Our dear family friend Angelo Mitchell was buried a few days ago (just 3 weeks after a Coffee Hour in honor of his 90th birthday, what a blessing!) -- and I wasn't there, except in spirit.
Angelo (somehow, I cannot call him "Mitch") was our Go-To-Guy -- for a hug, a wooden step stool, a golf game or a story about the past. And he knew a lot about that as a life-long Stockton boy who became a soldier, husband, father and important member of St. Basil's parish. He spent 90 years in and around our town with almost any member of the Greek-American community you can think of, including my grandparents and parents. I simply cannot remember not knowing Angelo and Flossie Mitchell and their daughters (and my pals) Angela and Mimi. Rides out to their house so many years ago on some rural roads was a special treat (and practicably a field trip).
We cannot bring back our Loved Ones or The Good Old Days. We can only aspire to live up to them. Zoi se mas.
NOTE: I will be in Stockton soon for the Thanksgiving Holiday, so please get your photo albums ready and sharpen you memories of those Good Old Days. And when you are sitting around the Thanksgiving table sharing family stories, please write them down. (You'll regret it some day if you don't!)