Paul instructed Timothy, “Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for your stomach’s sake and your frequent infirmities” (1 Timothy 5:23). My father was a wine lover. I have already told you about the barrels of wine in the cellar of the stone house in Arcadia. Incidentally, Hippocrates once said that the preserved…
Conversations with the Cemetery Caretaker
I never noticed the cemetery workers until my father died. Not the “office” people, in charge of opening graves, now nouveau riche and bendable and previously quiet set in their ways to make sure the Orthodox and Catholic dead were kept separate with the Jews, not to contaminate the soil where their beloved lie. At…
Conversations at Costa’s
Costa has a fish taverna on the beach at Astros. The restaurant is in a small square non descript building that faces the road that runs parallel to the beach. As you walk from my father’s apartments it is the last and best restaurant of six eateries. There is one other fish tavern, two restaurants…
Conversations about Hospital Beds
My father was hospitalised 3 times. Once for a coronary bypass, then for a haemothorax (blood on the lung) after the bypass, and lastly to have ventricular defibrillator inserted. Each time he would want a private room. I suppose like all of us he liked his privacy. Like all of us it was easier to…
Conversations with Uncle Piet
Uncle Piet was my father’s first cousin. Their fathers were brothers. But my father held Uncle Piet as an older brother, a village sage to cut through the smoke and mirrors of the modern world and to keep him from losing direction. Uncle Piet was 20 years older than my father. He arrived in South…
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