A promise kept to my grandchild
When my grandkids were young, I told them I would take them anywhere in the world when they turned 16. The first grandchild to take me up on my offer was Phoebe. She chose Milos, Greece.
My daughter, Mariah, Phoebe’s mom, was very worried about the two of us going alone, so she decided to join us as our chaperone.
On June 13, we boarded a plane to Athens and spent three days visiting the Parthenon and various museums studying Greek history and mythology. It was hot, very hot, and I was happy to hop on a prop plane and fly the 40 minutes across the Aegean Sea to Milos, which is an island that receives very little attention or fanfare.
We rented a tiny but adorable boathouse apartment. The front door was literally three feet from the lapping sea and when the wind picked up and the waves rose, we had to install storm boards to keep water from rushing into the boathouse.
Every morning as the sun rose, my daughter would walk outside and into the sea. Watching her glide into the glistening waves while the sun rose to greet the promise of the day made my heart sing. We were living off the grid and it took only a day or two for us to acclimate to living a life of simplicity and unobtrusive peacefulness.
Most mornings Phoebe would sleep in until about 10 a.m. and wake up cranky and hungry (typical teenager). We would hop in our rental car with the standard shift and drive into town for breakfast at Dom’s. For the rest of the day, we would visit various beaches and finish up our day with dinner in the town of Plako.
To get there, we would hike up a stone path and stairs to the top of the steep hillside to find restaurants, shops, music, laughter and the best locally sourced and traditional food. We always ended our day watching the magnificent sunsets from the church at the top of the hillside.
One day we rented a boat with a very handsome captain named Nicholas. He took us swimming at various islands close to Milos. The water was translucent, and a bright green blue. Nicholas said it was such a color because there was very little if any human impact. These beaches were only reachable by boat.
After our two-week vacation in Milos, we headed back to Vermont. There was a special twinkle in Phoebe’s eye when she turned 16 two days after we returned. She thrived on this trip, expanded her horizons and grew up.
She learned about another culture, their food, myths, history and people. I, on the other hand, became younger. My now-tanned skin grew softer, and from the inside out I developed a radiance and a spry skip to my step.
The salt water and air was healing for my lungs that were recovering from a three-month-long respiratory illness. The daily exercise, incredibly healthy food, luscious views and kind, friendly people all provided a sense of calm and healing.
The second-to-last day we were in Milos, I went cliff diving. Phoebe followed me off the cliff. In that moment while we hugged each other and lauded our courage, you would never have known that 60 years separated us. Phoebe made me feel ageless as I danced in the radiance of her light and the warmth of her love.
“We ought to dance with rapture that we might be alive… and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.”
—Nikos Kazantzakis, “Zorba the Greek”
