his love of his Greek language and phrases,
“Se agapo,” “Eureka,” and “Opa,”
his agapi for life,
his agapi for family,
his love of the old country, Sparta,
his great gratitude for surviving starvation in his childhood
in shantytown by the Missouri River,
his love for playing his Floyd Cramer,
Ray Charles, and Ronnie Milsap albums,
his love of gardening season—planting seeds each year,
watching the earth nurse her babies—the blossoming and growth,
his love of weeding and the full fruits of his labor,
his love of his beautiful grape vine in July and August trellising the arch,
his admiration for his pink and purple cosmos that lined the border,
his love of his green peppers, cantaloupes, and onions,
his love of his tomato plants, the crowning glory of his garden,
lush, overflowing, vibrant red laced in deep green—and oh, those tomatoes,
red heart-shaped fruit, delicious and so good for me—
in all his Greek dishes and salads.
His love beyond his lifetime—agapi,
alive, unconditional, knowing no time or boundaries,
that holds me now in this sweet memory.


© by Judy Lorenzen.
Used here with the author's permission.