When my father passed away in 2017, I was faced with a dilemma experienced by many Diasporans: should I preserve my ancestral footprint by claiming inheritance to family property in Greece?

After years of fact-finding, investigative research, and a hefty amount of internal debate, I’ve come to realize the answer is dependent on navigating both the emotional and practical facets of this age-old question. The following article will serve as part one of a two-part series addressing the complexities of land endowment in Greece.

Now for a quick dose of family history. My paternal grandparents immigrated to the United States from Kythira, Greece, a ruggedly beautiful island south of the Peloponnese known for its rocky green mountains, stunning waterfalls, idyllic beaches, and miles of hiking trails that wind through hidden springs. It is also believed to be the birthplace of Aphrodite, according to ancient myth.

My father’s abrupt passing in 2017 revealed the existence of a will he had written, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, assigning certain pieces of property to his surviving children. I was set to inherit a portion of my Yiayia’s dowry property, or προίκα. Although considered to be small and non-arable, the land did include a grove of olive trees and a small shepherd’s hut steeped in sentimental value. Family legend held that the hut served as a temporary sanctuary for my Pappou, where he waited, pacing, restless, during my Yiayia’s long labor for their firstborn. The words “still waiting” remain etched on the structure’s interior walls to this day.

Visiting my Yiayia’s dowry property has become an annual family tradition.

Naturally, I felt a strong urge to claim inheritance of the land, despite its negligible fiscal worth. And therein lies the emotional weight of my decision – a decision that so many other Greeks in the Diaspora have pondered before me. If I were to disclaim my inheritance, wouldn’t it mark the symbolic end of a cherished family legacy that has been passed down through generations?

I knew, also, that I was not the only interested party. As it so often happens with the exchange of familial assets, relatives I never knew existed began to come out of the woodwork. Before long, a theory surfaced claiming that my father’s will was something between a suggestion and a fabrication.

This theory persisted even though I had obtained legal proof of my father’s ownership and maintenance of the property over the years. It forced me to consider the very real possibility that I was destined to engage in a long – and ultimately fruitless – legal battle over something that was meant to honor my family, not divide it.

A host of difficult questions dogged me for weeks as I wrestled with what to do. At the core of my dilemma was a single, pressing question: “Is there any integrity in fighting with relatives to preserve family memories?” I was not interested in authoring my own Greek tragedy. Ultimately, I employed an objective cost-benefit approach to cut through an otherwise unmitigable situation. Accepting my inheritance became much more feasible after consulting with several Greek attorneys based in Athens and Kythira. They gave me a detailed – albeit complex – road map for executing my father’s will. Those individual steps will be covered in Part Two of this article, which will simplify the legal advice I wish I had known at the outset. For now, however, I can offer one more piece of advice: it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Tackle this process with the patience and endurance of a long-distance runner. You can take heart in knowing that although the road is long, the finish line will lead you home.