Today, I was reminded once again just how bad I am at keeping in touch with people. I found out that my friend and godfather, Romanos, passed away back in October. October! I'd even been thinking about him recently, thinking about how I hadn't seen much from him on Facebook or his blogs for a long time. So when Barbara mentioned his passing, I was shocked.I met Romanos back in 2010 at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church, where he was volunteering during their annual Greek festival. We spent a lot of time talking that day, and we eventually became friends, talking (and sometimes arguing) about religion, philosophy, politics, you name it. He was a unique person to say the least, and I never quite figured him out; but he was genuinely kind and smart and caring. He loved to talk, but he was also a good listener when he needed to be.
What I appreciated the most about him, though, was his approach to spirituality. It was contemplative and loving and it really spoke to me. I really enjoyed our discussions. Because of him, I started to see something good in everyone. Our long talks gave me plenty to think about, and he truly got my spirituality. He gave me a couple of books that really piqued my interest in contemplative Christianity, an interest that eventually led me to spend a week at a nearby Trappist monastery. And from there, I soon discovered the wonderful community at St. Philip Neri.
With his help, I'd found my own spiritual home, a warm, welcoming community with a strong interest in social justice and a contemplative foundation. And when I decided to be formally initiated into the community, I asked Romanos to be my sponsor and godfather even though he was Orthodox and the community I was joining was Catholic. But labels never really mattered to Romanos, and he followed his heart regardless of what people thought about his religious and political views or the company he kept.
He was my friend even though he disagreed with my politics. He was my friend when I called myself a Buddhist. He was my friend when I called myself a Catholic Buddhist. And he remained my friend when I simply saw myself as a contemplative socialist of various stripes, deeply ecumenical and outspoken on progressive social issues.
We'd often go months without speaking, and during that time, I was going through a lot of changes. New job. New place. New relationship. I guess I was just too wrapped up in my own world to notice the Facebook post his son made about his passing. I regret not being at the funeral to say goodbye, but I'm consoled by the fact that I knew such a strange and wonderful character at all.
Everlasting be your memory, my brother, who are worthy of blessedness and eternal memory.
