Nostos : Fri Jul 12, 2024

Two Widows

 ἔνθ᾽ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες … οἴκοι ἔσαν …

τὸν δ᾽οἶον νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικός

When all the others … were home …

he alone still yearning for his homecoming and his wife

(Odyssey 1.11—13, translation mine)

Dear Friends:

Professor D. G.’s wife died suddenly this past May — Memorial Day, to be exact. So while I was grilling New York strip steaks and hot dogs at my mother-in-law’s house on Heck Avenue in Ocean Grove, Professor D. G. was losing his beloved bride of five decades in their home in Illinois. He emailed me at that time to let me know, signing his email, “Love, D.” 

This morning he walked into Odyssey.

His noble white hair towering above our packed-out coffeehouse, the retired professor of mathematics, eyes red and swelling and filled with months of yearning, caught me in his gaze, and from over the counter pleaded, “Give me a hug.”

This is a man — and a genius at that — who does not shake hands, let alone give and take hugs. Yet he is demanding that I hug him. I immediately intuit that something beautiful is happening here. We’ve known each other for five years, and we’ve never touched (though we’ve shared ideas, and our minds are close).

I rushed around the counter and wrapped him in my arms, his 6’4” head on my shoulders. “You give the best hugs,” he whispered, though we had never hugged before and we were surrounded by 13 cramped customers in line for coffee and the first real rain storm of July outside.

Homer sings to me, friends: νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικός, and I know D. G. is a man, yearning for his homecoming and his wife. And through Homer, and through Odyssey, and through the rain, Matthew sings, too: μακάριοι οἱ πενθοῦντες ὅτι αὐτοὶ παρακληθήσονται. If I give you part of the translation of that line, can you finish the rest? Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be …

Today, also, the Thornley Chapel and Riptide kids sang for the Bible Hour adults in the Tabernacle.

One week ago, J. E.’s husband died of cancer, but she still came to Odyssey for her cappuccino, chocolate chip cookie, and quiche. “Joey, I’m a widow now” is how she introduced herself to me on Tuesday. J. E. is a woman, yearning for her homecoming and her husband. μακάριοι οἱ πενθοῦντες…

The Ladies Auxiliary’s famous annual book sale is this weekend.

And this summer, for the first time since 1869, the Ocean Grove Camp Meeting Association, which designed Ocean Grove as a place apart, is compelled to open the beach on Sundays before noon or to pay a $25,000 fine (whom this pecuniary punishment would benefit is unclear). If only the mortal human beings who corralled the attorneys and scratched around for the money to bring the lawsuit in the first place cared about going to the beach on Sundays at, say, 9:30am — let alone true rest for weary human souls.

As of this morning, I have the completed architectural plans for Odyssey Coffee’s new space at 63 Main Avenue in hand, and we will submit them to the municipal zoning and building officials next week. Why?

Because Professor D. G. and widow J. E. and the Thornley kiddos and the Riptide kiddos and the Ladies Auxiliary volunteers and all the humans who walk the earth need a place to get away from the noise. A place that feels like a refuge by the sea. And a place that feels like a homecoming.

To that end we work.

~ Joey