Chapter 37: Remembrance

August 25, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

I had a nice dinner with Kris and her family, and when we finished, we returned to our cars for the drive to Saint Michael.

"I hope my little sister didn't bother you," Kris said once we were in my Mustang.

I smiled, "I was more concerned about it bothering you, but you seemed amused by her flirting."

"I think it's normal for a girl her age to flirt that way. She has a crush, I think you call it."

"I've seen it before," I replied. "My little sister's friends behaved that way during my Senior year in High School when they were around fifteen."

"Did you ever date any of your sister's friends?"

"Much to Liz's annoyance," I chuckled. "I dated her best friend the Summer after I graduated from High School."

"I thought you and your sister got along well."

"We do, now. There were some very rough patches, and there's some important history which I'll share with you after our betrothal."

"Why not until then?"

"Some things can only be shared with my wife, and you know the Orthodox theology behind betrothal."

Kris laughed softly, "Including many people looking the other way if the couple live together at that point."

"Among the laity, absolutely. That said, the tradition in our diocese is for betrothal and crowning to occur back-to-back, which changes the picture. A period of chastity is considered important if the couple has already been intimate."

"Answer this, please — are you going to tell me something which might cause me to reconsider?"

"I don't believe so," I replied. "Most of what I have to tell you is about my sister, but what happened had far-ranging effects. Elizaveta knew, as does Father Nicholas. Our former bishop knew some of it, as does Vladyka JOHN. My friend Clarissa, who'll you'll meet in a few minutes, knows literally everything."

"She's the one with the girlfriend, yes?"

"Yes. They actually attend services occasionally at Saint Michael, as did some gay friends of mine."

"Americans seem far more uptight about homosexuality than the French."

"I think Americans are more uptight about a lot of things than Europeans in general," I replied. "Me, I blame the Puritans and other assorted Calvinists. Unfortunately, the strong Orthodox presence here was in Russian Alaska, and had little contact with the US until gold was discovered. By the time significant numbers of Greeks and Slavs came to the US, Fundamentalist Evangelical Protestantism ruled the day. Even the massive influx of Italians, Irish, and Poles, who were Roman Catholic, didn't do much to attenuate the puritanical environment."

"A friend of mine from London says that America received the religious exiles and Australia the criminals, and she feels that Australia got the better deal!"

"Having tangled with some Calvinists here, I have to agree with your friend, at least in a general way."

"Tangled? In what way?"

"A local pastor was prowling the Taft campus and decided it was a demonstration of God's love to harass and berate my gay friends. It became unbearable, and I stepped up to confront him and his gang, and that resulted in me challenging him to debate. I mopped the floor with him!"

Kris laughed, "With you being a catechist and deacon, I'm not surprised!"

"That was before my ordination to the diaconate. That pastor went to some sort of Bible college, but somehow missed the most important lesson — God is love."

"Where was this debate held?"

"On the Taft campus, and arranged by Student Government. My professor friend was the faculty sponsor. You'll meet Subdeacon Mark and his wife Alyssa, who are former members of that pastor's church, and who came to Saint Michael as a result of that debate. Her parents joined, as well, and we've had some others over the past few years."

"Like that group who joined the Arabs?"

"Yes, but not in anything like those numbers. I'm curious, but why the OCA and not ROCOR?"

"My parents prefer a larger parish, and they also feel ROCOR in the US focuses too much on being anti-communist."

"That's true, but my grandfather is an outspoken anti-communist, despite being OCA."

"Out of curiosity, is he a Democrat or Republican?"

"A Democrat, though, as with the rest of the family, he voted for Reagan, mostly because Carter and Mondale were horrible choices, and because of Reagan's staunch anti-communism. I'm going to guess your parents and grandparents were anti-Bolshevik, not anti-communist."

"Good guess!"

"Not a difficult guess, given you said your grandparents were supporters of the Socialist Revolutionary Party! And your parents and you being members of the «Parti socialiste». What do you think will happen with Russia?"

"My parents expect the government to collapse in the not too distant future, most likely after some external event, probably in Poland. There is simply no possibility of a military response like the ones in 1956 in Hungary and in 1968 in Prague."

"I wish I had your parents' optimism about 'no possibility'," I replied. "My fear is that the CPSU would prefer to destroy the world rather than yield power."

"That is a fear, of course, but I think Sting was right in his song Russians. Do you know it?"

"Yes. I have The Dream of the Blue Turtles LP. I love how he incorporated the Prokofiev piece. And I hope what he sang is true:"

"That is my prayer, as I'm sure it is yours."

"It is."

We arrived at the church, and the parking lot was already about half-full. I expected the nave to be packed to the point where we risked violating the occupancy limits, which had been imposed not long after the terrible fire at the Beverly Hills Supper Club near Cincinnati in 1977. We had, I knew, on occasion, gone past those limits, for the Unction service on Wednesday evening of Holy Week and for Pascha, and nobody had counted then, nor would they count tonight.

Kris and I got out of my Mustang and I got Rachel from her car seat. The Korolyovs parked next to us, and when they got out of their car, the six of us walked to the churchyard, paused briefly at Elizaveta's grave which was covered with flowers provided by the women of the church, then went into the church building.

"His Grace would like to see you briefly," Subdeacon Mark said as soon as we entered the narthex. "He's in Father Nicholas' office."

"Just me? Or Kris as well?"

"The two of you. Alyssa will take Rachel."

I nodded and handed Rachel to Alyssa, excused us to the Korolyovs, then led Kris to Father Nicholas' office.

"Come in, Michael," Vladyka JOHN said when he saw me at the door.

"Master, bless!" I requested.

"The blessings of the Lord be upon you, Michael and Kristina."

We each cupped our hands, over which the bishop made the sign of the cross, pausing after each blessing so we could kiss his hand, which was done out of love and respect. I shut the door, and the bishop invited us to sit, which we did after he took his seat.

"First, is there anything you wish to say during the service?"

"Serafima offered to give the eulogy," I replied. "And I accepted."

"I was aware of that from Father Nicholas, but I wanted to check to see if you wanted to say anything."

"No."

"I would like you to recite Psalm 50, if you're up to it."

That was the very last thing in the service, and would precede the eulogy which Serafima would give. I felt I could keep my composure, so I agreed to do it.

"I am," I replied.

"Very good. How are you two progressing with your plans?"

"I spoke with Father Luke," Kris said, "and we're meeting with him on Sunday. My mom is going to speak to Mike's mom after the service to make the arrangements for the reception."

"Good," the bishop said with a knowing smile. "Have you chosen sponsors?"

"No," I replied. "We haven't discussed that as yet."

"You'll obviously need to do that in the next week."

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," I replied. "And gain Father Luke's blessing."

"Good. Who knows, so far?"

"Our families and closest friends. I was going to ask Father Nicholas to make an announcement on Sunday, and I expect Father Luke will as well."

"Yes, he will," Kris replied.

"Michael, did you confirm your schedule for June?"

"I cleared it with Doctor Roth. I'll clear it with Doctor Gibbs on Monday. There shouldn't be any trouble. I'll also speak to Doctor Getty about the Monday following the crowning."

"Good. Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Your prayers," I replied.

"Always, Michael. You are constantly in my prayers. And you, Kristina."

"Thank you, Vladyka," we both said.

"I'll see you in the nave in about ten minutes, then," His Grace said.

We stood, received his blessing, then went to the nave. I chose a spot close to where Serafima, Elias, and Alyssa were standing. Mark wasn't with them, as he'd be assisting the bishop during the service. Alyssa handed Rachel to me, and we stood quietly as the nave continued to fill with my friends, family, and parishioners.

Among others, I saw Doctor Gibbs and Bobby, Doctors Smith and Forsberg, 'Ghost' and Oksana, and Doctor Strong. When Jocelyn and Gene arrived, they came to stand near us, as did Tasha and Chris. My parents, grandparents, and Liz and Paul arrived, along with a number of people from Holy Transfiguration. The nave was full, with people standing shoulder-to-shoulder, all there to honor the memory of my Kitten.

About two minutes after my family arrived, Vladyka JOHN entered, and moved to the center of the nave, near a table on which the koliva had been placed, along with a cross and a picture of Elizaveta.

"Blessed is our God always, now and ever, and unto ages of ages," Vladyka JOHN intoned to begin the panikhída service.

The bishop, the choir, the chanters, and the congregation followed the prescribed pattern of prayers, hymns, and scripture readings. After the hymns of the canon, I brought the service to a conclusion by chanting Psalm 50.

As soon as I finished, Serafima moved to the front of the church, standing just before the solea and began her eulogy for Elizaveta.

"My best friend was born on April 20, 1969, and I don't recall a time when I didn't know her..."

She went on to describe growing up together, with vignettes of their lives, bringing time forward to the day Elizaveta had approached me after Vespers.

"One evening, after Vespers, when she was fifteen, my best friend told me she planned to marry then Subdeacon Michael. I laughed, because it seemed to be a fantasy, but she made it happen, much to my surprise, though I suspect no one was more surprised than Mike!"

"True!" I said aloud, causing everyone in the nave, including the bishop, to laugh.

"My friend wanted nothing more from life than to marry, have children, and raise a family, and I hope Mike will forgive me, but Rachel's birth was the epitome of Elizaveta's joy."

It was mine as well, so I had no objection to what Serafima had said.

"We all joined her in that joy, which was sadly fleeting, for only a few hours later, on August 26, 1987, Elizaveta reposed, and joined the congregation of saints worshiping in the throne room of God. She left behind a grieving husband, grieving friends, and a lovely daughter who is with us today, but who will never know her mother, except in the stories we tell. And that is the point of the hymn we're about to sing — to never forget my friend, Mike's wife, Rachel's mother, Viktor and Yulia's daughter, and Joe and Geno's sister. May Matushka Elizaveta's memory be eternal."

The congregation sang 'May her memory be eternal' three times, and then the bishop blessed the koliva. Once that had been completed, everyone approached the table to kiss the cross and Elizaveta's picture, and to receive some of the koliva in a small paper cup, which was one of the rare things which could be eaten in the nave.

Once that was completed, Rachel and I, along with Elizaveta's parents, moved to the doors to the narthex to receive the greetings and condolences from everyone as they filed out. Most everyone went to the parish hall for the reception, and after the last worshiper had left the nave, Viktor, Yulia, Rachel, and I joined them.

Fortunately, with so many friends in attendance, nobody took special note of Kris, or if they did, chose not to say anything. Oksana knew, of course, as did a few others, but they wouldn't say anything before a public announcement was made. I juggled Rachel and got some food from the table, then went over to Serafima, who was sitting with John Elias in her arms.

"That was beautiful," I said. "Thank you."

"You have no idea how difficult it was to do that without crying."

"You had me teared up," I replied. "Fortunately, I have Psalm 50 memorized, so I was more or less on autopilot, but it caused me to feel as if I was going to choke up as I recited it. I'm glad it was before the eulogy."

"When is the announcement?" she asked quietly.

"Sunday," I replied. "I'll be at the Cathedral with Kris, but Father Nicholas will make the announcement."

"OK. I'm happy for you, Mike. And I think Elizaveta would be as well. She never wanted anything except the best for you, and to make you happy."

"And she did," I replied, a tear running down my cheek.

Elias put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. I smiled, then went to sit with Kris, who was sitting with my friends.

"How are you doing, Mik?" Jocelyn asked.

"I'm OK. I was prepared, and fortunately, Serafima volunteered to give the eulogy."

"That was beautiful," Jocelyn said. "It's clear how close they were."

"Best friends from the time they were toddlers, so they beat us by around three years."

"Interestingly, I approached you in kindergarten, Clarissa approached you at Taft, and Elizaveta approached you at church. Your strongest bonds formed from girls who took the initiative."

"Including Angie," I replied.

"She was here," Clarissa said. "But she and her mom left the minute we finished singing Memory Eternal."

"Angie is easily overstimulated," I said. "And I'd rather have her leave than need drugs."

"Hi, Mike," Sheila said, coming up to us.

"Hi," I replied. "Thanks for coming."

"Sorry I didn't greet you after the service, but Mikey needed a clean diaper, so I snuck out once I had my koliva."

"No apology necessary."

"Mikey?" Liz smirked. "SO fitting!"

"Watch it, Lizard Breath!" I warned playfully.

"She uses mouthwash," Paul said with a grin, "for which I'm eternally grateful!"

"PAUL REYNOLDS!" my sister growled, causing everyone to laugh.

"Lizard Breath?" Kris asked.

"A play on her name," Jocelyn responded. "They used 'Mikey' and 'Lizard Breath' to annoy each other growing up. Now they are terms of endearment. I believe Sheila named her son after Mike."

"I did," Sheila replied. "I hadn't picked out a name, and then this amazing medical student showed up when I was in what seemed like eternal labor! He has the best bedside manner!"

"I agree!" Elaine said. "He helped me through a really difficult time! My strong advice? Do not have a baby at fifteen, but if you have to, have Mike there to care for you!"

"If I deliver a baby in the future, something has gone terribly wrong!" I declared.

"Which is basically your job description in the future!" Peter declared. "That's what trauma docs do for a living! If nothing goes terribly wrong, people don't show up in the Emergency Department!"

"Oh yes they do!" I replied. "Word about EMTALA is spreading, and people are coming to the ED rather than trying to see a primary care physician because we can't even mention costs before we've examined and treated the patient, and we're required to treat any condition. Well, the law doesn't say that, exactly, but it works out that way because of malpractice and liability insurance."

"What do you mean?" Gene asked.

"Ask your soon-to-be ambulance-chaser wife!" I chuckled.

"Hey!" Jocelyn protested. "No need to be mean! I don't plan to be a malpractice attorney! But what Mike means is, that the way the law is written, there really isn't a choice but to treat everyone who shows up in the Emergency Department because the law grants a personal cause of action against the hospitals and doctors for basically any bad outcome if an exam was not done or treatment wasn't provided."