A life well-lived: Honouring Paraskevoula “Loula” (Christodoulou) Kosti 28 May 1942 – 22 A
Source: NEOS KOSMOS
Where does one start in finding the words to describe a life – any life? I’m finding words to describe my mum, Paraskevoula (Loula) but I will not do her justice. However on behalf of dad, James, my two younger brothers, Peter and Chris, their wives, Maria and Sophia, mum’s six grandchildren, and her brother and sister, Sam and Mary, I’m giving it my best.
Years ago, while I was at university, mum would sit at the kitchen table with me as I completed assignments often into the early hours of the morning to meet the next day’s deadline. After the day she died it was no different – this time, it was our family seated around the table reflecting on mum.
Born in Renmark, mum was the first child of Kostantinos (Kosta) and Panagiota (Barbara) Christodoulou who arrived in Adelaide from Cyprus in 1929, and 1936 respectively. They met and married.
Living on a farm in Lyrup, mum survived whooping cough and later polio against all odds. Her brother Sam was born three years later, and her sister Mary a decade later by which time the family had permanently moved to Adelaide. My grandparents owned cafes and delis including Gouger Fish Caf and the Sunshine Café.
While her parents worked night and day, mum and uncle Sam would each take a shilling and be babysat by the movie theatres watching the new Greek movies and the now timeless musicals. As young adults, they became active members of the ‘Younger Set’.
Many of their generation remember the dances and events where lifelong friendships and memories were forged amongst the young Hellenes of Adelaide at Olympic Hall and Franklin Street Church. One of the many messages we received was, ‘Loula was the big sister to Mary and Sam, but also to John Svigos, John Castle and Peter Pap, with her devastating smile’.
Living in Sturt Street then Anzac Highway, mum finished her secondary education and moved into Accounts at Peoples Department Store before moving to Genders, Wilson, Bray and Abbott lawyers – working as an accounts and rounds clerk. She loved the court work, the bolshiness and style of the trailblazing female lawyers, and the camaraderie of the legal world.
She left this work to marry dad and move to Sydney almost exactly 55 years ago, where Peter and I were born. From Sydney, we moved to Broken Hill where dad completed his internship as a General Practitioner.
My parents made friendships that endured the decades. We spent the next 15 years taking long family drives back and forth to Sydney and Broken Hill to catch up with these friends and of course, mum’s uncle in Sydney.
With the move to Adelaide in the mid-1970s, mum met partners of other doctors and together they pioneered the career path and formal education for practice managers.
My brother Chris came along and we moved to what became the family home for over four decades.
Mum continued to manage dad’s practice but found time to volunteer, learn to line and ballroom dance, have lunch with the girls from the Independent Arts Foundation, and whip up gourmet spreads no matter the time of day or night.
In the mid-1980s she owned a fashion boutique, Mouchi, where women of all ages and sizes came for her impeccable eye. They left feeling good. She knew the influence that a beautiful environment and tailored clothing could have – so she was always impeccably dressed and demonstrated patience throughout our various fashion phases.
Mum always put family first. She had a face that would attract strangers from blocks away, and in the next hour they would have shared their life story. In Coober Pedy, while filling up the car, mum struck up a conversation with the proprietors. By the end of the conversation, mum had been asked to be their son’s godmother.
In 2006, her vocation as a yiayia began. First came William Demetrios, then Paraskevi (or Pallas), then Pares and Ella, followed by Melia and Samuel.
I asked them for their memories of yiayia. An endless supply of jelly beans; cups of English breakfast tea with two sugars and Yo-Yo biscuits; playing hide and seek; singing nursery rhymes until they fell asleep. They felt safe and loved, fulfilled.
“The nicest woman I’ve ever known”, “She always spoiled us – filling a trolley with toys then sitting with us at home and playing with us”, they said.
She was generous, selfless and compassionate, never had a bad word to say about anyone, taking care of us as she encouraged us to take care of each other. Our friends would say she always had an ear, whatever the topic.
Mum made people feel at home, a second mum to our friends and the almost 20 children we grew up with in our street. As Father Nick wrote, “She was a beautiful lady inside and out with a beautiful smile”.
She remained close to her faith. For herself, with the aid of St Paraskevi, mum was able to regain her sight after complications of cataract surgery. ‘Always pray’, she said. In her final weeks, some of the last words she spoke to me were, “How can I help you, Connie?”.
At the viewing, still beautiful, however her once busy hands were now still. Mum did much for us, urging υπομονή, patience, and wishing us good health.
As she would say at the end of her phone calls, ‘ό,τι ‘πoθείς. Whatever you desire.
Καλό Παράδεισο mum, good heaven.
Connie Kosti is an active member of the South Australian Greek community, and a contributor to Neos Kosmos
The original article: belongs to NEOS KOSMOS .
