herb-infused olive oil with garlic + lemon peel

One of my biggest regrets in life is that I didn’t record my grandparents narrating their story. I know a lot of facts about them; where they were born, who their siblings were, the year they immigrated to Canada. I know those types of things and yet, I don't feel I know very much at all. And I think that's because stories of real substance aren't fact-based. They are filled with personal accounts. Special memories only few know about. They are filled with emotion and raw truth and little anecdotes that bring the story to life. My grandparents led such beautiful and amazing lives, but also quite difficult and tragic, and although I know the facts, something is missing for me. Their story doesn't have a beginning or an end really. It's just a lot of information floating around in my head. I know they were good people. Strong and hard-working. Honest and funny. I only wish I had taken the time to properly record them talking about their life. From the very beginning. Almost like an interview, but with a lot more personal interest. 

But time is a paradox. We always think we have so much of it until one day, we realize we actually don't. Before we know it, those opportunities that once seemed so viable, are no longer an option. And life sometimes does give us the chance to make things right. A second chance to renew and rebuild and mend.

But not always.

Death. It’s so final. So painstakingly definite. Offering absolutely no opportunities for do-overs.

Sometimes, more than anything else, I want to hear the sound of my grandparent's voice. The sound of their deep inhales and sighs. Their laughter. The knowledge of history and the binding stories of love and resilience. I want to hear about their strength and spirit and the love they had for their children. It makes me wish I had caressed their faces in the palms of my hands when I had the chance and thanked them, profusely and with conviction, for their sacrifices. For the depth of their love.

I feel heartbroken that I couldn't execute the very thing I really wanted. The one thing I desperately needed, but didn't know at the time. The very thing my soul ached for. 

10 Questions I’d ask my grandparents if I could do it over again...

1. When you left Greece, did you lose touch with anyone that meant a lot to you? Do you know where they are now?

2. How did your parents choose your name? Were you named after a family member? A Saint in the Greek Orthodox Church? 

3. What did you want to be when you grew up? I know war doesn’t bring forth endless opportunities, but you must have had dreams. Tell me about them. And don’t leave out a single detail.

4. What is your biggest regret? I know you gave your children the very best of yourself. I know you did the same for your spouse. But if you could change something, what would it be? 

5. Tell me about your mother and father. When you close your eyes and picture their faces, what do you see? How do you remember them?

6. What is the best piece of advice your mother gave you? 

7. What is your favourite dish to make? Is it a secret family recipe? And if so, can you share it with me? I want to place it in a special spot and re-create it when I think of you.

8. What is your most prized material possession? A musical instrument? A music box? A little copper bell? An intricate piece of crochet lace? I have seen all of these things around your home and often wondered about them.

9. What was my mother or father like as a child? How do I remind you of them? 

10. What is the one thing you want people to remember about you?

How do I not know any of these things? It's rather heartbreaking and perhaps a bit sad at the same time. And that last question. I could barely write it down without my eyes filling with tears.  

What is the one thing you want people to remember about you?

What would they have said? I get lost in thought over that one sometimes.

It’s often the hardships and trials and everyday moments that illustrate who people really are.

Not in a memoir kind of way.

In a candid, honest and real kind of way.

There's still time you know. I'm going to come up with a new set of questions about my grandparent's and record my mom and aunt talking about them. And although it won't be exactly the same as hearing it directly from my grandparent's, it will give me something. The gift of time really.  

And perhaps it will even give me a deeper connection with the people I called yiayia and papou. 

xoxo