain. My thoughts go to my cousins,my aunt. The funeral was the same day,my mother was on her way with more family members. I've never been to a funeral as an adult. Ever. Mostly by choice. Today, though,I went.
There was a part of me,that when I heard my uncle died, thought "this,is a gift". I know what you'll think,that I'm crazy. I don't care. For me,this,was a gift.A gift I sorely needed. Two days away from work. To compose myself,remember what's important. To see,feel,learn.
I've said it a million times and I'll keep on saying it : the kindness of strangers,moves me deeply. Another person showed up today,and was there to offer me his support even from afar,speaking words of such devotion and caring that I was left gaping.Yet again,someone I never expected,showed up and,even from afar,tried to be there for me,support me,help me. Yet again, I felt like my plea had been heard,and all around me everyone and everything was trying  to help me.
Even work.I called to let them know,and they were more than understanding.
Then,I went to my dead uncle's house.
Then,to the church.
Then,to the cemetary.
Then,to the place where we had the traditional coffee and brandy.
Then,home.

I cannot put into words the emotions,feelings,sensations,the people I saw after decades,their eyes,their embraces,the wealth of information and pure life I was exposed to and experienced. It's beyond me.

But I will write about the priest's eyes.

Blue,clear, young, compassionate,kind,deep.

I think I fell in love with him,for a while.

No wedding without crying,no funeral without laughter.

Loss,forces you to grow up.

In love,death,and glory,we're alone.
Completely alone.



But please,let me come with...







Please...I'm scared....will you hold my hand,and stand by me?