To be celebrated as a human

Grandma’s death made me realise that you don’t have to achieve perfection in order to be celebrated as a human; what a weight to have lifted.

Grandma1 was stubborn.

Born in the thirties of the 20th century, she was married and had 3 children. She looked after her parents as they grew older, raised her niece and her firstborn grandson. A spouse till her mid fifties when her husband abandoned her.

At that age she got a job at Tupperware to make ends meet.

Through her work she got to travel to London, attend events at the Hilton Athens Hotel (a lot of the time with her grandson by her side to look after) was appointed team leader and given a corporate car.

She started her life in her fifties and at the age of 81, at her funeral, every single person was standing up and her colleagues donated money to charity on her name.

People again and again praised her great mind, reached out to her for advice and admired how she could hold a conversation about any subject.

I do wonder and hope to achieve, if only at the slightest, the greatness of this woman.

Who I am today, I owe a great deal to her.


  1. The last child, youngest daughter of a family coming from Trabzon and Çeşme and moved to Corinth. ↩︎

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This is a personal website, at the outskirts of the web, away from social media and publishing platforms. This website surfaces social, racial, economic traits and explores human relationships. It highlights the conditions that contribute to one's personal success or downfall. It shares stories that act as a reminder that life is messy, complex, nuanced, diverse. It aims to bring the world closer together. It reaches out to those that feel lost, lonely, inadequate and outcasts. I am with you.