Every Time We Say Goodbye
Every time we say goodbye
I die a little
Every time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little-Cole Porter
Dear Friends and Family,
Tonight, I’m making a farewell dinner and attempting to use as many vegetables from our garden as possible. Roasted red peppers stuffed with feta as appetizers and a salad with glistrida or purslane, beets and nuts cracked open earlier this summer. Some pasta with eggplant, baby tomatoes, onions and basil and for dessert, a zucchini lemon loaf.
For good measure, some jujubes for munching. Not the tiny gelled cylindrical candies I ate as a kid but fruits that look like small dates and taste like apples. In Iraq, there is an ancient jujube tree that locals claim is the biblical "Tree of Knowledge." Here they are called ziziphus. Despite the high temperatures of July and August, the land has been very good to us. We look forward to sharing its bounty.
Yesterday, Paul and I walked along the rocky beach picking up sea glass and shells. We found just the right stones to skip. We floated for a while among the fish, urchins, mussels and rays noticing how a recent big storm cooled the water. The sea has held us, its waves rocking us to sleep.
And, lately I’ve been greeted at the market, bakery, butcher, vegetable store, coffee shop and restaurants with more smiles, more recognition and more kalimeras. After twelve years of visiting, Vonitsa now accepts me.
It is always difficult to leave this place of beauty and quietude; where I watch the sun rise and view shooting stars from the balcony at night. Never more than this year.
When we got to Greece, I had no idea of the extent of my stress and exhaustion. Being here has helped me regain strength and now I want to see my family, teach, catch up with friends and walk New York City’s streets. With the seasonal tide, I’m pulled back home.
There is a term in Greek…kerasma. It means treat. As in you treat someone for coffee or a restaurant gives you a sweet after a meal. A way that Greeks demonstrate affection, it is bad form to reject this offering. It is a show of hospitality; generosity and it's deeply embedded in the Greek psyche.
No reciprocity is expected, but it feels good to extend kerasma to someone else. Sending a drink to a table or giving a small piece of jewelry as a sign of friendship. This time of year we frequently bring a freshly baked tart or bowls of figs with us when we visit someone.
As we get ready to leave this “land of plenty” I realize extending kerasma to other humans is not enough. I must make it a practice to proffer devotion and endearment to the earth, oceans and heavens. These elements so front and center in Vonitsa have, without asking for anything in return, healed me from anxiety brought on by a perpetuated global health crisis combined with worldwide political unrest.
It is time I show them more gratitude and make small daily gestures by consuming less and recycling more. I’m calling it my Karmic Kerasma, a commitment to do what I can to treat the planet with more respect.
With lots of love,
Brette