Yiayia's Journey Part 1

My Yiayia (that's Greek for grandmother) has never liked people making a fuss over her. But this loving granddaughter simply can't help it. Her life story ~ full of such grace, so many struggles and poignantly teachable moments ~ is truly inspiring. So with a humble heart, here goes: 

Penelope Vernardou was born to a poor but proud peasant family on the southern Greek island of Kythera in the village of Agia Anastasia on March 25th, 1910. See the picture below? She's the grumpy little "koukla" (doll) with the big hat ~ displaying even then the trademark sass for which she's become fondly known. As the photo also illustrates, her father was absent. Back then, tough times left the Greek economy faltering. So like many other Greek men, Yiayia's father left Greece to seek work in Australia, then send money home. He left when Yiayia was only an infant and would ultimately be gone for 15 long years. 

So Yiayia's mother (the indomitable Damiani) was left to raise four children alone. They lived frugally on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean in a stone structure with 2 rooms. In one room, they slept crammed side by side on the floor. Their goats and the family donkey (named 'Keecho') slept in the other room. And they relied on an outside latrine and a well to meet their needs. Yiayia and her siblings would walk three miles along rocky terrain to attend school in a nearby village. 

But by the age of 9, her education came to an abrupt end. Without enough money to afford sturdy shoes - that walk to school proved too painful for her to endure. And Yiayia was needed at home and in the fields to help. So for many years, a barefoot Yiayia would work at her mother's side ~ caring for their livestock and tending to the olive orchards. But she steadfastly endured knowing happier times surely awaited her hard working family. 

When Yiayia turned 15 years old, the moment she'd dreamed of had finally arrived. Her beloved father would at long last make the journey home for the family reunion of a lifetime. Overjoyed - she eagerly awaited that ship carrying him home to Greece after 15 years apart. But only to learn that he had suddenly died onboard -mere hours- before it finally docked in their homeland. It would be the first of many terrible losses for my Yiayia.

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. 

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.

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.

Yiayia's Journey Part 3

After my grandparents wed on our native Greek island of Kythera in 1932, they lived with his parents and sister (pic below). While Yiayia grew to love her new husband, life at home was far from ideal. Disgusted that Yiayia's impoverished, widowed mother could not provide a sizeable dowry, her in-laws were cruel. Her mother-in-law refused to let Yiayia's mother visit their home. And when Yiayia gave birth to a beautiful daughter named Chrysanthy, her mother-in-law shunned her baby too. Yiayia couldn't help but muse over that sad irony ~ as she had graciously named Chyrsanthy after her. But as Yiayia became fond of saying, "such is the life."

So while my Papou toiled in the fields, Yiayia also worked - but with little Chrysanthy strapped to her body. Years later I would visit their ancestral home and peer into the well from which Yiayia drew water (pic below). I imagined her perilously toting her baby, terrified that Chrysanthy would fall in simply because her in-laws refused to take her while Yiayia worked. And yet like so many of her generation, she suffered in gracious silence, never to burden my Papou with the insults and endless rejection she received. 

Perhaps she was sustained by a request her own beloved mother 'Damiani' had made to my Papou. She'd said, "Promise me, John, that you will never take her from the island. That my Penelope will live near me always." Though my Papou had kindheartedly agreed, it would prove to be a promise impossible to keep. Life was about to take an irrevocable turn. And my grandparents would soon set sail for the land of opportunity.

Yiayia's Journey Part 4

Though my Greek grandfather 'Papou' promised to never take Yiayia from the island, it was a vow he couldn't keep. The Greek economy was weak. The Great Depression was destroying his investments in America. So in 1933, he returned to the US post haste to manage them personally. Yiayia and baby Chrysanthy followed in a life changing journey.

I often wonder - what was it like for her to leave behind the security of that tiny Greek village? In the blink of an eye, she who had only ever traveled by her donkey 'Keecho' would now journey by ship. (And poor Yiayia was seasick the entire way.) And when she finally gazed upon that bustling, foreign, and intimidating land of opportunity, how did she feel? 

The level of sacrifice and hardship that immigrants like Yiayia would endure is unfathomable. Yet to envision her name 'Penelope Conomos' written on an Ellis Island document of admittance into the United States is truly humbling. As my Yiayia fondly says - "such is the life" - and thus the human spirit has no choice but to adapt and endure. 

And so upon their happy reunion at the port, my grandparents began to do just that. The peasant girl who had only ever traveled by donkey, then later by ship, would soon board a train toward their ultimate destination - a rented home in New Kensington, Pennsylvania. Though vastly altered, their cycle of life continued. Papou worked in his diner 'The Busy Bee'. Yiayia cared for Chrysanthy, befriended other immigrants at their local Greek Orthodox Church, and struggled to adapt to American culture. 

But ultimately, it would be years before she could speak English or learn to drive a car. Often feeling alone and isolated, Yiayia dreamed of a time she could return to Greece to see her dear mother. But money was scarce and the subsequent World War II made travel impossible. 

So it would be -18- long years before she would set eyes on that beloved face again. Yet a moment of hope soon arrived with the birth of their second daughter. They lovingly christened her 'Damiani' after Yiayia's mother. But it wouldn't be long before tragedy arrived at their door.

Yiayia's Journey Part 5

In 1935, my grandparents began to settle into their new life in the bustling town of New Kensington, Pennsylvania after emigrating from Greece. What a strange new world my grandmother Yiayia discovered - one where people traveled by car, train, and boat and in which her donkey 'Keecho' would have no place. So like other immigrants, Yiayia and Papou struggled to adapt and relied on their faith, religion, and incredible work ethic to survive the Great Depression. Papou toiled at 'The Busy Bee' restaurant. Yiayia maintained home and hearth, struggling to learn English from neighbors as she cared for now toddler Chrysanthy. 

It was a supremely lonely and uncertain time, but she found guidance and solace from other immigrants at their local Greek Orthodox Church. But the biggest comfort of all -- the blessing of another beautiful baby girl. My grandparents joyfully baptized her 'Damiani', naming her after Yiayia's beloved mother. Such an honor perhaps eased the pain of leaving her behind in Kythera. 

But when baby Damiani turned 8 months old, something was terribly wrong. A metabolic or digestive problem made eating and drinking almost impossible. They desperately sought the help of several doctors, even traveling to a more advanced hospital in Pittsburgh. Feeling helpless and afraid, Yiayia struggled to plead with doctors who spoke a language she didn't understand. But ultimately no cure could be found in that day. Baby Damiani would depart on May 8th, 1936, leaving my grandparents devastated. 

Grief-stricken, my Papou would lovingly craft the gravestone himself. And over the years, his future son - my father - would return to that New Kensington cemetery again and again to restore that decaying little gravestone. To this day, my Yiayia still can't talk about Damiani. But she possessively cherishes a fading baptismal certificate -- a testament that a mother's devotion is eternal. As the Greeks always say - may her memory be eternal. And it truly is.