Visiting Santorini was a dream that both haunted and beckoned me. This picturesque island, with its iconic sunsets and azure waters, was the destination my sister longed to visit for her 60th birthday—a dream she was never able to realize after a sudden and tragic brain aneurysm took her from us nearly six years ago. For a long time, the thought of coming here filled me with a profound sense of guilt. How could I enjoy a place she so desperately wanted to see?
As my journey to Greece unfolded, emotions ran high. Each breathtaking view seemed to whisper her name, reminding me of the joy she would have felt here. Yet, beneath the surface, there was another layer of grief—my parents, who also never made it to this enchanting land. They would have marveled at the beauty of Santorini, their eyes reflecting the deep blue of the Aegean Sea.
The Search for a Church
Determined to honor my sister’s dream, I set out to find a church where I could light a candle for her. My heart was heavy with memories and unspoken words when I walked through Santorini’s narrow, winding streets. As I approached a small, whitewashed church, its simplicity and serenity drew me in. It was a place untouched by the bustle of tourists, offering a tranquil space for contemplation and remembrance.
The Act of Lighting the Candle
Inside, the quiet was profound, broken only by the flickering of candles casting gentle shadows on the walls. I lit a candle for my sister, the flame a symbol of her spirit, enduring and bright. In that moment, the weight of my guilt lifted slightly, replaced by a sense of connection and peace. This simple act of lighting a candle became a bridge between us, transcending time and distance.
Reflections on Family
As the candle burned, I reflected not only on my sister’s unfulfilled dream but also on the life and love she left behind. Her absence was palpable, yet in this sacred space, I felt closer to her than I had in years. Here, in the heart of Santorini, I found a way to honor her memory and embrace the beauty she never had the chance to see.
The journey to Santorini also stirred thoughts of my parents. I imagined their awe and delight at the island’s splendor, and how they would have cherished this experience. Although they never made it here, in lighting the candle, I felt as though I was carrying a piece of them with me, fulfilling their unspoken wish to witness such beauty.
The Journey of Healing
Leaving the church, a gentle breeze caressed my face, carrying with it a whisper of solace. Though the journey had been one of grief and longing, it was also a journey of healing. Lighting the candle was not just an act of remembrance; it was a step toward releasing the guilt and embracing the love that remains.
In Santorini, amidst its timeless beauty, I found a way to honor my sister’s dream and cherish the memories of those I’ve lost. It was a journey that reminded me that while dreams may go unfulfilled, the love we carry is eternal, lighting our path through the darkest of times.
