The lessons my father taught me

Sometimes it seems like everyone knew my father better than I did. I was so young when he was killed that I don't have years of memories to look back on. He was a public person and his memory has become public property. I can't count how many times I've run into strangers and have them tell me their story of when they met him.

My earliest memory of my father is of him teaching me to say the Gathas. One gatha in particular stands out as it is, for me, what my father wished for Sri Lanka. ‘May all beings be free of sadness, free of disease, free of poverty and may they find peace’.

Whenever he was home early enough to tuck me into bed we would say this simple prayer before I went to sleep. I know that during his time on earth he did his best to try and move us closer to this ideal.I have to admit that most of my memories of my father have a similar theme of him teaching me about one thing or another. He was a born teacher. I loved to hear the stories of Sri Lanka's great kings and learn about rubber and coconut trees as I followed him on walks around the family estate.

My mother would always complain that when Thaththi was taking my Sinhala lessons that I would be learning almost nothing about Sinhala grammar and a lot about every other topic on earth, which didn't really help when it came to exam time.

Still it was by far my favourite way of learning things. I think this was probably the most wonderful thing about my father. He knew that education didn't just mean a degree, it was the collection of knowledge. He saw being educated as a way forward for everyone because knowledge takes away ignorance and fear.

Because of my father's position in the government I was lucky enough to meet a lot of very well known people. I have to admit that I always felt more intimidated than excited to meet them and I never seemed to take away much from the experience.

The older I get the more I have come to understand that this is because my father never let it be a big deal. People are people with their own problems and flaws.

Yet he taught me that every person I come across should be treated with the same respect, no matter what their social standing may be.

It was hard for my mother to bring me up alone after Thaththi had been killed but I think she did pretty well. She always had her family and close friends to help. Even with his death he taught me something.

I learnt that power is fleeting, that no true joy can come from it. He was always a good teacher and I hope that being his daughter I will keep the lessons he taught me.