Yiayia's Journey Part 2

In 1931, my 21 year old Yiayia continued to toil in the olive orchards alongside her beloved mother on the island of Kythera in Greece. And while her heart ached for the death of her father, the course of this peasant girl's life would take a dramatic turn. On a summer day, she rode her donkey 'Keecho' side saddle to the platia (village square). And she couldn't help but laugh when.. bullseye! A fly had landed right in a man's cup of coffee. The 38-year-old Kytherian man had just returned from pursuing business opportunities in America (like so many other Greeks). The tall, former soldier rarely cracked a smile after his time fighting Axis forces in World War I. And yet as he cursed and flicked out that bug, he couldn't help but notice Yiayia's infectious laughter and her beautiful spirit. His name ~ John Alex Conomos. 

A beautiful portrait turned painting of Yiayia taken later in life. I love the vibrancy of the colors.

Papou fought in WWI for the Greek army on the shore of Bulgaria. He was shot by enemy forces and later contracted Cholera. 

My Giagia's beloved mother. Affectionately and respectfully referred to as "the indomitable" Damiani in this granddaughter's blog. She was an incredibly strong woman who became revered in their village during WWII occupation in Greece.

Back in those days, arranged marriages were the norm in Greece. And a very intrigued John Conomos wished to make such an arrangement. So he respectfully approached Yiayia's mother (the indomitable Damiani) with said offer. But an ever progressive and exceedingly feisty Yiayia was -not- impressed. She told her beloved mother, "I am NOT a piece of meat!" But tearfully~and with great love~her mother shared her greatest fear: that with the family so poor and her father dead, who would take care of Yiayia when she died? That heartfelt sentiment resonated with Yiayia, so discussions began - much to the dismay of my grandfather's cruel mother and sister.

My Papou with his father.

My Papou's father and sister, Marouli.

                                                  Yaiyai's sister-in-law, Marouli.
                                           

Disgusted that Yiayia's impoverished mother could not provide a big dowry, they demanded he not marry her. But my "Papou" (Greek for grandpa) would not be swayed. So later that year, Penelope and John Conomos were married in a beautiful, small church in Yiayia's native village of Agia Anastasia. Years later in 2005, I would visit that very platia and that beautiful church with my future husband and my family. We lit candles, said prayers, and imagined that incredible day so very long ago. Though it was initially arranged, my grandparents' marriage would become one of great devotion, endless sacrifice, and eternal love. But great sadness would also follow.