I was nervous. Really nervous. And I couldn’t figure out why. I am my mother’s daughter, for crying out loud! I thought to myself. I knew how to perform for crowds. I knew how to be the center of attention and be a gracious host. My mom made sure we all mastered those skills.
Still, my stomach churned a little as I sat in front of the mirror, taking extra time to make sure my makeup was perfect. Somewhere between the eyeliner and mascara, my fingernails made their way to my mouth and I unconsciously began biting away, a nervous habit I cultivated as a kid.
“Poli orea!” I said to my reflection, eyes bright and my smile stretching across my face. The day before, Chris, his mom, his mom’s best friend and his cousin sat at a table for hours while we celebrated a beautiful Greek christening of a friend’s baby. And by “celebrating,” I mean we ate. For five hours, waiters at a scrumptious Italian restaurant delivered course after course to our table. We had a lot of time to talk.
“Are you ready for your shower, Katie?” his cousin smiled deviously. ”Of course I am!” I answered too quickly.
“What are some Greek sayings I should know for tomorrow?” I posed to everyone at the table. I was eager to make a good impression at the wedding shower the next day. My soon-to-be mother-in-law had gone out of her way to organize it and I knew the room would be filled with her friends, family, friends’ family and co-workers, most of whom were Greek. Some of whom spoke only Greek.
“Ef haristo para poli!” Tasia said with her hands in the air. ”It means ‘thank you very much!’” I smiled, “Oh, I know that one!”
“Poli orea,” Chris chimed in. I had never heard that one and it seemed very easy. ”What does it mean?” I asked.
“It means, ‘I love it!’ for when you’ve opened a gift.”
So, I practiced “Poli orea!” in the mirror that morning, hoping it would sound natural and genuine.
***
There’s no way we could have been late. A few dozen times, Chris’ mom had instructed him to drop me off at 3:45pm. On the dot, I gave him a kiss goodbye at the restaurant door. ”They’re all here to celebrate you, babe.” Chris said lovingly before he pulled away. ”Enjoy it!”
I smiled with gratitude and walked in the small banquet hall, where my eyes immediately found his mom. She looked nervous too. It wasn’t a normal part of Matoula’s personality to stand up in front of crowds or be the head organizer for an event. She was usually happy standing in the background and supporting from behind the scenes. But today, she was the leader of one of the most important moments in a Greek mother’s life: the celebration of her child’s wedding. She glowed with love.
Matoula softly grabbed my arm and led me around to the guests who had already arrived. In very fast Greek, she introduced her daughter-in-law to her friends. Her hand was soft on my back as I politely grabbed hands and kissed cheeks, repeating, “Yasu tikanis!” to just about everyone. ”Hello, how are you?” sounds so beautiful in Greek. The yiayia’s (grandmothers) smiled at me with childish grins. Who is this gringa speaking Greek? I’m sure they wondered.
Soon, I was sitting at my table, talking to the cousins I knew and killing time as Matoula brought each arriving guest my way. ”Thank you so much for coming!” I said as I hugged and kissed each one. One kiss on the cheek for some, a kiss on both cheeks for others.
And I was sincere in my thanks. I knew they weren’t here for me. They were here because of my mother-in-law. They were here to honor her and celebrate her son’s wedding. For decades, she had supported their families, gone to their children’s weddings, attended their kids’ christenings and sat at the tables of dozens of wedding showers. She had shown her love to her family and friends by showing up every time, full of love. And they adored her for it.
“Katie, I wanna tell you something so you understand,” Chris’ cousin said the day before at the christening. ”You know you’re getting the best mother-in-law of all time, right?” A huge grin beamed across my face, full of pride for Chris’ mom. Just two seats away from me, she blushed red, completely embarrassed by her nephew’s comments, but extremely touched.
Tasia, her best friend, chimed in. “That’s right! Matoula’s the best! Everybody knows that!”
“I’m serious, Katie,” his cousin continued. ”She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’s sweet, supportive and loves her family like crazy.” He paused for a moment. ”You’re very lucky.”
I glanced at Matoula who could no longer make eye contact with anyone. ”Oh c’mon,” she stammered, unsure of how to react to such a sweet compliment. When she finally caught my eye, I gave her a big smile and said simply, “I know.”
Later that night, while sitting with another cousin, I received the exact same message. ”You know Matoula’s going to be the best mother-in-law ever, right?” he stated. ”I mean, she’s the sweetest woman ever.”
So, as more and more people arrived at my shower, I was not surprised to see them hug and kiss my mother-in-law with tenderness and gratitude. The beautiful music of the Greek language filled the room and soon, the food began its multi-course parade out to the tables. White linens draped over the tables in the corner, where gift-wrapped favors were piled in four neatly stacked rows and dozens of presents vied for the most prominent place to be seen.
“Man, you’re lucky,” Cousin Elen said as she approached me. ”If you guys didn’t live down in Florida, you’d have five times as many presents!” I looked at the overflowing table of gifts and wondered how in the world we could possibly get any more.
“Oh yeah,” she concluded when she saw the look on my face. ”It can get crazy.”
“I want to thank everyone for coming,” Matoula stood nervously in front of the crowd as she began her speech. Everyone slowly turned their chairs so they could see their host. ”I have a little speech I’d like to say.” The room quieted as she pulled out three sheets of notebook paper and placed her glasses carefully on her face. Looking down on the paper, she took a deep breath in and began reading her words.
“I remember the day Chris called me up and said, ‘Mom, I have a surprise for you when I come up to New York next week.’ I asked him if it was another teddy bear – he had just given me one for Mother’s Day.” I laughed along with everyone else in the room – we all knew about Chris’ obsession with teddy bears. After a few chuckles herself, she continued, “‘No, Mom,’ he said, ‘I’m bringing someone special with me.’ Soon, I met Katie.”
I couldn’t help but give Matoula a big smile. I thought back to the first time I met her almost three years ago. Chris was flying up to New York for his cousin’s wedding and he had asked me to come with him. The fact that we had only been dating a month by that point was irrelevant. I knew he was my soul mate…meeting the family was simply the next logical step. Walking into his childhood house on Long Island, I was immediately kissed and embraced by Matoula. ”Welcome, welcome!” her thick Greek accent made me smile and I liked her right away. ”Are you hungry?” And before I had a chance to respond, “Sit! Sit! I made dinner!” I laughed to myself while images of my mom ran through my head. Kiss, kiss. Hug, hug. Food, food. That was the order of business in my family too. I immediately felt at home.
“I never had a daughter,” Matoula continued as she looked at me. My eyes welled up with tears and I knew everyone was looking at me. Chris always told me that his mom had always wanted a girl, a fact that was foreign to me since I was just one of six women in my family. Still, I enjoy playing into it, making sure we have time for pedicures, shopping or cooking any time we see one another.
I recalled all these girly adventures as my mother-in-law finished her speech and I jumped up and gave her a big hug. The cousins were touched…they had never seen their Thea Matoula speak so openly before. Hugs were exchanged before everyone retreated to their seats to feast on the dinner that was now being delivered to the tables.
Thankfully, the Greek tradition of “Present Theater” is very similar to the present opening ceremonies celebrated in my house growing up. Imagine this: Christmas day, presents spilling out from under the tree, every individual claiming their own place in the family room and, after presents are gleefully disseminated, they are opened up, one by one, person by person, so that both receiver and giver – and the entire family – can enjoy the moment. For 7 hours.
Birthdays were my favorite. I, the lucky birthday girl, would sit in the middle of a circle of presents, holding an empty Mr. Pibb bottle, my fingers itching for action. ”Okay, Katie,” my mom would announce, “go ahead and spin the bottle!” This wasn’t your normal version of spin the bottle. There were no kisses or 7-minutes-in-heaven waiting on the other end of the bottle (Eeeewwwe! This is my family people!). Once the bottle finished its dizzying spin, I was allowed to open whichever lucky present it landed on.
Opening presents was a production in the Krienitz household. And it was no different for my Greek family. I was ushered to a chair in the front of the room and immediately, an assembly line of cousins fell in line behind me like factory workers, ready to play their part in the Present Theater. The presents and cards traveled from the table to the “batter’s box” to my lap. When it arrived, the card was already opened, ready for me to read. Another cousin sat to my right, recording each of the presents received in great description so my thank you cards could be detailed. And then, my time came to perform.
“Poli orea!” I said to the yiayia who gave me the shinytoaster oven. I remembered the instructions from my assembly line cousins; “open the present, say the name aloud and say thank you.”
I looked directly in her eyes and said graciously, “ef haristo para poli!” She beamed.
Ford would have been proud of this assembly line system. Within a short 30 minutes, I was done. Dessert was out and now it was my turn for a speech. I had practiced it in my head during my run earlier than morning and was ready for my performance.
“I spent most of my 20′s doing what most professional women do. I furthered my career and looked for love. And over and over again, I kept dating the wrong guys. After one particularly horrible breakup, I decided I wasn’t going to have any more boyfriends; that the next man in my life would be the one…my husband. I made a list of the qualities that were important to me and soon, I met Chris. As soon as we got together, I knew this was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. So I just want to thank all of you in here.” My eyes jumped from face to face. ”Each of you have had some sort of impact on Chris and I want to thank you for helping mold him into the incredible man that he is. I’m really grateful for all of you.”
Dozens of faces smiled up at me, proud that they knew Chris, the bird-loving, sweet, mischievous and loving person that held a very special place in all their hearts.
“And on top of finding my soul mate, I had the privilege of being welcomed into this family,” I continued. ”To make sure you understand how much it means to me, I need you to understand the kind of family I have. I grew up on the border of Mexico, so my entire family was engrossed with the Mexican culture. And the Mexican culture and the Greek culture are very similar. Lots of food, lots of hugs, lots of laughter, lots of kisses…lots of people!” Giggles rolled over the room and they all nodded their heads with identification. ”And then I came up to meet Chris’ family and immediately, Matoula was so welcoming and open. And one by one, I met all of you, and there it was: kiss, kiss. Hug, hug. Food, food. I immediately felt like I was home.” My eyes started tearing up.
“I am honored to become a part of the Krimitsos family and I am so thankful to all of you for coming out to celebrate today.”
The hugs started coming my way and I was soon in the wonderful sea of the Greek language again. Just in time, Chris pulled up, ready to say hi and give his thanks to everyone for coming out. They mobbed him and I could see the love in their eyes.
I slowly made my way over to my mother-in-law and gave her a giant bear hug. ”Ef haristo, Matoula,” I said as I looked her directly in the eyes, “I love you.”
