The remnants of being a communist’s son
‘’Is it okay Granpa if I turn your story into an article?’’ I said. When the words left my mouth, I saw him freeze. He reflected what seemed like eternity, collected himself and said:
‘’Publish it. But you tell them. Tell them that I now support the current state. Tell them I hold no grudge. Tell them I comply and bow to the government’’
My granma teared behind him and whispered:
‘’His father will turn in his grave’’
In our time we oftenly forget the battles our ancestors had to fight; just for us to live now comfortably. More often than less, these stories are worth a fraction of our time. Not only that, our elders usually feel the need to tell them. Hear them out! They might have more interesting things to say than you thought! At least, that’s what we found out.
*
Since I was a kid, I had my grandpa rumbling on each time I came to visit. Going on and on about how hard he had it and what he had to overcome. How my mom never had to struggle while growing up. ‘’Come let me tell you a story’’ he always said longingly.
But me, I exhaled loudly and sat there on my phone. Pretending to hear what he had to say, I was nodding my head every once in a while and continued texting my friends ‘’This is so boring. Call me in five so I can excuse myself’’.
Time went on and the motive repeated every year. Then this year, we gathered once more for my grandpa’s birthday. Heavily he took a breath to blow out the candles writing ‘’85'’. Blowing them out he looked at me proudly, with a smile on his face.
That’s when it struck me. Time went on. Time was passing me by. That’s when I realised, this old man, eyes shining every time he saw me; just wanted to be heard. So I walked towards him and for once it was me who initiated the conversation. ‘’Grandpa can you tell me a story?’’
This man. This wonderful man. He looked at me like he was waiting for this question his entire life. Slowly, he walked towards the couch, took a pillow on his lap, laid back and took a breath:
‘’It all started when my father arrived in Greece in 1912 from Kafkaso. A few years before the agreement was signed between Greece and Turkey in 1923 for the exchange. We ran a few years back since life for greeks in Turkey was already getting more and more dangerous by the day.
My parents went through a lot when they first came here. Banished from their homes. From rich to homeless in a matter of days. But, slow and steady they built a life for themselves here. Everything was fine, we had our land which my father was cultivating. We didn’t have our previous wealth but we were safe.
That’s when the Germans came. The greatest part of Greece back then were refugees. People that already lost their home once before, who created everything from scratch and weren’t going to lose it again. So, my father joined what you now know as ‘’the communists’’, but back then during civil war, it was just ΕΑΜ (in english; the national liberation front). So, he fought for our country. A country which later betrayed him.
Like that, the worst came when we won. After war was over, in the rest european countries, it was the the political party that helped win which formed the country’s government. In our case that did not happen. The previous government took power again and communism was branded as ‘’outlawed’’. As were the people who collaborated with it. So my father was considered as an enemy of the state among many others.
Then the dark years begun. Years that are now barely mentioned in school books. The civil war of 1946 to 1949. People that were once fighting side by side were now enemies. Going between each other’s backs. As for us, the communist families, we were starving.
An organisation called ‘’UNRRA’’ was formed. The United States had sent tons of food to help us during these hard times. Food that was sent to our country for free, but was sold for a price. Not only sold, but sold cheaper than our own products. So, my family was not able to sell what we produced. We were desperate.
My father was going once per week to buy his ration. But he had another thing coming. For us, the outlaws, they were adding rocks in our rations, so they would be heavier when weighted. Thus, it had less food inside. It was not enough for us to survive’’
Taken aback from what I heard, I blinked multiple times, trying to comprehend everything. All this time, he had so much to tell and I never listened. I didn’t know. ‘’So how did you survive? What happened?’’ I wondered.
‘’Well kiddo, my father was not a calm man. Everyone was telling him to keep quiet. To bow his head. I wished he did. But he didn’t. He went toe to toe with the chief of the rations which lead to his exile.
The government sent him for four years in a concentration camp for exiles in Makronisos. That was in 1948 until 1953. They tried to break him. There he spent all his time with M. Theodoraki. One of our greatest singers now in Greece, who composed songs of these times.
When he came back, the years were softer now with less tention. He lived the rest of his life in peace. But, as you know that’s when a now well-known saying was formed in Greece. ‘’ Parents sins are torturing their children’’.
Because of my father’s actions, I was not allowed to study at any university. Back then, we needed a certificate of social beliefs to be registered in any school. That certificate was proof that we are not communists and thus enemies of the state. Of course, because of my father I could never get it.
So, I left for Germany of all countries. That’s how I would prove that I had no ill will for what happened. I studied in Austria and Munich for 6 years, from 1958 to 1965. When I came back, I had to go to military for a while to have the right to work afterwards.
Unfortunately, the certificate I took from the army wrote ‘’good’’ but not ‘’excellent’’. People that had this grade was either because they had done prison time or they had a communist background. So, I stayed in the army until my officers liked me enough to change it to ‘’excellent’’.
After that everything was easier. Life is never easy, but from then, at least it was fair. I worked as a political engineer all my life, built my company from scratch and acquired all the wealth that you now all enjoy.’’
After he fininshed his story I sat there silently, looking at him like I was seeing him for the first time. Feeling proud to call him grandpa but guilty that I never gave him my time before, I swore to myself that from now and on, I’ll never take him or anyone for granted again.