The Heart's Path

Dear Dimitri,
Soon, you will be 18 months old – 1.5 years! This is known to be an incredible milestone age for young ones. Many believe this is when children shift into consciousness, starting to understand their emotions and others’ too! Dimitri, you officially shifted about 1.5 months ago. The growth in you is REMARKABLE. You went from saying a handful of words to now being able to converse with us. You are TALKING! When the heck did that happen? And my God are you ever cute when you do it. Can there be more beautiful words than “Mami”, “Dadi”, “I-wa-ou” (I Love You), and “Kalinihta”? You shush me and then whisper “akou” and make me listen to your heartbeat. You have a variety of teddybears that you’ve named (Manon the monkey, Dino the Dino, Bear, Sheep and MANAAAAANO (MEGAAAAALO)). I want to write all these words down to remember forever. Your father and I have attempted to videotape as much as possible to keep these memories all our lives. Dimitri, you are a miracle.
You are forever learning, reading your books alone now and pretending to read the words. You dance around, rake leaves with us, take walks with us, colour (with your favourite colour “BWWWOWN”), run, play peek-a-boo and feed us. Dimitri, I wish I could take these moments and store them in a box, open that box up whenever I am away from you and re-live them over & over. There is nothing more miraculous than you, my angel.
Happy 18 months my dear son. I can only hope that you will always live such a happy, beautiful life. Carefree and giddy.
I love you.

And here we go yet again. Another new crossroad in our life! In October 2011, a little after Dimitri’s first birthday, George and I decided it was time to close the chapter on condo living. Dimitri is growing rapidly and we’re getting that feeling inside us that it’s time for another little angel to come into our lives. And while our 4 years in the condo have been nothing short of beautiful, we knew that our dream for our children included a backyard, a basement, and mainly a home where they could do whatever they want, whenever they want, without having to think of our co-owners.

I never could have imagined how quickly things would happen. We listed at the end of October and now, at the end of February we are out of our condo and into our home!

Where can I begin? I vividly remember every moment of our condo purchase. I remember finding the listing, the first time we visited the neighbourhood with George, our first visit, second visit, cleaning that home and then finally our first night moving in. Our four years have been true bliss. Filled with love, yummy dinner making, movie nights, Christmases, family gatherings and memory-making. We lived through new love, marriage, pregnancy and bringing home our first child in this home. This home OOZES positive energy in so many ways.  Looking around me now, it breaks my heart to know that I am saying goodbye to a place that brought me so much joy. Yet it’s like everything else in our lives – temporary. A new chapter is now beginning. One where we will see Dimitri’s excitement in his new play area, one that will see a second (maybe third? Fourth?) pregnancy and birth, one that will see barbecues in the big backyard, playing in the pool, jumping around on the snow in the crescent, and NEW memory-making.

I am ready to say goodbye and to look one last time around me – lovingly remembering how blessed my life has been. It’s unbelievable to think of how life unravels. Six years ago, I was a completely different human being. I was trying to find myself, trying to understand why I lived through so many failed relationships, why I felt so lonely even when surrounded by people, and what my purpose in life was. I remember that February 2006. I remember telling myself that I alone can bring the abundance in my life I so longed for. And for the first time ever, I felt joy in my days, regardless of its events. I believe this conscious shift is what has brought so much beauty in my current life. This positivity brought me my George, a man who is even sweeter than my sweetest dreams. Don’t get me wrong, we most definitely have our hardships. In our five-year relationship, I have reached points where I have asked myself if we’ll make it. Can we overcome the statistics? Can we overlook each other’s differences and just love unconditionally? We’re working on it every day and it seems like the glue that holds us together is our intention to never be apart. Even in the hardships, we make sure to look for solutions, not ways out. My positivity has also brought me my son. There is no being in this entire universe more perfect than Dimitri and I say that in the most unbiased way possible Again, Dimitri and I have definitely had our ups and downs. There have been dark, dark moments in my life as a mother. Moments where I was crawled up at the corner of my kitchen floor completely inconsolable. Moments where my tears were endless, my trembling was unstoppable and my brain was clouded. Moments where I asked myself how I could get out of my life, my body, my thoughts. I honour those moments, because they have made me grow and learn more about life than the previous 30 years. Dimitri has been my greatest teacher in this world. I will forever be blessed for all that he has taught me – patience, unconditional love, endurance, positivity, true laughter, and forgiveness. I can say I forgive truly all those that have hurt me in my life, especially myself.

And so, as a grown-up now, 32 years young, I am ready to face my new chapter. Let this chapter continue to teach me about life’s mysteries and let my family grow and be HAPPY. Truly, freely, unconditionally happy.

I say goodbye to you – Chapter “Peaceful Bliss” and welcome you – Chapter “Happy Chaos” (Of course chaos, can you imagine if we end up with four kids????)!!!

On January 13, 2012, we lost a very important human being. George Dritsas – my grandfather (my pappouli) left us for good. He has been suffering from Alzheimer’s for several years now, so we all knew the inevitable that was to come. However, no matter how much you prepare for death, it is never easy to face it once right in front of you. I received a call on Friday morning from my mother saying he was in the hospital with double pneumonia, but not to rush just yet until they had more news. An hour later, she called me back to say he was in critical condition and we should all go as soon as possible. I rushed to make it, we all did. However, he was already dead. No one was there. No one got to hold his hand and tell him they loved him in that final moment. No one got to send him off to that unknown place we will all end up at. No one had the chance to be strong for him, to remind him of all he was to us, to give him the love he so much deserved. Pappou was always a little afraid of death. From a very young age, I remember him hugging me goodbye every time I left his home and hearing him say: “if I don’t see you again, remember I love you.” He would tear up every time we left the house. He had such a strong urge to LIVE.

Maybe in a way it’s best he had this disease. I am sure it took away that fear he once had. I can only hope that he was at peace in his final moments and I hope that he knew how much we all loved him. I have such deep regrets at times, for the way we all acted towards the end. My poor grandmother did her best, but she sent him to a home about two years ago. She simply couldn’t handle the physical and emotional demands of my sick pappou. She wanted to be there for him, she just didn’t know how to do it on her own. From that point forward, we all detached. It was hard to visit him at the home, a place where there was so much sickness and oddness. We would all make up excuses and go less and less. We distanced ourselves from the man who was the head of the family, the Dritsas foundation. I always told myself that he seemed so happy & free there. No one constantly nagging him about what to eat, where to go, etc… However, the reality is that he was not loved there by those who took care of him. And how can we live without love? He started deteriorating quickly, forgetting faster and no longer being able to do basic things, like eat, walk, talk…

And now he’s gone. It seems unreal that he is no longer here. I console myself by thinking that now he remembers again and he can see how his life impacted so many of us. He was a good man and he lived an honest life. I will love him and remember him fondly. May you finally rest Pappouli mou and may you watch over us. Continue singing to us and we will make sure to keep your legend alive, telling our children your stories ofthe army, your love for Yiayia and your dancing abilities. You are forever imprinted in my heart.

I love you.

Your granddaughter, Jackie