The price of peace.

Grandpa Spyros
(1950's)

Memorial day 2011. I am sitting at home alone this morning  as Melanie, took the boys and went to Oregon to visit family. It is a bit chilly outside for this time of year, so it gave me the opportunity to look through some old photos of my grandfather and remember him.  I posted a couple of these photos on facebook with a very short synopsis of how my grandfather came to the USA. A couple friends commented that I should write the stories down, as I remember them, before all is forgotten. I can not think of a better place to do this than here.
   The best way to start out,  is by how I remember my grandfather.
   Grandpa Spyros was always a very soft spoken, gentle person. I never once heard him raise his voice, or say anything in anger. He was quiet and introspective. When he spoke, he had a thick Greek accent, spoke deliberately, slowly, and at length. Most of my early memories of him were at his home in the Los Feliz area of Los Angeles. A home that he shared with his long time love, Gloria Feliciano, or Grandma Gloria to us. His history, as I know it is fascinating, yet looking back on the man I knew, you would have never guessed at the events that he had lived through.

Spyridon Anastassios Daoussis
Greek Navy Circa 1934

 Grandpa Spyros was born in Patras, Greece. His ancestors on his mother and fathers side came from the isle of Cephalonia, Damoulianata village, in the Greek Ionian Sea. My grandfather was born out of wedlock. His father, Anastasios Pavlou Daoussis, was engaged to another woman when he found out that Spyros' mother, Erato Alivizatos was pregnant. Erato was sent away to relatives in Patras, to avoid bringing  shame upon the family. My grandfather was treated as an orphan in most respects, while growing up, and had to learn to fend for himself very early on. Spyros, at a young age, found odd jobs at the docks near his home in Patras. A man had come to know Spyros, and took pity on him. This mans name was Giorgos Bougas. Giorgos would often invite Spyros to his home and feed him. Giorgos Bougas had a daughter; Anna Bougas. He liked Spyros, but didnt think he was good enough for his daughter, after all, Spyros was a poor orphan while the Bougas were well respected and better off than most families. At this point, I am making assumptions, based on facts. Spyros and Anna were fond of each other, although Spyros was 8 years her senior. At some point, on a day that Spyros was leaving port for several months, Spyros and Anna engaged in act of intimacy. Anna was 14 or 15 at the time, which would make Spyros 22 or 23. Spyros then departed for his voyage. 

  Giorgos Bougas' wife, Maria Bougas found out what had happened, and was in enraged. Being of a well respected family, and out of respect for Maria's husband Giorgos (who was out to sea at that time),  Spyros' ship was recalled to port. Instead of shooting my grandfather, Maria Bougas, my great grand mother, had Spyros and Anna Married. They had 2 children together. My uncle Tasso, and my mother. At the age of 18, my Grandfather joined the Greek Navy. In 1934, upon his release from the military, he joined the Greek merchant Marines. At the time these events transpired, Spyros was working as a merchant marine for the same company as Giorgos Bougas. 

  In 1940, Spyros was on a Merchant ship, which was attacked by German dive bombers and sunk off the coast of England. Spyros and his shipmates were rescued by a British destroyer

  In 1941, another merchant ship he was on, was sunk by a German U-boat.

   A few months later, when my Grandma Anna was 5 months pregnant with my mom, my grandpa Spyros departed on another merchant ship. This ship made trips from the UK to Nova Scotia. His ship was sunk in 1942, by a German U-boat off the coast of Nova Scotia.  Spyros spent about 48 hours afloat on a life raft before being rescued by a Canadian Naval ship. He was taken to a hospital in Canada or Nova Scotia, to recover. During this time, his ship was reported as destroyed, and Spyros was listed as deceased. Word eventually made it back to Anna in Greece, that her husband Spyros had been killed. 

  Meanwhile, Spyros joined the United States Merchant Marines. He worked on a supply ship making runs to and from New Zealand. At some point at sea, he contracted a severe case of food poisoning. In the 26 day journey to Los Angeles from New Zealand, Spyros lost 40lbs and barely escaped death.   Upon reaching Los Angeles, he was given a blood transfusion using blood from 5 American Servicemen. He was taken aback that someone would give their own blood to help save his life. He had fallen in love with this country and all that she stood for. He wanted to become a US citizen and join the US Navy. His wish was granted. Spyros joined the US Navy, and in May of 1944 he became a US Citizen. He became a Machinists mate engine man in the US Navy, which basically meant he worked in the engine room below deck.  Spyros worked aboard the newly commisioned USS Hugh W Hadley. He served on the Hadley for many months. On May 11th, 1945, the Hadley and its escort ships came under heavy fire off the coast of Okinawa, fighting off Japanese aircraft for over two hours. In a final barrage, 10 fighter planes attacked the Hadley. All 10 planes were destroyed; a total of 23 planes were shot down that day by the Hadley. The Hadley paid a heavy price though. Two bombs had hit the Hadley along with two Kamakazi planes. My grandpa was severely injured in this attack. He took a large piece of shrapnel to the head and was rendered unconscious. He had 3rd degree burns over most of his body. A friend pulled him from the wreckage and helped to get him to a hospital boat. He was sent to Guam to receive medical treatment. Spyros spent several months recovering from his injuries. He was unconscious or in a coma for weeks, and when he was conscious the pain was so severe, that all they could do was give him morphine. His shipmates that saw his condition when they took him from the Hadley, assumed that he would die, due to the severity of his wounds and burns. The war soon came to an end and Spyros eventually made it back to Los Angeles to finish his recovery.  

  My grand father soon learned that his wife Anna, back home in Greece, had mourned his death a few years earlier, remarried, and had started a new family.

    He decided to make the USA his permanent home. Spyros went to school in Los Angeles. Spyros remarried in the 1940's himself, and had two more sons; Phillip and Michael. He became a Mechanical Engineer, and returned to work for the US government until he retired.

  My Grandpa Spyros was a survivor.  He cheated death several times and never once gave up. Three times his ships were sunk, and three times he anxiously boarded another one. He loved and honored this country. I am proud that his blood flows through my own veins and now the veins of my sons. He is one of my greatest heros.

  In his last few years, Alzheimer's began to take my grandfathers memories. I remember one particular afternoon at my parents house. Grandpa Spyros was sitting in a circle with some family members, and enjoying some conversation. I remember listening to him speak; sometimes in english and sometimes in Greek. He was laughing and happy, happier than I had ever seen him. Every one was chuckling with him. When I asked my uncle what my grandfather was saying in Greek. My uncle replied, "He thinks he is on one of his ships and we are all his shipmates." I realized at that moment how happy he must have been in those days he spent upon the sea. So many memories of his were lost except the most deeply rooted; this was his proverbial "happy place". 

  He passed away a few months later.  I imagined that in his passing, he was greeted by some old friends on a dock in the Mediterranean, extending their hands to him, in a gesture to help him on to a ship. "Come Spyros, it is time to come home."

"I love chickens"

 I had to share this photo sequence. Recently, some family friends, and suppliers of our organic, farm fresh eggs, went out of town for a few days, and we tended to their chickens and other animals while they were away. Apollo loves when we are on chicken duty and gets so excited whenever he is on his way there; "I love the chickens!" he professes. 

  One particular Saturday morning, we arrived to do the chickens. We opened up the coop and let the chickens out into the yard. Apollo follows the chickens around, and talks to them, sings to them, and gives them advice; "Don't go in there," as he points to the blackberry bushes, "that's a big owe'eee!" Amidst his chatter, Apollo turned to me and mentioned that he wanted to hold the "little chicken." I told him that chickens don't like to be held and they were too fast to catch. That did not deter him at all. "Come here little chicken, I want to hold you." I watched Apollo walk over to the chicken a couple times, and bend over to pick her up. She would take a couple quick steps away from him, just out of arms reach, and the process would start over again. I chuckled to my self and turned away from Apollo to admire the weather and look around the pasture. I could hear Apollo talking to the chickens still, and decided that he must be content just following them around. Then, I heard a couple comments that made me stop and turn to see what was going on; "Your so cute!" followed by giggling,  "Your feathers are really soft." There was something in his tone that made me think that the situation had changed... in his favor. To my surprise, when I turned around, Apollo was walking through the pasture carrying the "little chicken" in is arm. I ran back to the car, and grabbed the camera, and snapped some shots.

It took me a few minutes, but I finally realized that several of the chickens were pretty tame and used to being handled. The family that lives here, has 3 children, the youngest is 5, and the oldest is 13, I believe.
  Apollo walked around with this chicken for 20 minutes or so. At one point he told me that he wanted to take the chicken home with him. I told him that the chicken couldn't come home with us. "Why not." he asked. "Because we don't have a place for him to live at our house," I replied. "Yes we do!", he snapped back, "I love chickens!" "Apollo, I love chickens too, especially cooked ones! If we take this chicken home, I will have to cook her and eat her."
  "NO dada, you cant eat her! she's  my friend!" Apollo replied in a scathing voice.
  "Well, maybe we better leave her here where she is safe, and we will only eat her eggs."
   After thinking about my proposition for a few seconds, Apollo kissed his chicken, and spoke softly to her, "You have to stay here." and set her gently on the ground.

Round Two

3D Ultrasound, May 3, 2011

Less than three months to go.  As I reflect on things to come, I must admit that I have a mixed bag of emotions. I am excited to have another son, and that Apollo will have a brother close to his age. I try to imagine what this new little guy will be like; how he will compare to Apollo in personality, temperament, and overall disposition.

April 14, 2011

 While I can't wait to find out, the horror of all things "baby" race through my mind. I am horrified at the thought of revisiting two more years of diapers!  Yes, this keeps me up at night. I will admit that I have a huge aversion to poop, not to mention urine,  spit-up, throw-up, and boogers! I can tell you that the gods smiled down upon me with Apollo; he would often go a week or so between "filling" his diaper.  He spit up, but only until about 6 months. He potty trained pretty easily and with out leaving  "gifts" on the floor in the corner of the room. On top of this, he wasn't a "booger baby"; I will spare you the descriptive details on this as I am gagging right now while trying not to think about it, let alone had I tried to describe it in words. So, yes...I do feel like I had someone watching over me. I think the hardest part of Apollo's first two years, was his horrible sleep habits, and I mean HORRIBLE! Most babies start sleeping through the night after the first few weeks or months. Not Apollo. It took 18 months to get him to the point where he would wake up only once during the night instead of two, then it took until 27 months to get him to sleep through the night. What I am leaving out here, is the fact that he wouldn't fall to sleep until after 11:00pm,  and then he would want to be up by 7:00am. He still goes to sleep late and gets up early. I spent many nights for the first 9 months walking the house with Apollo while he cried and Melanie slept. I spent the next 22 months, getting up 1 to 2 times each night to get him a bottle. I was so very happy when that phase came to an end. Now for round two. We are hoping for a sleeper this time, but I am not holding my breath, as this is my spawn after-all. I can't imagine that I will be as fortunate in the poopie diaper department again either, as I was with Apollo, but that time is rapidly approaching, where it will all be revealed to me.

May 3, 2011

  The other thing that terrifies me about the first 12 months, is the overall health and well being of the baby. There is so many things that can go wrong. As each month passes you can rest a bit easier. Then there is the fever...the classic "virus", which really translates into, "I have no idea what is wrong with your kid, so, I will tell you its a virus because that is the safe, all encompassing answer".  In the adult world, I can equate this to being a "consultant", which often times translates into, "I am unemployed right now, and instead of swallowing my pride and telling you this, I will tell you that I am into consulting, as I am looking for gainful employment and have no idea what field I will end up in."
  To top all this off, there is the mood swings, temper tantrums, crying fits, and public displays of discontent! I am talking about Melanie here, but I suppose this applies to the baby as well. Just kidding Mel!
  I know I have focused on all the things I don't like about the baby years, but I do know that the rewards are great. I will not trade even a second of the last three years with Apollo. There is magic in every moment if we but open our eye's to see it.

Only Momma!

My mom; Margarita Miles
with me as a baby. circa 1968

Through out the ages, there has seemingly been different celebrations of motherhood. A far cry from the way that we may celebrate Mothers day today, however, it is the sentiment behind this special day that counts. Perhaps Mother day has its origins from "Mothering Sunday", which dates back to 17th century England, where the 4th Sunday of Lent was set aside for Mothers. A day where their children, who were often farmed out as servants, farm hands, or sent away to trade school, were allowed to return home for the day to spend time with their mother.  Now, before I go any further, let me just interject and say, the Brits had it right; farming out your teens...its genius! What mother wouldn't be thrilled to see her teen when she didn't have to see them day in and day out, and deal with the teen attitudes.  Even better was the fact that the parents collected the salary earned by the child. I guess that is what would be referred to as the "good ol' days".
   Now, as I understand it, the early settlers in the USA, really wanted to separate themselves from England and her traditions. "Mothering Sunday" never took hold here. Farming out your kids did take hold for a while, but has faded away through out the generations. (I am contemplating starting a petition to bring "Farming out" back.)
  As early American settlers strived to be different and independent, many English traditions were not incorporated into this "New World".  As several local traditions were set up to honor mothers, most were short lived and never caught on. A few women were instrumental in establishing the Mothers day that we celebrate today. To spare you from an extensive history lesson, I will narrow it down to one key person; Anna Jarvis. Ms Jarvis organized the first Offical Mothers day in honor of her mother's hard work and dedication as a Sunday school teacher of over 20 years and the annual "Mothers friendship day" which she organized and held the help heal the pain of the Civil War. The first official "Mothers Day" was held on May 10th, 1908, at Andrew's Methodist Church, in Grafton, West Virginia. Anna Jarvis sent over 500 white carnation flowers; one to be worn by every son and daughter, and two by every mother in the congregation. The irony is that several years later, Anna Jarvis was arrested at a Mothers Day festival for trying to stop women from selling flowers. She stated, "I wanted it to be a day of sentiment, not profit."

Melanie Miles with Apollo
28th April, 2008

  No matter its origin, whether you celebrate her on a specific day or not, we all have a mother, and she deserve to be recognized and honored. There is nothing more precious than the gift of life. Only a mother can give us this gift, through birth. As I have watched Melanie grow this new life inside of her, the same as I watched Apollo, I am humbled by how amazing this truly is. To place your hand on the stomach of an expectant mother and feel your baby move inside for the first time, is nothing short of incredible, but to realize how that must be for a mother, to have and to feel that child growing and moving inside, is beyond comprehension... a sensation that as a man, I will never experience.
  To see the bonding and connection between mother and child at birth; to watch as the years unfold and see how each and every day, this bond is renewed; to experience the love, patients, and nurturing, as well as the firm but gentle hand that is both disciplinarian and nurse; has been a heart warming experience for me. I have a new appreciation for my own mother. I know she made endless sacrifices for me and my siblings.
  Your mother has your back all the time. She is your biggest fan in everything that you do. She will nurse you back to health when you are ill. She will bandage your wounds when you are hurt. She can unleash a wrath on you that only a mother can get away with, and yet still love you more than anything. As a child, your mother is also your best friend, playmate, doctor, secretary, teacher, maid, chef, taxi, and more.

Listening to moms instructions

  I love how much Apollo adores his mom. At times, I will overhear him ask his mom for something. I offer to get it for him, at which point Apollo will turn to me and exclaim, "No! Only momma!" Yes, only momma indeed. Apollo has recently asked me, "Are you hungry dada? Momma will cook you something", giving further credence to the role of Mother". Keep in mind that most of the time on Saturday and Sunday morning, I get up early and make breakfast for Apollo and will keep him in snacks through out the day when I am home, but when it comes down to it, he still sees his mom as his personal chef and food provider.
  Melanie told me after my last post a couple days ago, that she thought that that post was going to be about mothers and Mothers Day. I responded with, "The blog is entitled, 'Apple G', for Apollo, not 'Momma M' for Melanie." Yes, I was having some fun at her expense, but as I thought about it some more, I felt compelled to write. After all, where would any of us be with out our moms. This blog is the best gift I can give Melanie to honor "Motherhood". Not just this post, but as a whole. I would not have this blog, nor would I have Apollo, were it not for her. Thank you Melanie, for being an amazing mother to Apollo, and to our new son that is on the way, as well as to Ian and Aden. Thank you for being a loving wife, and best friend. We would all be lost with out you.  I will continue my efforts to "Farm out" the teens to make next years "Mothers Day" that much more special.

May 2011. 26 weeks pregnant.

  

3 Years old!

Silly Birdy!

 "Un! Arn...arn... I'm a baby salamander! Are you a daddy salamander?" ~Apollo~
The imagination of this now, three year old son of mine, is in full bloom. He has become a self proclaimed salamander. He has created his own salamander noises and mannerisms. At any given time, he will switch into character and proclaim, "I'm not Apollo! I'm a salamander!"
  At this point, everything is sorted into categories by what salamanders like and dislike...as  determined by Apollo. "Is that salamander food?", which means he might want to eat that if it tastes good, if not, "Thats not salamander food!" will be the response. Everything is prefaced with 'salamander' if it is something that Apollo likes; salamander feet, salamander shoes, salamander bed, salamander toys, etc.
  He even has a snail character and a frog character too, but the salamander is by far the favorite.
  All his characters are very endearing, and I am continually impressed by how he develops, and gives a unique personality to each one.
  Apollo is a spring baby, and true to that label, he loves the outdoors, the plants and trees, the bugs and butterflies, and the flowers. He is amazingly observant of his environment; both day and night. He recognizes and points out the stars, the Milky Way, and the moon. "Is that the Milky Way? I love the Milky Way!"

Yes, I made the fondant and decorated the cake.

Apollos first sun glasses...that he will actually wear.

Hey Bunny, where's the candy?

  The month of April has brought one celebration after another. First was my 43rd birthday followed by easter, and then Apollo's birthday. We had Easter egg hunts, Easter egg decorating parties, cake decorating parties, birthday parties, and I am sure Apollo thought it was all for him. We have had some great times this month, and Apollo has seemed to blossom into Prince Charming. Don't get me wrong, Apollo still throws some fantastic fits. He can be incredibly bossy and opinionated, but the tantrums have thinned out a bit and the charming side of Apollo has come out in full force. He is very engaging and wants to talk about everything. He wants to know what every sound is, and what every new thing he comes across is called. His conversations are long winded, and very insightful considering his limited vocabulary.
  One of my favorite memories from this age will be Apollo riding on my shoulders. I spend a good amount of time with Apollo sitting on my shoulders. It always starts out while we are walking somewhere. Apollo will turn to me and say, "Dada, I want to hold you." He will then maneuver in front of me, facing away, and come to a stop. "Dada, I want to go up top." This means he is ready for a ride on my shoulders.  I lift him over my head and shoulders, and set him in place.
  I love this for two reasons; first, Apollo has so much trust in me, that while he is sitting on my shoulders, he will, without warning, throw himself backwards, so he is dangling from my shoulders. Yeah, I always have to make sure I am holding onto his feet. Not only do we both find this hysterical, but I get the extra added bonus of watching peoples faces when they think a toddler just fell off my shoulders. This just flat out freaks people out! Apollo also likes to play 'Watch out!'; a little game he and I developed where I walk under low tree branches or door ways to try to brush him off. He hangs on for dear life, leaning from one side to the other laughing out loud and saying, "Watch out!" The second thing that I love about the shoulder rides, is how Apollo will embrace my whole head, lean over and rest his head on top of mine..."I'm tired dada." He will yawn and drift off to sleep.
The last 3 years have gone by so quickly. I have cherished every moment with Apollo, and I can not believe I have another son on the way.

  It will be a challenging but welcome chapter in our lives when this new little guy arrives. I am overwhelmed with the thought of reliving the infant through toddler years again. I am equally overwhelmed with the thought of falling in love this deeply again, with another child. As with all parents, I can't help but feel that my chid is special, and unique, and so much better than everyone else's kid, but to me, he is. It gives me great hope for the future in knowing that I am not alone in how I feel. I hope that as a father, I am not unique in my passion for my kids. I have to believe that most parents feel this way about their babies, and as long as most of us do, there will always be good in the world.