May 17, 2023

On the eve of my Mother-In-Law’s funeral, I wanted to take a moment to write my own special tribute to her as well as share her obituary for those who knew her.  Mano and I married on February 20, 2010, which also happens to be the day that I met my MIL for the first time.  Seriously, this is s a true story.  Mano’s mother, sister, and nieces lived a few hours away from where I lived at the time, however, with Mano living in Texas, and having no reason to visit on my own and some other family situations that were happening at the time, we never met prior to our wedding.  So, the day of the wedding it was.

My sweet mother was nice enough to host a brunch before our 3 pm wedding where I was introduced to my MIL, Kaliopi, aka, Yia Yia, which is Greek for Grandmother.  This is also the first time that I met my SIL and nieces.  Just think about that for a moment.  How crazy is that?  I wish I could remember all the things that were said, but the best part of what I’d like to know is “what was she thinking about me?”  I’m sure it was something like, “What is my son doing marrying this gal?  She’s not Greek, what could he see in her?”  Or maybe it was something like, “Maybe if we don’t show up for the wedding Mano won’t marry this gal.” Side note, they were late to the wedding, but it was because Mano’s Godfather wouldn’t quit yapping and get into the car and head to the beach.

Anyways, fast forward years into our marriage and our journey, Yia Yia and I formed a bond, that was very special to me, and I know that it was special to her.  I know that she loved and appreciated me for taking care of her son and his children.  I know that she loved and appreciated that I loved her family, not just Mano and his kids, but his sister and her amazing daughters.  You see, Yia Yia, was 76 years old when we married and as with all old Greek ladies, she’d been dying since WAY before I came into the picture.  Year after year, we all endured her being overly emotional, crying tears at every major holiday because it was going to be the “last” holiday she would spend with us, that was the theme at every birthday, at the weddings of her grand-daughters, and the birth of her great-grandbabies.  We all expected these moments, but with me, I was the one that always joked with her that she was going to outlive us all.  We had a banter back and forth that was so fun.  One minute she’d be talking to Mano, or his sister, crying and dying, and the next minute she would be talking to me, and I’d have her back to accepting that she was part of the living.  Her voice would go from being low and depressive to a higher-octave and giggly.  She was a hoot.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I can tell you, next to my own mother, she was my biggest and I mean BIGGEST prayer warrior.  She brought me an icon, she went to church and lit candles for me, prayed for me, and she knew that I was going to be okay.  She asked me all the time in her broken English, “You okay?”  To which I always replied, “Yes, I’m going to be okay.”  She knew that was because she had a direct link to God.  Another side note, Yia Yia firmly believed that the only way that communion works, prayers work, etc. if when they are delivered in a Greek church.  You gotta love that!

There were so many other things that I loved and admired about her, and I enjoyed listening to the stories she would share telling us about the times of the past.  Sharing memories of when she was a young girl growing up in Greece, sharing stories of when Mano and Vickie were young and all the fights they got into, the most famous one is where Vickie threw a knife at Mano that stuck into the China Cabinet where the mark remains today.  I admired that Mano’s dad and Yia Yia were married via an arranged marriage that lasted until his death in 1997. Marriages are hard enough when you love the person you’re marrying – can you even imagine how hard an arranged marriage would have been?  My MIL had two children that lived, Mano and his sister, and another couple of children that did not.  She was younger than Mano’s father by 11 years and I know that she had to have been so alone and shattered when he passed, and she was only 64 years young.   She endured many trials in her life, she never drove, she was educated, she worked, she raised kids and grandchildren, and loved on great-grandchildren, she buried most of her family members, cooked for us, prayed for us, loved on us and honestly, she was the glue that held everyone together.  She was the true matriarch of the family, and I loved her.

I will forever be honored to have been part of her family and to have had the wonderful moments that I’ve had with her for many years.  I will forever be honored that I married her son, was accepted into the family, and loved as fiercely as she loved her own children.  The journey to losing someone in our lives is never an easy journey, but unfortunately, it’s a necessary journey.  It’s a bridge that we will all cross one day and whether the journey is one of our own parents, an aunt or an uncle, a brother or sister, or God-forbid our child, however, through the journey hopefully you can focus on the memories.  The good times, the great times, and the wisdom that this person left with us and for us. 

So, as we all prepare to say our final goodbyes to our Yia Yia tomorrow, just remember to hold those around you close. Cherish the stories that your elders share, go visit your mother, father, sister, brother, son, or daughter, even when you don’t feel like it because there will be a day that you won’t have that opportunity again. Hug those you love, as we know all to well, tomorrow is never promised, so cherish it. In closing, Yia Yia, S ‘agapó polý polý polý (Σ ‘αγαπώ πολύ πολύ πολύ). You will forever be missed. Thank you for your love, your encouragement, your kindness, and your trust. We promise to take care of each other and to make you proud. You have left a legacy that will be honored for years!

Xo,

Tracy