Image taken while flying from Athens to New York
My mother’s funeral was a very heavy event. OK, what funeral isn’t? What I mean though, is that due to her position in the Greek government, there were many members of parliament, former and current ministers, and even the President of the Hellenic Republic in attendance. With so much family and the many friends and co-workers, the church was at capacity; among the many feelings I had that day, I also felt pride that so many people came to pay their respects, bid my mom farewell and honor her life.
At Greek funerals, the immediate family members of the deceased stand in a row, in the front of the church, near the coffin, during the liturgy. So, I stood there awkwardly, waiting for the people to sit down and the priest to start his sermon, looking around the church, nodding and smiling whenever my eyes met another person’s gaze.
During one of my panoramic examinations of the room, I noticed a woman enter the church alone. I had never seen her before. She was young, in her mid-to-late 30’s, tall and beautiful. She was wearing a camel-colored long coat, black heels, her dark, long hair recently blown-out; she just really stood out to me. As she walked toward the front of the church, I saw tears rolling down her cheeks, under the black sunglasses she had not removed.
I leaned over to my father, who was standing next to me, nudged him and asked him who she was. He looked at me, somewhat surprised, and said,
“Oh, you noticed her?”
I was puzzled by his reaction.
“She was a flight attendant on your mom’s final flight from Boston,” he continued, “She noticed your mother tearing during the flight and asked her what was wrong. She sat with her through the rest of the flight. Your mom asked me to let her know the funeral date when the time came.”
