“Leonidis,” A Man of Love and Courage!

 

By Justine Frangouli-Argyris

 Yesterday, Leonidas Frangoulis, my father’s last surviving brother, passed away in Sydney, Australia. Uncle Leonidas, or “Leonidis” as he was playfully called by our grandparents in Englouvi, left us after a long bout with Alzheimer’s but with the cause of death officially listed as coronavirus. He will now be able to meet up with his beloved wife, Katina, who died, tragically, in a car accident last year.

 Uncle Leonidas was sensitive man, reminiscent of someone who had descended form Scandinavia rather than from the isolated mountain village of Englouvi. With white skin and transparent green eyes, he had the face of an aristocratic, features that set him apart from his other brothers. I believe that his delicate look was inherited by my sister, Konstantina, along with his beautiful cheekbones.

 Leonidis began life as a shepherd, tending to the family flock of grandfather Apostolis. The job was heavy and unsuited to his delicate nature and my father would urge him to go abroad in search of a better life.

 One day, his opportunity came by way of a proposal from another isolated Lefkadian village. His future wife, Aunt Katina Vlachou, had sent a photo to her brothers in Exanthia requesting an eligible groom from the island.Uncle Leonidas responded with a photo of his own and Katina, who had been in Australia for a few years and put aside a little sum, said yes to the unknown beau.

 And so it happened. Before we knew it, we found ourselves in Exanthia, at Aunt Katina’s brother's house near the town square, bearing “European” macarons from the pastry shop and my mother’s exceptional “ladopita,” the traditional Lefkadian sweet made of oil, sugar and flour.  Mom had put everything on beautiful platters wrapped in colorful cellophane that she had tied with bows together with a thousand wishes for Leonidis to love Katina and for them to live happily ever after.

 We arrived in Exanthia, along with our whole extended family, after a tortuous ride in the local (KTEL) bus. We were the groom's procession and the whole village had come out to welcome us while our in-laws to be were anxiously awaiting to begin the celebrations. Uncle Leonidas danced first, followed closely by the rest of us, to rejoice that he would soon be boarding an ocean liner to Australia. Leonidis spun and twirled to “Amaranto,” his beloved tsamiko song, while being held up by a white handkerchief clutched by the dancer next to him. And my mother cried which seemed strange to me because it was a time of joy and not of tears.

 So, uncle Leonidas,who had never travelled before outside of Lefkada, emigrated to Australia where Aunt Katina was waiting. The wedding took place quickly with great fanfare. He wore a splendid suit while she wore a cute veiled wedding dress and held a bouquet. They sent us photos from the studio and we boasted that they looked happy and radiant in a large picture that grandmother put in the window of her commode and which we kept in our living room dresser.

 Leonidis regularly wrote long letters to my father describing every aspect of his life in Australia. He worked in one of the restaurants owned by Katina's brother and was very happy.  He sent money he saved so my father could buy him a plot of land in Lefkada.

 Shortly afterwards, the happy couple welcomed their firstborn, Konstantina, but this was followed by sadness as that they lost their second, another baby girl. 

 The years passed and Konstantina was growing up. When she was 9, they decided to come to Lefkada for summer vacation and to meet uncle Leonidas’ family.

 Konstantina was a sweet little girl who stole everyone’s heart. She spoke Greek with a cute Australian accent, catching everyone's attention. “Tyropitaman,” she would shout out to the cheese pie seller on the beach and run to treat all the children. My sister and I were jealous of her popularity and we could not wait for her to return to Australia so we could reclaim our place in the family. Aunt Katina was wonderful and we loved her from the start. As for Uncle Leonidas, he bought us anything we desired and I distinctly remember a nice girl’s pink purse from Gatzias’ store.

 Our uncle would call during the Holidays and it was with great joy that my father would hear that he was doing nicely, having opened a Fish ’n Chips restaurant of his own and built a house in one of Sydney’s nice neighborhoods. When Konstantina graduated, becoming a teacher, and married the love of her life, Giannis Kossivas, Leonidis and Katina would visit frequently and my parents were very happy to see them and be able to spend months with them in Lefkada.

 I really got to know Uncle Leonidas and Aunt Katina when we visited Australia in 2012. He was overjoyed, taking us everywhere, as was Konstantina, who pampered us to no end. We bonded with Konstantina and Giannis and got to know their children, Katerina and Christos, who have since begun their own travels to Greece.

 Leonidis had prospered in Australia and lived a beautiful, loving life with his family. I remember enjoying his company so much. He would caress my hands and tell me how overjoyed he was that we had visited. He told me that he would not be able to return to Greece, given his advanced age, as his “legs would not hold up.”  I insisted that he would surely manage but he kept repeating, "I will die with the pain that I will never again see my paternal home” and that "I am grateful to Australia for my good life but it is not my land.”

 I left Australia with a deep satisfaction that Uncle Leonidas had succeeded in life and family. It pained me that he would never return to his homeland and I felt his alienation, and the alienation of us all, deeply and inevitably.

 Leonidis suffered from Alzheimers a few years after and was cared for by his faithful and devoted Katina until he would require more professional help. Strong and capable, Aunt Katina would visit him daily until she was tragically killed in a car accident last year, so unjustly and unexpectedly. 

 Konstantina would send me photos that showed uncle Leonidas had become a shadow of himself but that he would smile when he saw her even though he could no longer speak or communicate.

 December 28 was the last time Konstantina was allowed to see him as visitation was suspended because  of COVID, to which Leonidis would eventually succumb. It was time to go and meet the woman he married from a photo and loved.

 Have a good trip where you are going,my beloved uncle! Υou were a man of LOVE and COURAGE!

 Konstantina, rejoice that he lived a wonderful life abroad, that he dared leave his homeland for the unknown. Feel content that you cared for him 'til the end. You are a worthy daughter and a wonderful cousin and our arms will always be open for you and your family. May uncle Leonidas’ soul be blessed and his memory never forgotten!