PASSING OF PARENTS, CHARITIES

IN 1980, MY PARENTS VISITED US FROM INDIA FOR A FEW months. As is always done when parents come to visit, we used the chance to travel. I chose to visit the north-west part of the US, and even British Columbia on the Canadian west coast. They were able to see how we lived in our adopted land. Both were very proud of what we had accomplished and how we lived.

My mother couldn't believe how we threw away plastic milk bottles. She made an effort to wash them and put them on the shelf. Many items that we normally disposed of were eminently recyclable for her. She brought a new perspective on recycling, way before recycling as we see today has become part of our life.

A few months after my parents returned to India, my mother developed jaundice. Her illness went on for many months as she was not responding to any treatment. So she was taken to Lisie Hospital, Kochi where the treatment continued for a few more months. The doctors were puzzled and decided to conduct an exploratory surgery. During the surgery, they found out that her bile ducts were blocked due to cancer of the liver and pancreas. There was nothing much they could do except bypass the blocked bile ducts.

Once the surgery was done, the doctors informed us that she might live only for another six months. It was decided that my mother should not be informed about this prognosis. To everyone's surprise, including her doctors, she lived for another five years. In the middle of 1985, she started losing weight and she knew something was seriously going wrong with her body. She finally asked my father what was going on. He had no option but to tell her everything.

She was upset that her family had kept such critical information about her a secret. My mother was a strong person. She had molded us to be strong like her. Whenever I called her from the US, she took care never to talk about her illness or complain about her failing health. During that time, one of my cousins who visited her called me from India and told me it was time to visit my mother without any delay. It was a 'do it sooner than later'kind of message.

So in November, I traveled home and decided to spend some time with her and celebrate her 60th birthday. I spent three weeks with her. We talked about many things about us and our families. Each day, she had many visitors. Even though she was weak, she would come out, sit in an easy chair' in the living room and welcome all her visitors. Many were there to sympathize with her but she refused to heed their sympathy.

She told them that she had a good life and if it was her time, she was ready to go. Her confidence and faith was uplifting for everyone who visited her. We had a nice cake for her birthday. A few days later it was time for me to return to the US. It was the hardest goodbye that I ever bid, as I was not sure of seeing her again. As I was sitting in the back seat of my taxi to the airport, I looked through the rear window, I could see my mother slowly move towards the front door, with tears welling up in her eyes. We both knew that this was the last time we would see each other, though nothing was said openly. I could not stop crying while being driven to the airport. In February 1986 my mother passed away.

The next summer, my father visited us in Seattle. By this time we had moved to a bigger house because many of my family members were already there and my house was their temporary base till they moved to their apartments. During one of my trips for a family reunion meeting in Philadelphia, I was sitting next to my father during the flight. We had a long discussion of the last few days of my mother which I could never forget.

My father recalled that he was sitting next to her bed, my mother said two persons were standing near her feet asking her to go with them. She asked for his permission to go. As any loving husband, he said no as he didn't want to lose her. My mother was in a lot of pain. Again, a short time later, she asked my father's permission to go. This time he said yes. A few minutes later she passed away. Hearing this story being narrated by my father, my faith in God and the reality of an afterlife was reinforced in me.

By 1989, Aero Controls was doing very well. Deep down in my heart, I felt I needed to do more charities as I had been blessed with a business enterprise that was doing quite well. Also, I wanted to contribute more to cancer research since my mother succumbed to this terrible disease.

Around that time, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Institute in Seattle had started doing pioneering work in bone marrow transplants. Dr Donald Thomas, who had just won the Nobel Prize was well theater, an indoor swimming pool, an outdoor tennis court and a large garage that could accommodate four cars.

I wanted the house dedication done by my father's classmate who was the much adored and widely respected Bishop of Mar Thoma church, Bishop Philipose Mar Chrysostom. Thirumeni as he was commonly addressed was renowned for his great sense of humor and widely respected by all, regardless of religion. Chrysostom Thirumeni was then the diocesan bishop of the Mar Thoma Diocese of North America and it was his practice to visit many churches during the summer months. He always made a point to come and stay with our family in the last week before his return to India.

Honoring my wish, my father requested Chrysostom Thirumeni to preside over the blessing of my dream home. He accepted the invitation and agreed to do the blessing. We invited all our friends and family members to the housewarming service. Nearly 200 people attended the function, by no means a small number for a house blessing service in Kent, Washington. My father and bishop spent time together reminiscing their young days back home.

In August 1991, Chrysostom Thirumeni shared with me his plans to spend a few days, right after the Mar Thoma Family Conference in Florida, which we too had attended. After Thirumeni's visit, we were planning to travel to Kerala to attend my youngest sister Leena's wedding. When we returned from Florida, my father-in-law picked us up from the airport and took us to his house for dinner. As we were having dinner, my father-in-law received a phone call from India informing us that my father had an accident and passed away.
My father had a passion for motorbikes, which had started during his military years. My mother was totally against my father riding a motorbike. Once my mother passed away, he decided to get a moped. This was his pride and joy. He used to visit many of his relatives and friends riding the moped. Many had advised me not to let my father ride the moped but the truth was that I didn't have the heart to do that as such a decision would have significantly diminished his happiness.

Once we heard about the tragic accident, we decided to head back to Kerala immediately for the funeral. All our family members were already there for my sister's wedding. I had to say goodbye to my father and that was followed by a wedding two weeks later. It all happened too soon.

I had much time to prepare for my mother's passing. But my father left me unexpectedly, giving me little time to be prepared. Perhaps, that is what he would have always wanted, having gone through the prolonged heartache and pain of my mother's protracted illness. But there was no such time to prepare for my father's pass-ing. All my grieving had to be done after he had passed. Having witnessed the sorrow caused by my mother's prolonged illness, I'm certain my father would have chosen no other way to leave us.

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