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