Appreciations
View(s):Victoreen Hassan
A loving, caring wife
It is with a sense of deep sadness that I write about my loving wife Victoreen. Six years have passed since I lost the light of my life. We married on October 8, 1968 and spent a happy and peaceful wedded life for almost 40 long years with fun, laughter and joy. She passed away peacefully on August 25, 2008 after a brief illness.
Victoreen was loving, caring and was the greatest blessing in my life. She brought love like I had never known. We prayed together as one from the first day we got married until her untimely death. She gave life to our children and when I needed hope and inspiration she was always strong. We loved each other so dearly and it broke my heart to lose her. Now life is so lonesome without her.
Vicky, precious memories are all that you have left for me, no more will I see the love shine in your eyes.
I remember the tender words, your smile and the loving things you used to say. Every morning and every evening and every night we thanked our lucky stars we found each other. Hand in hand we faced tomorrow with no fears. Dearest Vicky, my heart is shattered and all the words can offer no relief. I remember not what I did for you but I remember what I was for you. There isn’t a day that passes without you being remembered. We met, we loved and lived a joyful life and now physically separated knowing that we will meet some day is my only comfort. My undying love for you is there till that glorious day. I cherish all the love you gave me and thank God for the gift of your life. I know you are by my side guiding and protecting me.
Finally thank you Victoreen for the wonderful and generous, sacrifices you made for me and our children and all the loving care and affection you showered on me. Thank you for loving me and for being what you were.
The only consolation is that you are now in God’s hands.
Sadly missed by your loving husband.
-M. Kamil A. Hassan
Manon Muttukumaru
Remembering a great mother
My beloved mother Manon Muttukumaru peacefully left us to be with the Lord on July 26 at the age of 92. I will really miss her.
I am grateful to my dear brother Amrit for standing by me during the last critical months of our mother’s life and especially during the last four weeks at Durdans Hospital. We were together with our mother. I am also grateful to my wife Candace (Candy) for all that she did and has done for my mother during the last several years and especially during the last four weeks of mum’s life.
Sister Barbara, an incredible Apostolic Carmel nun, and a dear relative Jessa, were such a blessing to my mum during her last days. I am also grateful to the consulting physician Dr. Bandula Wijesiriwardena for treating our mother for the last several years. A week ago when he told my wife and me that my mother had only 24 to 48 hours left, our hearts sank and both of us slept in the hospital room with the attendant. It is so sad to see a mother dying and taking her last breath on this earth. I was also with my father, the late Emmanuel Muttukumaru, when he passed away in 1976 at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, USA. I watched him leave us.
The singer Mike Rutherford told us in the hit song “The Living Years”, “I wasn’t there that morning when my father passed away; I wish I could have told him all the things I had to say…It’s too late when we die…..”.
I am so glad that I was there the morning when my mother passed away. I did get to whisper into her ear all the things I had to say, especially; “I love you Mum and thank you for everything you did for me”. I think she heard me. I hope she did.
My mother was the daughter of the late Mudaliyar Arasaratnam of Kalpitiya. Her mother, died at the age of 30. My grandmother’s sister was married to the late Sir Chittampalam Gardiner who took over the guardianship of my mum and her siblings and raised them.
In 1941, she married my father, the late Emmanuel Muttukumaru, a lawyer who was invited to serve in the UN in 1960. Among his dear friends who served with him were the late Tarzie Vittachi and the late Andrew Joseph. When he left us in 1976, he headed the UN World Food Program in India. My mother was by my Dad’s side throughout his life, from his early professional years as a lawyer, and when he served as Chairman of the Chilaw Negombo Planters’ Association, and on the Boards of the Ceylon Oils and Fats Corporation, Ceylon Coconut Board and with R. H. De Mel at the Coconut Research Institute. The UN spotted him when he led the Ceylon delegation to a UN/FAO conference overseas and was elected Chairman of the conference.
My mum was a Bridgetian, an avid Bridge player and an active member of the Women’s International Club in Colombo 7 and St Anthony’s Church in Colpetty. She was a terrific wife, mother, mother-in-law, aunt, grandmother and great grandmother. There is a big hole in my heart. I will always miss her. I know the entire family will miss her. Rest with our Lord now Mum.
-Gerard Dilhan Muttukumaru
Dr. A.G. Abeywickrema
An exemplary doctor and kind human being
My uncle, Dr. A.G. Abeywickrema (MBBS, DCH) was one of that special breed of doctors for whom the jewel in the crown was the love and respect of his patients and his peers. An exemplary doctor and kind human being, he was a great advertisement for the traditional values in the medical profession.
Having served Sri Lanka in many provinces as a District Medical Officer he later specialised as a paediatrician. His patients adored him and many of the parents of the children looked after by him often opted to continue with him as their doctor way beyond the paediatric years. He retired from government service as the Consultant paediatrician in Gampaha but such was the demand for him there that he had to conduct regular clinics there for many years even after his retirement, even despite failing health. It was not unusual for his clients to pay him social visits, long after he had given up his practice.
His father, D.D. Abeywickrema of Morawaka, was an entrepreneur who had some training in Ayurveda but never practised it as such. However, it was his mother, Dona Ceciliana, ‘Veda Haaminey’ who doubled up as a village physician and veterinarian who was to have the most profound influence on his life. He always credited his mother for his exceptional communication skills and holistic approach to medicine.
He had his early education at Morawaka Maha Vidyalaya and Rahula Vidyalaya, Matara. One of his teachers at Rahula who saw the potential in the young Abeywickrema took him by train one day to meet Mr. P. de S. Kularatne, the then Principal of Ananda College, who promptly accepted him into that school, where he studied until he gained entrance to the Medical College.
He had a wonderful sense of humour. Remarkably, it did not betray him until his very last days. Our childhood holidays to his ancestral home were raucous affairs, with him taking a lead role in the hilarious banter that I remember them for.
He was a regular contributor to the popular newspaper column “This is My Island” hosted by the legendary Amitha Abeysekera, writing under the pen name of Aegee. Many of the stories that he contributed to this were based on his experiences during travel by public transport, which he had to do regularly during his tenure as a doctor in far away places. One that is etched in my mind was a story about an elegantly dressed lady with an elaborate hair-do who was seated ahead of him in the bus. Now, this was a time when Parker pens were considered precious items and lo and behold, there was one hanging from this lady’s elaborate hair-do!!! When a fellow passenger plucked up the courage to point this out to the lady she denied any knowledge of it but hilariously, nobody on the bus claimed ownership of it either. The lady therefore took possession of her unexpected ornament. My uncle claimed he wished for similar luck on every occasion he travelled by bus, but luck was never on his side and in his own words, he “never even found a ball-point pen, let alone a Parker!!!
In this day and age when husbands are allowed in labour rooms he claimed he might have been the first to do so in Sri Lanka. He gave permission for the local Member of Parliament to be present during his wife’s confinement but this was one labour that did not go to plan. He received a call from an exasperated midwife informing him that the MP was occupying the labour bed, near comatose in a state of inebriation. They were finding it difficult to wake him up!!! The MPs daughter who was born on the day was later to become my uncle’s friend.
It would be fair to say that he influenced my choice of career in a major way. As a young lad I was deeply impressed by his demeanor and the respect he received from all. I wanted to emulate him. Also, by a happy coincidence, I was born on the day of his convocation.
His communication skills were exemplary. I recall an incident when I joined him on one of his ward rounds when he was working as the Paediatrican at the Chilaw Hospital, when I was a fourth year medical student. I still recall how he explained to a mother about the problem her child had with her kidneys. He drew sketches to explain the malady to the mother and until then, I had never seen anyone do that. He was way ahead of his time.
He was an extremely fortunate man. He had a wonderful wife, Elaine whom he met and married during his internship in Ratnapura. They were blessed with three daughters to whom he was a dedicated father. His wife predeceased him, but his daughters took care of him lovingly from then on.
He cared deeply about what he did for his patients. Unsurprisingly, he was greatly admired by his patients and within our family. We were all proud of him.
To me personally, he was a great friend, a great uncle and ever the man for the underdog. Many of us were able to confide in him and he always gave sensible advice, often based on commonsense, advising patience and forbearance in situations where they seemed impossible.
A letter he wrote to me during one of the most trying times in my life remains one of my precious possessions. Written with great care on his manual typewriter, he ended his letter quoting the great World War II General Irwin Rommel – “great Generals are not those who do not make mistakes, but the ones who make the best of their mistakes”.
Indeed, what a man!!
-Prof. Hemantha Senanayake
Francis (fred) Amarasinghe
Thank you Jesus for our ‘Walking Miracle’
When someone near and dear to your heart is called to rest, the grief alone blinds you with unbearable pain. We all try to move on and live the life our loved one would have always wanted us to live. This is an incredibly difficult task, yet it must be done.
We too lost the most important person in our lives and it almost felt as if our existence ceased on the day he was called to rest. However, when we reflected on the gift of life given by God, we found that we were fortunate to have been blessed with a ‘Walking Miracle’.
Our father, Francis Ravindra Amarasinghe (fondly known as ‘Fred’) was born on October 23, 1950. There was nothing he missed as a schoolboy at Royal College Colombo. He was the national discus throw champion while still a schoolboy and a member of the Sri Lankan athletics team. His talents were recognised in school as he was appointed Athletics Captain, House Captain, Cadet Corps Sergeant Major and was awarded athletics colours, rugby football colours and his discus throw record lasted more than 30 years in school. Finally, he was appointed Head Prefect.
Thaththi pursued a career in planting. He was extremely passionate about his work and he had a special connection with the hill country. In 1981 Thaththi and Ammi were married and over the years, the three of us came along.
In 1993, Thaththi was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer of the blood. Doctors felt the diagnosis was too late and treatment may not succeed. We children were then 11, 7 and 5 respectively. Thaththi and Ammi flew to the United Kingdom for treatment. During their stay in UK he sent us postcards (often carrying our favourite cartoon characters) assuring us that everything was okay and they would be home soon.
Later, Thaththi was told that the treatment given thus far was not successful and his only hope was a bone marrow transplant. This was the point we realized what a precious friend and relative Thaththi was to many. Friends and relatives worked tirelessly to ensure immediate medical attention was provided. To date, we are grateful to all our father’s friends and many relatives for being there with our family during a time we really needed help.
Back then we were too small to realise the gravity of the situation and it was our mother who had to drive the entire family along. We now know that it was not an easy task but how she managed us all.
Thaththi’s transplant, done at the Apollo Specialty Care Hospital in Chennai, India was the very first bone marrow transplant done in the hospital and to the amazement of all Doctors, he fought the disease well and the transplant was a success.
Within three months Thaththi was back at work. We grew up knowing that he was a cancer patient but never knowing what sort of pain he had to bear. There were many instances where we would almost forget that Thaththi was sick because he did everything to ensure that our lives were normal and everything was just fine.
Thaththi derived his strength from God. He kept his Bible in his bedside cupboard and every morning by 4.30 a.m., he would be up to read the word of God while we were yet asleep. He would always chant, “Jesus, I trust in thee”.
The past 21 years flowed by with good days, bad days and sometimes traumatic days. He was up to date with all his medical records and became an expert on his condition. Never did we have to provide him any extra care. Truth be told, he took care of us all throughout our lives. Despite being under strong medication he worked tirelessly until the very last day he was too sick to work.
We knew that Thaththi only fought this disease for us and to ensure that we weren’t left helpless. He worked day and night to educate us and taught us to always follow our dreams. Thanks to Thaththi’s willpower and perseverance we are today three professionals qualified in the fields of hospitality, engineering and law.
When we were too emotional to move on with our lives, we discovered the diary Thaththi wrote while he was in India for his second transplant in 2010. He had written, “God give me strength. There is a frame, there is a body but very little life in it. Only prayer and meditation is keeping me going. ‘You are my defender and you are my protector, you are my God, in you I trust’ I chant away till I fall asleep.” Each day he continued to write the same, “You are my defender and You are my Protector, You are my God in You I Trust”.
Thaththi, you showed us how to love God and never lose hope. Never did you lose faith in God. Even when you were sick, you conducted the family rosary.
Thaththi also wrote the following in his diary, “In the night I was wondering what good I would have done to get such a fantastic response for the appeal for the health fund. No Answer! – I suppose it is all God’s Plan and Will. There is no getting over the fact that my implicit faith in God has paid dividends.” We can’t imagine the pain you were going through Thaththi and never did you share it with us. We promise to continue to thank and praise Almighty God each dawning day just like you did.
We want everyone to know that you were our ‘Walking Miracle’. We are so sorry that you had to go through such pain to make sure that we all had good lives. Yet, you never wanted anything for yourself. You rarely bought any material item for yourself and you were always happy with what you had. We were your priority and your needs were never important.
The three of us did our best to make you proud Thaththi, but we are sad that we couldn’t give you a good life in return for all you did for us.
Thank You Jesus for blessing us with the best Father we could ask for. It was only prayers and an undying faith in God that kept our father alive for 21 wonderful years and we are confident that prayers alone will empower us to move on with our lives and continue to make our father proud.
-Rajitha, Ravith and Ruwanthi
‘Tiny’ Reid
The gentle giant who was Tiny
“Tiny Butta Reid” as my father and brother called him, was my older brother Sanjiva’s closest and dearest friend and confidant, from their first day at school until his untimely demise on August 9th this year. This friendship with Tiny encompassed our entire family for nearly 60 years.
The youngest of the five legendary Reid brothers of cricketing fame, he was apparently “tiny” when he was born, and so the name stuck, even though he grew up to be taller than all his older siblings. Christened Johann Howard Reid, he was known as “Tiny” to all his friends and family throughout his life, even though he was a giant, not only in height, but in so many other, more important ways – his faith in God and the innate goodness of humanity, his integrity, his gentleness, his conduct, his courtesy and his courage.
My earliest memories go back to our childhood in my grandmother’s home, Lakmahal, which was open house to all, including Raki Jayawardena, Dennis Chanmugam and Tiny, to name a few. The former were two lovable pranksters, Tiny, always a gentleman. Those were carefree days – cricket matches on the front lawn, shinning up trees and drain pipes playing cops and robbers , and card games of 304 and Rummy around my grandmother’s old Bridge table during week-ends and school holidays. Raki and Dennis ALWAYS cheated, Tiny never! Sanjiva treated his tomboy sister hanging around as a real pest when his friends came to spend the day, but the kind-hearted ones like Tiny somehow managed to get me included in all the fun. It was much later, in my teenage years, that I appreciated the advantage of having an older brother whose closest friends were those handsome cricketing gods of the big school by the sea!Coming from a family of boys, I suspect he adopted me as his sister too, and continued to treat me as such throughout our lives, albeit somewhat more tactfully than my own brothers! Many are the memories – of Tiny and Sanjiva in their teens hitch- hiking to Hingurakgoda, to stay with our family friend Hope Todd, on their bikes dansala-hopping during Vesak year after year, shared revelry at successive New Year’s Eve parties, my mother and me helping Tiny to organise his 21st birthday party with the same enthusiasm we threw into organising Sanjiva’s.
Fairly soon after that, I remember Tiny being very sad to leave Sri Lanka when his family decided to migrate to Australia, but it was there that he met his wife Katy, another warm and exceptional human being, who became as close to our family as Tiny. I first met Katy when she and Tiny came to spend Christmas in Sri Lanka with Nivanka and Peisha, their twin daughters, whom my father named “the fawns” because they were as gentle and beautiful both inside and out, as their parents. I have memories of the fawns helping our toddler son, Ravi, and me to decorate the Christmas tree. In fact, Tiny was so much a part of our family that when Katy’s twin sister, Marnie (Marguerite), came to Sri Lanka to get married to her boyfriend Milroy (de Vos), Tiny, Katy and my mother, Mukta, arranged for me to be her bridesmaid, even though I had never met the bride before the wedding! And so another friendship was formed between the two extended families. When Sanjiva decided to emigrate from Sri Lanka, I strongly suspected that his decision to move to Melbourne in Australia was linked to Tiny and Katy already living there. It was both of them who helped Sanjiva and his wife, Chitra, first settle into their new home, where they have since lived happily for the last 18 years.
In recent years, after his daughters grew up, Tiny spent longer periods in Sri Lanka, enjoying the company of his extended family and various friends – former classmates, players of the various sports he had excelled in, church groups, colleagues from his counseling and outreach work and us at Lakmahal. Whenever he visited, his base in Sri Lanka was always Lakmahal. To my father, Sam, he was another son, who would sit on his bed and chat for hours, reminiscing about old times, dissecting a cricket match or discussing a subject of mutual interest. Tiny loved people and I always admired the infinite patience with which he would listen to others, a quality I have NEVER been able to acquire.
From what I hear, Tiny was the laidback one in their home, while Katy was the livewire, the proverbial loving and efficient wife and mother who ran their home with such care and concern, always finding time to help others as well. But later, when Katy was struck down by illness, Tiny took over and nursed her throughout, while providing a caring and nurturing home for his beloved daughters. He brought her to Sri Lanka again for a holiday a short while before she passed away, and I remember the care with which he saw to her every need. Although he was so lonely after Katy died, he picked up his life and made it one of service to others through his counselling work, for which he actually took the time and trouble to qualify academically and professionally as an adult student. When his own condition was diagnosed last September, he lived his last few months with the same faith, courage and dignity he had shown during Katy’s illness.
Tiny was not impressed by material possessions and high positions. He valued true goodness in his fellow human beings. He was a loving father and so very, very happy when both Nikki and Peisha found such wonderful life partners. Tiny just loved his two sons-in-law and spoke of them with such pride and affection. Of course those four paled into insignificance when his grandchildren arrived. The four grand children gave him so much joy in the last few years. All the loneliness he had suffered after Katy died faded away after they came into his life.
Tiny, although quiet and unassuming to a fault, was very astute about human nature. He was perceptive, but never judgmental. He treated everyone with kindness and great courtesy, a true gentleman with fine manners, who never raised his voice or used bad language. His integrity in all his dealings was impeccable. He was someone a friend could turn to for a calm listening ear, quiet counselling or sound advice. His steadfast Christian faith was a testimony to us all, especially his quiet, courageous and dignified acceptance of the inevitable end to his mortal life. It is we who remain who will continue to mourn the loss of a wonderful, caring and gentle giant of a friend and brother.
May he rest in peace in the nearer presence of God, his parents and his beloved Katy.
-Anila Dias Bandaranaike
(nee Wijesinha)