They had cried together. Arianna had vowed to her mother that she would try.
Tadeus, Christine, and Faith, our little family . . .
She thought how her gratitude to their children knew no bounds. They had stepped up to meet this crisis in ways she would never have predicted. The two grandchildren, Nicholas and Isabella, had provided a beautiful, unconditional love since the day each was born and during recent times had often been a much-needed distraction.
Faith remained home for those last agonizing months, loving her father and helping Arianna in every way possible, until the madness was over and the sadness was left to consume them.
Faith was a classic example of the benefits of never giving up on your kids.
She had been a challenging teenager, pushing limits and causing her parents many sleepless nights. Her first tattoo had been a contentious issue.
There was a flirtation with drugs and independence, especially after she lost her grandfather, her beloved pappouli. She had struggled with grief. That had been another reason Arianna had not returned to her previous job at the Art Gallery. She felt that the flexibility of her presence at home, as well as in the restaurant, was important.
On the positive side, Faith had stayed committed to her education through it all, but in as unorthodox a way as she could. She took many semesters in exotic parts of the world: Africa, India, Nicaragua, Guatemala, Nunavut.
Faith studied diligently, and Arianna held close in her heart the pride she and Ben shared as they attended each graduation. With a master’s degree in education and a doctorate in social work, Faith applied her skills from her heart as well as her head. She chose to live without personal comfort in order to help those she saw in need.
And then, when the chips were down, Faith had quietly assumed control when she returned home.
Watching her during Ben’s illness, Arianna had a glimpse, for the first time, of how Faith had taken on the cultural and societal challenges of her troubled young students in Nunavut, Canada’s northernmost territory. She saw her daughter’s combination of strength, intelligence, and sensitivity and felt enormously proud of her. It was apparent Faith had developed a strong ability to hone in on what was critical. She was a straight shooter.
It was a shock when Faith told her mom she had recently established contact with second cousins in Greece. Not surprisingly, Facebook had brought them together. The Greek relatives had made the first overtures, messaging Faith. She was happy to be reconnected with her roots. Her generation carried no animosity for their elders’ supposed past wrongs.
More lessons learned from the prodigal daughter.
Arianna was pleased about reconnecting with the Greek family and, surprisingly, so was Sophia. “All those years we were mad at each other. Think about what we missed. Why did I have to get old to get smart about this?” Sophia said to her daughter and granddaughter.
Faith and Tad, along with his wife, Christine, and the long list of caregivers provided by the health-care system, had offered the loving and physical support Arianna needed to keep Ben at home until it had become impossible. She would be grateful to them forever for that.
Tad and his wife were both accountants. Their knowledge and assistance had been crucial in developing a financial plan that would offer Arianna ongoing security. Arianna and Ben had been diligent about contributing to savings for their senior years. However, they had never paid much attention to the possibility that the restaurant would not continue to be a source of income.
In the beginning, Arianna and Ben had talked about the reality of selling the restaurant. At the time of his initial diagnosis, Ben was still able to understand what they were facing together. Arianna was insistent that Ben continue to run what had been his lifelong passion until he could not cope. When he reached that point, he was unaware of it, and close friends within the business stepped in to help manage things and take care of the sale of Papa’s to Demetrios.
Good friends had been kind and helpful, but eventually it was too difficult and painful for them to be in Ben’s presence. Finding the right words became a challenge. It was easier for people not to come. Notes, cards, flowers, and meals were dropped off, and the family appreciated all of them. Ben, by then, was oblivious to the offerings.
Arianna understood the challenge of friends visiting as Ben’s condition progressed. It was embarrassing, awkward, shocking, even, to see Ben’s behavior . . . for her and for the visitor. She fought with her conscience over the feelings of shame and anger that more frequently overtook love and sadness.
Gloria was the only person whose presence with Ben offered Arianna solace. Her best friend was able to move beyond whatever his behavior was that day and somehow give Arianna the right kind of support and understanding. They cried together after each of her visits, and that helped too.
At times, wine also helped. For everyone but Ben, of course.
Ben’s diagnosis had been slow in coming. His effervescent personality had camouflaged many of the early symptoms. Now he lay in a vegetative state in a nursing home, where it was predicted he would remain for an indeterminate time. Palliative care was still to come. It was a ponderous torture for the family.
CHAPTER FIVE
Arianna put away her pencil case and journal, which had slipped to the floor. She closed her eyes and allowed the memories to carry her back to the early years.
An only child, Arianna had a loving relationship with both her parents. Sophia was a woman of few words but deep understanding. Arianna had known that for as long as she could remember. Their bond was quiet and strong.
And Nikos adored Arianna, with her long black hair, big brown eyes framed by lush eyelashes, and quiet ways. She was his poulaki, his little bird.
Indeed, it was because of their preteen daughter that they tearfully bade good-bye to their extended family on the tiny Greek island of Lesvos in 1967 and moved to Toronto. A military junta had seized power in Athens, and hard times were predicted. They wished a better life for Arianna.
The Papadopoulos family had owned a popular seaside restaurant on Lesvos dating back to the early 1800s. What began as a place where the catch of the day was casually grilled and sold to locals on the beach slowly evolved into a sprawling, unpretentious patio restaurant overhanging the glistening sea in a protected cove. Sun-kissed waves in shades of turquoise and blue washed over golden-sand beaches. Children ran and played with carefree abandon, and parents never worried. Ancient ruins were neighborhood playgrounds.
The community, and then eventually also tourists, gravitated to the friendly atmosphere provided by lively conversation, laughter, and tempting fresh delicacies. Something as simple as a salad and grilled sardines could evolve into a feast lasting for hours, as heaping plates of everything from fish to olives to fruit appeared on the table. Dripping jugs of sangria and local wines were emptied with ease. Eating was not limited to specific mealtimes but rather was an ongoing celebration of any part of the day.
The delicious fish recipes created by Nikos’s family, going back to his great-great-grandmother, were legendary throughout the islands. These treasured gems of family history came across the sea in a carefully wrapped binder.
At that time in Toronto, there was already a strong cultural vibe in the stretch along Danforth Avenue known as Greektown, from Greenwood Avenue to Broadview. The area blossomed with food, music, and culture. Word spread throughout the city’s expanding suburbs.
Some of the two-story brick buildings originated from the 1910s and 1920s, adding to the character of the area. It was on the ground floor of one of these older structures that Papa’s on the Danforth opened its doors. Soon devoted customers were returning and bringing friends to savor the delights of Nikos’s kitchen. Sophia took charge of the cash register and bill payments. And the family settled into the rambling, slightly rundown apartment above it.
Through the years, more Greek immigrants had moved in and gravitated to living on the Danforth. By the 1970s, Greektown held one of
the largest Greek populations in North America.
There was a sense of being transported to Greece while walking through the close-knit neighborhood. Fresh markets, bakeries, restaurants, and patios infused with authentic food, noise, and smells brought that sense to life.
Shopkeepers called out to one another in Greek, keeping their colorful language alive. The daily arrivals of deliverymen were events on their own, greeted with noisy enthusiasm. Regulars were treated like family members.
Neighborhood dogs trotted up and down the streets, knowing which doors to check for a waiting treat. Spunky cats marked their territories, helping keep down the rodent population. Chickens squawked through the slats of their wooden crates. Rabbits wrapped in newspaper peered out at children who begged to take them home as pets, not for dinner.
Black-clad elderly women, heads covered in black lace or drab kerchiefs and shopping baskets on their arms, took their time inspecting the stands of fresh produce. At the seafood and butcher shops, every purchase was debated and negotiated. It was expected and respected. Shopping was an art, a business, a social event, and an important part of daily life.
One could sense a community built on tradition. There was unity and an underlying passion for thriving businesses. And noise! Laughter, loud voices, singing, debating . . . the life of Greek villages was being lived on these streets, in this community, halfway around the world from their country of origin.
The Mediterranean cuisine proved in demand with diners from every ethnic group in Toronto’s multicultural population. A loud chorus of “Opa!” could be heard late into the night at various celebrations, accompanied by the traditional smashing of plates and bouzouki rebetika music.
All that was missing was the sea.
Some establishments only served dinner, but what made the immigrants feel most at home were the small patios, often attached to bakeries. They were the perfect place to have a dark, strong cup of coffee or a glass or two of ouzo and watch the passing parade on a warm, sunny afternoon or summer evening.
Nikos was overjoyed when he received permission from the city to create an outside patio. He would take cigarette breaks out there, mingling with his customers as he entertained them with stories, accompanied by his outgoing personality and boisterous laugh. Breaking into song from time to time became an expectation, as he harmonized with his favorite Nana Mouskouri tapes.
In 1972, while still in high school, Ben took a part-time job in the Papadopouloses’ family restaurant. In fact, he always said he fell in love with her father, Nikos, before he fell in love with Arianna. No one denied that. And the feeling was mutual.
Although he washed dishes at first, Ben’s interest in cooking soon became apparent, and slowly Nikos took him under his wing in the kitchen. Arianna worked as a waitress, and Nikos made it clear to Ben that his daughter was not to be flirted with.
When Nikos saw how Ben was suited for the restaurant business, he was delighted to encourage him to assist and learn in his chapel, the kitchen. In time, he even treated Ben as a son.
Slowly Ben and Arianna got to know each other.
Arianna was shy, studious, and obsessed with art, consumed with drawing and painting. A sketch pad was her constant companion. During all her spare time she took courses at the Ontario College of Art or simply spent hours lost in the exhibits in local galleries.
Her bedroom walls were covered with van Gogh posters. When an exhibit of his work came to the Art Gallery of Ontario, she saved her money and went three times.
Nikos did not understand his daughter’s fascination. He proudly displayed her art throughout the house and even, to Arianna’s embarrassment, in the restaurant. But he clearly saw it as her hobby and often worried aloud that she was simply a dreamer.
“What’s she gonna do with that?” he would ask Sophia, exasperated. She would reassure him that their daughter had a special talent and clear ideas about how she would use it.
“She knows what she wants to do, Nikos. Don’t worry, she has plans, and she will be doing work she loves. That’s what we hope for, isn’t it?”
Nikos would wring his hands and worry, but he loved his wife and trusted her opinion.
Meanwhile, Ben had a girlfriend, Gloria, throughout high school, and Nikos went out of his way to invite her to hang around the restaurant. He was delighted when she and Arianna became friends, unaware that Gloria told Arianna regularly how she was sure Ben favored her.
While Arianna was waitressing during the summer after high school graduation, Ben amicably broke up with Gloria.
The girls met for lunch shortly thereafter.
“I’ve been telling you this for years,” Gloria said to Arianna, without an ounce of regret, as they shared a chocolate sundae.
As Arianna began to protest, her friend raised her hand to stop her. “Uh-uh, nope! That’s not going to fly this time. You have to believe me. Our breakup has been coming for a long time. We’re just friends. You are the one Ben loves. Now give him a chance, because I think you love him too.”
The friends shared a look: the kind of look that comes naturally to women who truly care about each other. There was a tenderness, a knowing, and a “don’t mess with me” aspect to it, and girlfriends got it.
Then Ben chose to go to the Chef School at George Brown College to hone his craft. He would work at the restaurant every evening and weekend. It was a marriage made in heaven.
While Ben was attending college, Arianna studied for a fine arts degree at the University of Toronto.
When it was time for Ben to have a three-month placement abroad, Nikos arranged for him to go to an old friend’s restaurant in Athens. Afterward, Ben spent a few weeks at the family restaurant on Lesvos and returned more Greek than most of their customers. He loved the culture and never doubted what he would do with his life.
Nikos was excited about the new ideas Ben brought into the kitchen. The restaurant continued to be known as a thriving purveyor of Greek street food: gyros, souvlaki, spanakopita, and traditional family recipes such as béchamel-smothered moussaka. But now there were new seafood dishes and ever-changing mezedes, the popular appetizers served with ouzo.
The secret recipe Sophia used for their baklava was renowned throughout the city. In spite of premade phyllo pastry becoming readily available, she always insisted on making her own.
Two years later, Ben asked Nikos for Arianna’s hand in marriage. Nikos and Sophia gave their blessing joyfully.
Arianna went off to Paris to study art for three months to earn a credit that enhanced her degree. She loved the City of Light and immersed herself in its history and art. Strolling the narrow cobblestone streets of the older quarters was a thrill she had not imagined. Even so, she couldn’t wait to get back to her Ben.
In June 1978, a big Greek wedding took place. Arianna and Ben were twenty-three years old, deeply in love, and excited about the future. Nikos and Sophia glowed with pride and happiness.
Though Arianna had let her attendance lapse once she’d begun university, Nikos and Sophia still faithfully worshipped in their neighborhood Greek Orthodox church every Sunday. Arianna and Ben met with the local priest, and the wedding was arranged for June 9, 1978. Odd numbers were lucky, Nikos reminded them.
As much as it was not in keeping with Arianna’s style, she had agreed with everything her father wished for the wedding. Though she was thankful that he did not insist on many of the old-fashioned rituals, like regularly spitting three times to ward off the evil eye. Always loving and supportive, Sophia helped keep Nikos’s excitement under control.
After Nikos blubbered through the traditional ceremony with candles, golden crowns attached by ribbons, and three shared sips from the common cup, the party moved to the church hall.
No expense had been spared, and the hall had been decorated with splendid flowers and linens. Nikos oversaw every detail of the menu and catering. After five courses of the finest Greek specialties, the party began.
A popular Greek band played a
s everyone danced the Tsamiko, the Zeibekiko, and the joyful Kalamatianos. The evening was exuberant, loud, and filled with laughter.
After much pleading from the couple, Nikos agreed to forgo the plate smashing but only once Arianna and Ben consented to participate in the money dance at the end of the night. After the couple began dancing, holding a handkerchief between them, every guest took turns dancing with them and pinned money to their clothing.
Their honeymoon was in Greece.
Growing up, Arianna had realized that Nikos felt sad that his family name would not live on through another generation. After her marriage, her father beamed when Arianna told him she would keep her maiden name along with Miller. Papadopoulos-Miller was a surname she carried proudly, in spite of the time it took to write it.
As the years went by, their family expanded with the births of a daughter, Faith, and a son, Tadeus. The family took turns taking summer trips to Greece, Nikos and Sophia one year, and then Arianna and her family the next. One very special summer, they closed the restaurant for two weeks and all went together for an unforgettable family holiday.
This continued until the summer Nikos and Sophia were in a tragic car accident. As they drove the steep, narrow roads of Mount Lepetymnos to their favorite viewpoint, where Nikos had proposed to Sophia so long ago, he suffered a fatal heart attack. The car went off the road, its descent halted by trees on the heavily forested slope. Sophia received minor cuts and bruises and a broken heart that never healed completely.
Sadly, the emotional aftermath of the accident also caused a rift in the extended family that grew into a chasm. Relatives in Greece thought Nikos’s ashes should be returned to Lesvos. Sophia could not bear the thought of setting foot again on the island that had claimed her husband’s life. Passion overtook understanding. Unkind words were exchanged, and bitter feelings grew.
Drawing Lessons Page 4
