He spoke and he was gone
We needed the last words of Greece’s two-time Olympic tae kwon do silver medalist Alexandros Nikolaidis. Shortly before he died of a rare form of cancer, at the age of 42, he wanted to write a legacy text, without a trace of bitterness or vindictiveness, without a hint of drama or bombast. Only magnanimity and generosity. Despite his suffering for two years, he considered himself lucky “on this difficult journey,” because he had “as his companion the solidarity and care of so many people.” He said he felt lucky for one more reason: because in his life, overall, “he was blessed to make his dreams come true.”
In recent days, the taste of our defeat, as a society, has tainted everything we see or read. A defeat of the institution of the family and the protection of children, with politicians attempting to take advantage of a girl’s torment.
On Friday morning, Alexandros Nikolaidis made sure to fill the void of his absence with hope. To soothe our multiple wounds with his words, to open passages in the impasses, to signal a ceasefire for a while – but only for a while. Only for the few moments of surprise that his post created. When it was time for the politicians to comment on his passing, political toxicity returned with a vengeance. Several social media users claimed the deceased as “their own,” and posted comments of the type: “How dare you, the vile opponents, mourn him too.” He may have been an active member of main opposition SYRIZA, but in his last message he gave a nod to all sides. He talked about what unites us and not about what divides us.
Nikolaidis’ contribution – and that of anyone else who has the strength to bear the burden of one’s own demise by leaving a public testament of a better tomorrow – is immeasurable. “My friends,” he wrote to friends and acquaintances, “in this life where we are all transient, it matters more what mark we leave, not how or when we leave.” He spoke and he was gone.
The trace he left will be covered up by the successive layers of the news cycle, but it will not be lost. This trace doesn’t repeat itself, but its feeling returns.
