Yia Yia’s Funeral

My grandmother on my mother’s side was a quiet, austere, shy person. She owned three dresses 3 dresses (brown and gray) one church suit (gray) and a winter overcoat (camel, which she thought was “flashy”). She always wore an apron inside her home. She came from Greece at 18 with an eighth-grade education. She had no vanity. Her English was poor, and she never learned to drive a car so she needed assistance with things like utilities, shopping etc. She kept her home spartan clean and was a tremendous cook. A “light lunch at Yia Yia’s” as we used to like to call it was comprised of roasted lamb, roasted potatoes, green beans, Greek salad, bread, cheese, olives, butter macaroni, spanakopita and moussaka. And ice cream for dessert. Theses lunches usually happened in the heat of summer when we were all out of school.

Yia Yia died in 1996. In the days before when it became apparent that she was fading all of us took turns holding vigil, but my Uncle Soc was the person who organized nurses, meals, etc. and was there the most. Mid-day Jun 15 my mother, uncle and I were all at the apartment. My mother was exhausted and left to rest for a few hours. Uncle Soc said he was going out of chocolate chip cookies and never came back. He was afraid.

I ended up being the one to stay the night with her. Around 1 a.m. she called me over to her bed and started stroking my wrist. She didn’t speak. “Yia Yia can I get you anything”, “do you need anything”. She barely shook her head and said “ohi”.

She passed away around 2:30. I listened to her fading, rattling breath, and smiled when it stopped. We sat together after she stopped breathing for a few minutes, and then I called my mother. That moment was one of the most beautiful in my life.

The funeral was scheduled mid-day a few days later. Soc had disappeared for a few days but turned up on time. The church was maybe ¼ full, as she had stopped attending years ago. Most were there for my mother and uncle.

An unknown priest came forward on the alter to perform the ceremony. The regular priest was on vacation, and they got a ringer. This guy looked like he could have been dealing meth 5 years ago and just got out of jail. His vestments were way too big, and he really needed a haircut and a shave. His Greek was lousy so after a lame attempt the rest of the service was in English. Needless to say, he knew nothing about my grandmother and was going to wing it from a canned bible story.

I was packed into the pew next to my Uncle Soc, who was a very large man. 6’2” and around 350 lbs. We were stuck together from our arms to our knees.

The priest intoned “we mourn the loss of a good woman. A pious and generous woman”. I felt the first rumble from Soc. “Acrevoula was devoted to her church, her family, and greeted every day with the joy of God”. Two deeper rumbles, more like a vertical earthquake, vibrated down my arm and leg that was stuck to Soc’s. “I am called to remember the story of the humble village woman DORCAS” (he bellowed this name). DORCAS was a saintly woman who provided for the whole village and never asked to acknowledgment or thanks” “DORCAS was the ideal vision of womanhood”.

From my right I hear a loud “HHRRRMMP’ – which sounded like it started in Soc’s belly and came out through his nose. His body lifted off the seat a half inch and came down hard. That was it for me. It started as a giggle in my stomach and slowly rose so tensely through my chest that it hurt until it culminated at a terrific battle at my mouth to keep it in. I teared up. “Please no more” I thought.

“Acrevoula was DORCAS, DORCAS was Acrevoula”. (No one called her Acrevoula, just Voula).  “HHRRRMMMP” this time open lipped came from my uncle. Now my entire lower face was vibrating, and it took all my energy to keep my lips sealed tight. “DORCAS so big of heart, so believing, did not gossip, did not get envious, did not covet, did not lash out in anger”.

That did it. We were done. Soc let out a trumpeting belly-deep “HA” and collapsed his face into his hands and shook. It went viral from him to me, and I was doubled over laughing. My mother shot me one of her VIP glares hat she reserved for very special occasions below the brim of her black hat, so I got up to leave the pew. My brothers were all smirking too but had the good fortune of being a few seats away from Soc.

When it was all over, we went to the house to eat. A lot.