This is a story about my grandmother and my grandfather.
My grandmother was a housewife but also a fortune teller. She could read the coffee grains and tell your fortune in the cards. My grandfather was a con artist playing cards (of course cheating), backgammon or whatever job he could find. She was from a small village in Greece called Astakos and he was from Piraeus, a big city in Greece. We used to spend a lot of time together and their lives are full of moments and small stories. World War 2, how they met, how my grandmother taught me to read the cards, how my grandfather used to play a game of puppets to make me laugh, how my grandmother used to tell me stories and fairy-tales and my grandfather only knew one fairy tale and kept repeating the same one again and again.
But there is on moment in their lives that has stuck with me. It amazed me as a child and as a grown up I think it’s one of the sweetest things a couple can do. They used to go to bed around 10 or 11 o clock. And they both used to wake up, no alarm clocks, nothing, at 2 or 3 o clock in the morning, they used to have a coffee and a piece of walnut cake my grandmother used to make, chit-chat a bit and then go back to sleep.
I don’t know how it begun or why but I remember them doing it my whole life. And when my grandfather died my grandmother used to do the exact routine on her own but with a photo of him in the coffee table.
So sometimes when I am awake at this time of the night I can’t help but thinking about them and what they did and just wondering if the main reason I am awake is because myself secretly has chosen this time of the day, so meaningful and sweet for them, like a small secret, to remember them and all the time we spent together.