Appreciations

My aunt Mrs. Margaret Perera passed away in November last year at the ripe age of two months short of 97 years. She was my late mother's sister. Born in 1911 to the well known Wijesuriya family in Mahawila, Panadura, she was the third in a large family of three boys and five girls. In terms of personality, capability and resourcefulness she was the most outstanding female member of the family.

My aunt married K.A. Albert Perera, the proprietor of the well known bakery and confectionery establishment, Perera and Sons Ltd., in 1931. It was a happy and colourful married life with considerable foreign travel at a time when overseas journeys were somewhat rare.

She was very loyal to her husband and even when she disagreed on a particular issue, supported the stand taken by him. They called each other "wasthuwa", meaning treasure, which became a matter of great amusement among friends and relatives with some of them referring to her by this term of endearment. They were an extremely close knit couple and attended to social and religious matters together, as well as family events. On one occasion someone seeing her husband without her had remarked, "Albert you look lost without her. You are not complete without her." Her husband was fond of repeating this story many a time, I am told.

The Pereras at that time (1940 to 1968) had a considerable number of friends including well-known doctors such as Dr. P.R. Anthonis, the late Dr. Noel Welikala and the late Dr. G.R. Handy. She made use of her friendship with them to help relatives and friends suffering from various ailments.

Her association with her doctor friends was so close that she herself had the ability to prescribe remedies for common ailments. Some 40 years ago, when I had a severe back pain, she told me to take a painkiller called Butasolidin. Later when Dr. Handy asked me what I was taking for the back pain, I replied that I was taking this tablet as suggested by my aunt and that I was feeling a little better. Excellent diagnosis, he said, and told me to continue with that drug.

My aunt, affectionately called Margie, had a very high sense of social obligation and took great pains to fulfil such duties as attending funerals, visiting the sick and participating in weddings and religious engagements. She was known to many well known people including Presidents, Prime Ministers, Ministers and top professionals. Yet she had the humility to move freely with the less fortunate members of her extended family and friends.

A standard joke in the family circles was her strong inclination to attend the funerals not only of those known to her but the family members of those people. In one instance, when she was asked why she attended a funeral she said that the deceased was a close relative of a relative of her son-in-law, but we later came to know that the son-in-law himself had not attended that funeral. However, it must be said that not only her attendance at funerals but her presence sometimes more than once during the funeral period was most appreciated by the people concerned.

Her husband the late K.A. Albert Perera passed away in 1968 at the age of 71 but she survived for 38 years thereafter. All the members of the Wijesuriya family had long lifespans generally exceeding 75 years and some surpassed 90. She sometimes joked that whatever the Wijesuriyas may have lacked they certainly enjoyed long life.

After the death of their husbands, many widows get into a shell. They are unable to lead the life they lived with their husbands and find it difficult to stand on their own feet. But my aunt was made of sterner stuff. She continued with her social life and was invited to many social activities such as weddings, birthday parties and other events as well as religious events.

I became close to my aunt especially in the latter part of our lives. Although there was an age disparity of around 25 years we talked on many occasions of cabbages and kings. In 1967, I built a house on a land sold to me by my uncle Albert situated close to his residence. This facilitated our close association and many were the times she came to my home for a friendly chat. If I was about to leave to buy something for dinner I would inquire whether she would accompany me and she would gladly do so. After the death of my mother in 1990, I treated her as my mother and even before that her children sometimes referred to me as her adopted son.

Apart from the loss of her husband, my aunt faced another tragedy in the death of her only son and the youngest of her children, Sarath Kodagoda, a very active member of the Sinhalese Sports Club, at the comparatively young age of 55 in 1997. She did not usually reveal her true emotions and faced this great loss with courage and fortitude.

She led a simple life and was fortunate not to face any financial difficulties. She was well looked after by her children who knowing her fondness for getting about placed a vehicle and a driver at her disposal. During the latter years her memory faded to some extent. However, she had no serious aversion to this disability. Often when given a message by telephone she would frankly admit that her memory is poor and request that the message be given to another in the household.

In her last days she was confined to home and later to bed. During that time I visited her almost daily and sat by her bedside. When I generally inquired about her condition in her last days, she always replied, "I am alright". But on the last occasion I did so she said, "I do not feel so good" and a few hours later she was dead. She was fortunate to pass away peacefully in her own house and on her own bed (shared earlier with her husband and later only by her over a long period of time) without the indignity of tubes, oxygen supplies and other paraphernalia to prolong her life deprived of the previous colour and activity.

May this grand and gracious lady, always helpful and considerate and loved by many, realize early the supreme bliss of Nibbana.

She lived her long life helping many