Things my grandfather taught me

Hey friends, So obviously posting consistently has been a bit hard- my apologies. I think the heavy political climate coupled with a ramped up work and school schedule kind of wore me down. Add to that a belly sleeper who can no longer sleep on her ginormous belly and you get...well not a reliable blogger, that's for sure. 

Oh, and my grandfather died a few weeks ago. So there's that. 

It's always sad when you lose someone you love. Even someone who hasn't been well for a long time. In my training I've witnessed a lot of suffering (more on that here,) and it really changed my outlook on death. There are times that a good death, a passing with peace and dignity, can be better than even a few days or weeks trudging onward. 

Still, I never thought I'd miss my grandfather's funeral. Nor did I think he'd ever be alone in a hospital room, no visitors allowed due to Covid-19 restrictions. I never thought I'd be coaching my parents through donning and doffing PPE to safely say goodbye. I never thought I wouldn't get a proper chance to say goodbye, for that matter.

 hanging out at our favorite place in Florida

But there you have it. I've adopted an 'it is what it is' mentality to soften the blow, but it does suck all the same. I take some small solace in knowing that at thirty-something weeks pregnant, there's probably little chance I'd be able to get home to say goodbye anyways, in the counterfactual world where the pandemic doesn't exist. 

Nevertheless, I didn't write this post to score internet pity points. Because my grandfather had many years of declining health, I didn't really know him as well as I thought I did. As it turns out, the real beauty of these last few weeks has been in the quiet unfolding of little stories and anecdotes I never knew, and great accomplishments I'd never heard about, partly due to his inability to communicate for some time, but also because of his humility. He was not the type to brag. I didn't know he started his career caring for Indigenous People through the Indian Health Services. I learned in my classes at Harvard about his involvement in a men's health study that is still referenced and talked about in academic circles, all these years later. I didn't know that he attended Juilliard before pursuing degrees in medicine, public health and nutrition.

And that's just the professional CV. From our time together I knew how much he loved his wife, his children, his grandkids (all 19 of us), and his faith. And how much he loved dessert and coffee (I'll forever think of him and smile when I see halvah at the local Lebanese shop.) How he cared for his father-in-law for years after my grandmother died, as if he were his own parent. 

Anyways, there's no need for me to re-hash his beautiful life here, so I'll stop. That's what obituaries are for, right? I'll leave you with a few lesson he taught me in the time we shared together. I hope you find them useful, interesting, or at least a brief distraction from this crazy world we're living in. 

Work hard and humbly. As I alluded to above, my grandfather accomplished a lot in his professional life. He conducted the orchestra at Stuyvesant high school before attending Juilliard and going on to obtain 3 health-related degrees and working internationally in nutrition and health. But those just weren't things you'd hear about if you sat down for a talk with him. At least when I knew him, he preferred to talk about his childhood on the Upper West Side, where he was in a gang known as the '103rd street sharks,' and even more keen to tell stories about my grandmother. In a world obsessed with the hustle, winning, and outward displays of success and wealth, I think he sets a great example of a a more beautiful, quiet and better way to live. 

Have faith. My grandfather's faith ran extremely deep. He met my grandmother at a bible study in New York, and when he couldn't remember who his own kids were, he remembered every word and hymn in the Orthodox liturgy. Even after losing his wife too soon to cancer, his sadness had a hope about it because he knew he'd see her again one day. I can't be sure, but I think it also really drove him in his work, as his career focused public health and service, and on using his skills and knowledge to help others. As a Christian in medicine, I've found myself thinking a lot about his ability to balance the use of his skills to help as best as he could and surrendering the final outcome to God. Faith and science aren't always complementary, but when I think of him as a scientist and Christian, how he had faith in God and faith in evidence-based medicine, I realize you can have and practice both in life. 

Find joy in the small things. For such an accomplished guy, the grandfather I knew was also quite a lovely, silly person. I can't tell you how many photographs and home videos we have of him delightedly bouncing a baby in his lap, striking a silly pose, whole-heartedly immersing himself in a classical performance (he conducted many a Youtube video concert in his later years!) or sneaking food from the table to the family dog. He even greeted us on entry with a self-composed 'grand entrance' tune, every time he visited, without fail. I'll never forget what a joy he was to be around :) 

Broaden your horizons. Through his jobs in the Coast Guard, consulting and volunteering with the the Orthodox Christian Mission Center, my grandfather spent a good amount of time traveling the world. When I was five, he took me and two cousins out of the country for the first time. I actually remember hating the trip- a typical American kid, I didn't like the taste of Greek food (I know how insane this sounds now), I missed my parents, and half of us ended up with a stomach bug. It took a few more years, along with some tales and souvenirs he brought back from Japan, Russia, and Kenya, but I eventually came around. I used to describe his home as a museum, full of fascinating tchotchkes from places I couldn't pronounce the name of. I'll forever be thankful I picked up his travel bug gene. 

blurry photo of the two of them together, probably New York

Love never fails. We lost my grandmother way too soon, before I was old enough to remember much about her. But I feel like I knew her all the same, through the stories my grandfather told so sweetly and tenderly, over and over again. He was amused and amazed by everything she did- from calming down an angry mentally ill patient as a young nurse in Manhattan, to trying a cigarette on an airplane once, even the most mundane moments with her were like magic to him. From a young age I remember confiding with the other girls in the family how we all aspired to find a love like they had, to find someone who talked about us the way my grandfather talked about our Yiayia Emmy. If only we were so lucky, we'd say. 

Well that was therapeutic. Hope you found it interesting, or at least a brief diversion; either way thanks for indulging me. Stay safe and well.