WIth Grandma Anna in 1985, a couple of months before she passed away
#3 – October 25, 1985
Kifissia, Greece
My little one – how little “time” I spend with you – real time, meaningful time. I watch you progress by accident – by happenstance – you’re at a stage where you learn so easily. You want to learn, and I cannot devote that peaceful time to you. Your grandparents Kontou* are with us and have been for one month.
Sweet Christianna, may I die young like grand-mama Anna, so you do not suffer watching for me or caring for me. Your grandmother’s death has hurt me very much, it has been very painful. Sometimes, watching you I remember how much she adored you, “ψυχή μου,”** she would say – she never called anyone that, not even her own children. She would say, “She’s so beautiful, isn’t she – not because she’s ours, of course! She’s so beautiful.”
I hurt to think how little time she had with you – happy she had a few moments of your life, but even more sad that you will never know grand-mama Anna or your grandfather Philip, either. They are beautiful, wonderful people, Christianna. I will try to make you know them little one, but it will never be the same.
I’m a bit sad tonight – even cynical – I don’t understand this world of ours, it’s an unfair world, little one. I think of you and the joy you are, but then I look to the future and wonder if it’s all for any reason. Will there be any reason for you? Will there be any answers when you grow older that will make the world and life meaningful? Before I married your father, I used to say, we can’t look to what the future holds for we wouldn’t want to have children, fearful of nuclear holocaust, wars, uncertainty… live for each moment and hope man will find a solution in time for our children. Perhaps it’s a selfish reason to have wanted you – parenthood, I’m afraid is though – a selfish motivation to bring us, ourselves, joy.
After my mother’s death, my baby, I find I simply don’t understand anymore – what is this life all about – for what purpose? Moments of joy? Is that worth it all?
I don’t want to grow old like your grandparents Kontou, Christianna – I won’t hide that from you. Your grandfather loves to play with you and you sit with him as he tells you silly stories in a magazine – you sit so contently – but he’s 95 years old and tired of living. You shan’t grow up with him and that saddens me. Your grandmother Ermioni doesn’t understand who you are, she doesn’t understand her own existence, she also will not be here for you to grow up to know.
Sweetness, it will be horrible to be without grandparents. I don’t know what kind of people really your grandparents Kontou are, I met them too late in their lives. My parents, dear one, I can say, would have been one of the best in the world – we are both unlucky they died so soon.
This book is supposed to be dedicated to your growing up – not mine – so let me get back to you.
All this past week you’ve been learning the “m” sound, mamamama, type things, this morning you called mama instead of μπαμπά. You’ve been calling baba for 2 months now – the time finally came for you to know my “name”!
You make other funny cute sounds, a puffing “pfff” sound with a small jerk and your head. You recognize many things – Αφέντη, Pobye, kitten, cat, choo-choo train, your nose! Mouth – sometimes ears – kisses, hugs.
Yesterday, you took the spoon from me as I fed you and began to feed yourself. I filled the spoon, you put it in your mouth and gave it back to me. I gave it to you, and thus, you finished your banana cream.
You get around very quickly by crawling, of course you’ve been crawling for a long while. You’re sturdy on your feet and with various crutches, people, tables etc., you walk sure-footedly [sic]. You want very much to walk like us not quite though. It shan’t be long.
Christianna’s Notes & Translations
* “Grandparents Kontou” are my father’s parents
** “ψυχή μου,” in Greek translates to “my soul,” a term of affection, similar to saying “my love.” Read more about how to pronounce it here.
