I wrote this on Mother”s Day 2001 when I was newly settled in San Diego. My mother, Mary ( Skudlark) Kosciuczyk loved travel and adventure and I always think of her when I do brave things!
Mykonos; I lived there one summer, and many times I have visited. The island of the windmills, shining seas, furious waves.
So many times I was marooned there because of the weather, secretly pleased. Enjoying the high winds, the high winds, solitude, and the coziness of the islanders as I became an accepted guest. Walks through the pirates’ passages. The old men selling vegetables from their donkeys and the wonderful places to hide and have a coffee. The churches, I believe on this small island there are over 200, each unique, like the people.
Many foreigners among the villagers. It is strange to see a town where old traditions and hedonistic living coexist. The friends I made there at Dolce Vita, Kastro Bar, Anchor Bar, the cafe with the blue chairs.
Flying Dolphins, chariots upon the waves. I once was stopped in one with Force 7 wind and waves. Shut engine, we coasted ’til we passed Cavad’oro. A few hours from Athens, it’s like going to another dimension of time. Peter the Pelican, the Feta, the gay Wedding parade. All night dancing!The beach at Agrari with the flowers, artists, tourists, and lovers.
In August it’s like a parade every day in the winding streets. Hot, packed, buses to Super Paradise. Secluded, you can also take a boat there. The ferries are herding people, cars, buses, and I had put my cakes and bagels there.
The sound of the wind whistling through the sailboat stays as I made my pilgrimage to the town from the port. I actually could still be there, chef at a hotel, had I understood what was expected. Then I didn’t have the patience needed, to learn, to listen to be.
I did learn so much there, like what Greeks do late at night. I was fortunate that my friends introduced me to things so I could begin to live once more. It started me on the road to here. Where only now I can let go of the past and embrace the now and the future.
I am reading about other places, they now call to me. If I can only let go…
Greece held me tight to her, the beautiful mother that embraces. Some point in our lives, we must leave our mothers so we can learn the lessons of life first hand.
