By Doris Falidis Nickolas*
Derived from his Pontian ancestors, a loving grandfather’s devotion to his first-born grandchild’s despair, ignited the strength and courage within, carrying him through the biggest challenge of his life.
My father has a saying… “My child’s child, is twice my child.”
It is believed there to be a considerable contrast between the love of a parent for their child and the incomparable love for a grandchild. I have often heard my father express, and I am assured many of you would have heard from your own – there is nothing more important than seeing your children healthy and happy, even more so, seeing your grandchildren blooming.
So, what happens when life changing news hurls you into a whirlwind of turmoil, as it did for my family two years ago? This is a short story of love and resilience – an insight to how my then 79-year-old father regained the ability to keep my family and I afloat, whilst immersed in the roughest of waters.
Youthful and spirited, 24-year-old Eleftherios Falidis left his hometown of Elassona, Greece and migrated to Australia arriving in Adelaide, April 1965. He adored his parents and in his own modest way displayed great love and affection towards them. Leaving his parents and loved ones behind proved to be a most difficult decision to make. Having said this though the choice was my father’s, however one made soundly.
For most migrants back in the early 1960’s, upon arriving at their new homeland Australia, creating a family life was often the path taken. Working strenuously, building their own castles, and eventually with the addition of children, their families complete.
Newlywed and happy, my father solidly worked and saved. In suitable time he bought a small house in an idyllic inner southern-city suburb in Adelaide and along with my mother, transformed it into a bright, loving, and warm home – a place where thousands of beautiful memories were, and to this day, are still made. Over the last 32 years, nine adoring grandchildren have captivated my parent’s heart with so much love and joy.
My family have been blessed by God with a wonderful life. We never took anything for granted. My father installed resilience in us children and especially to his grandchildren. “When life is no good, you no give up… you keep going.”
“If all strong here,” he says, pointing his finger to the top of his head, (meaning the mind) “everything is good!”
I followed the advice from my wise father and so too, I installed the same values into my four children whilst they were growing up. However, little did I know that the resilience and positive attributes my father had gifted me, were about to be tried like never before.
Life became blurred for my family when in October 2020, at the youthful age of thirty, our beautiful boy Angelo was diagnosed with bowel and liver cancer. The news left us numb and in utter shock. As a tight family unit, we were all confronted with uncertain times ahead, apprehensive of what was in store for our darling boy and his beautiful fiancé, Stacey.
My father held me tight as I cried. “You must stay strong,” he affirmed, “All of us … we must stay strong, for Angelo and for Stacey” he tearfully expressed looking at my distraught mother – we were not going to crumble, not now. Suddenly overnight, the aches and pains that were consuming my father over the last few years had become dormant. The Pontian warrior illuminated! His life now, had purpose.
Our lives were about to become one big rollercoaster ride. In early November, Angelo prepared for major bowel surgery and was admitted into hospital soon after.
The night after Angelo’s successful surgery, together with Dad, we visited our beautiful boy in hospital. We entered the room and there was Angelo, sitting up in bed looking downhearted. Seeing him the way he was made my heart sink.
With a melancholy look on his face, Dad tenderly held me in his arms, comforting me. Sensing Angelo’s pain, our insides were in knots. Dad reached out and placed Angelo’s hand in his, “You be better and home very soon Angelo. No worry, pappou is here, ola tha pane kala paidi mou, you see…”
With tender care, Dad helped Angelo move his body around and help rest his legs over the edge of the bed. As I watched my beautiful boy reach for the walker by his bedside, I could not contain my distress any longer – I left the room and broke down.
In January 2021, the gruesome journey of chemotherapy treatments began, and my family pulled in tighter than ever.
My father was one who by no means enjoyed daily walk’s. I often expressed to him accompanying mum on her daily walks would be beneficial for his wellbeing. “I cannot walk long distances,” he contested, “my legs hurt too much.” After attempts encouraging my father to change his mind, I gave up.
Though all changed when dad started caring for Angelo during post chemotherapy treatment. Pappou Lefteri (as Angelo called him) was now the one urging his grandson to exercise. So began the leisurely walks to and from Angelo’s house to the local coffee store every fortnight, Thursday, and Friday’s. They loved their coffees and cherished the conversations that went hand in hand. Once home, Dad had Angelo practicing light exercises. Strangely enough, my father’s sore legs ceased to exist!
When in the company of his grandson, my father’s façade was of a robust frame. It was as if my father metamorphosed into the young army cadet he once was in Greece, in 1961. Being the patriarch of the family, he took a substantial weight of the family’s strain and carried it himself.
The following months for Angelo were interwoven with doctors’ appointments, chemotherapy treatments and some hospital stays. Angelo, the true fighter that he was, kept on working and enjoying life. No matter how much he was suffering, he never let on.
God graced the day October 23rd, 2021, when Angelo married the love of his life, his gorgeous Stacey. It truly was the most magical day! It was as if we were in a fairy tale story. My father was overflowing with pride!
Soon after, the chemotherapy treatments recommenced, during Angelo’s after care at home, Dad would be at the front door, nice and early, ready for the day ahead. He massaged Angelo’s sore back and legs, prepared food, and then when Angelo slept, he would either clean the house or be out in the garden tidying up.
Anything to ease the load off his beautiful new granddaughter Stacey, for when she returned home from work.
The love and devotion poured from my father’s heart space, not only eased Angelo’s pain, but comforted us all.
My father’s strength and positive attitude made our days that little bit brighter. He brought happiness, wisdom, and affection to Angelo’s last months of life. And all the while, the heaviest, largest black cloud hung over him. With a heavy heart I write, our beautiful Angelo fell asleep in the loving arms of our Lord, Jesus Christ, on Saturday 4 June 2022.
Not a day goes by, rain, wind, or shine, without pappou Lefteri visiting his adoring boy. With a coffee in hand, he continues the cherished conversations they once shared here on earth.
“Hello Vangeli, paidi mou, pappou is here …”
* Doris Falidis Nickolas is the author of Life Has Two Doors.
