Goodbye Pappou

My Cypriot grandfather died


my Pappou

17 years and 1 day


My Cypriot grandmother

my Yiayia

They both went quickly

In the ambulance

The funeral is tomorrow

It’s 45 Degrees in Cyprus now

He was 92

It still hurts even if you expect it

That strange realisation you will never talk to them again

I remember her funeral

I remember my numbness

I thought of my sister

The only person I am willing to talk to



I know he would have wanted us to talk

I can’t remember the last time I had heard her voice

It was exactly the same and totally different

She told me the nitty gritty

He had tried to call me recently

I had my phone off because I didn’t want to be contacted

I thought of him recently

I avoided

It was sudden

Nobody said goodbye

The last conversation was pleasant

I appreciated a lot about him

even though my bond was not strong

I will miss him but I am glad he went quickly

I don’t want to remember the distance

I want to remember

his undying love for food

his a cappella singing

his anecdotes about hilariously named distant family members

his stories of Famagusta

his love of Famagusta

his and my Yiayia’s elopement

his love for my Yiayia

his cooking

his sensitivity and his aloofness

his ability to be positive and happy

despite surviving

one world war

one war of independence

two civil wars

one invasion

being made a refugee in his 50s

and losing the love of his life 17 years before his ended

Goodbye Pappou

Thank you for the love

Να πάεις στο καλό Παππού

Εύχαριστώ για την αγάπη