It gives me great pride to write a few lines on behalf of Nanga, Malla and myself about the most precious person in our lives – “Thaaththi.”
Thaaththi passed away peacefully at home, on Sunday, May 9, 2010. He had had a sudden heart attack. He was 59 years.
Nirmal Alfred Perera, known as “Nimma” to many, was the second son of the late Alfred and Queenie Perera of Kotte and the only brother of Ajit, whom Thaaththi truly looked up to. Thaaththi married Ammi on his birthday, April 25. They were to enjoy 35 years of blissful wedded life.
At his funeral, people recalled Thaaththi as someone who was full of life. “He generated so much life around us,” said one person. “Anyone who met Nimma once would always remember him,” said another.
It is hard to believe that Thaaththi is no longer around to advise us and laugh with us.
Malla and I were quite small when Thaaththi went abroad for a job. I remember him coming home for the holidays. These visits were unannounced and a pleasant surprise to everyone, including Ammi.
As Nanga was born nine years after me, it is Malla and I who remember the things that Thaaththi did for us, and the wonderful trips we went on. Of all our happy trips together, the ones we best remember were those we made to Akuressa, where we were warmly received by a relative who was a doctor.
There was one Akuressa trip when Thaaththi had this crazy idea of wrapping a towel around his head and pretending to be a very sick patient. He sat with the other patients waiting to meet the doctor. What a laugh we all had when the doctor discovered that his patient was none other than Nimma! That was one long weekend of endless fun.
I was a teen when Thaaththi returned home for good. He was a disciplinarian. I was not allowed to go to mixed parties, except for one: he dropped me off at the party at 6:30 p.m., half an hour before the party was supposed to start, and came and picked me up at 8:00 p.m! Thaaththi and Ammi also escorted me to one of my school dances.
Some years later, I went out with friends after work without telling Thaaththi. When I got back, he held me close to him and said, “Thank God you are home and that you are all right.” I said to myself, Never again will I go out without telling my father. He had a very caring way, like no one else I knew.
Looking back – as a mother of four (a girl and three boys) – I realise why Thaaththi was like that, and I am grateful that he was.
When Malla went overseas, Thaaththi missed his company a lot. They would keep in touch through Skype. Malla would play the guitar at that end and Thaaththi would sing along at this end. And they would chat for hours. Malla would confide everything in Thaaththi, be it cars, jobs or girls. Thaaththi never lost that special connection.
Nanga and Thaaththi were more like friends. They had a lot in common. He adored her, as she was the youngest. They would agree on most things, and on those rare occasions when they didn’t, they fought like cat and dog – only to patch up soon after.
He was very happy when Nanga got engaged to her sweetheart. It is heartbreaking to think he will not be there to walk with Nanga down the aisle to give her away as a bride. He would have cried like a baby.
Ammi was his world. Words cannot express the sadness she feels.
He loved and respected his mother-in-law. He loved her cooking, especially the pork curry they would make together. She depended on him to take her to Sunday mass, which he did to the very last.
He will be missed by all his nieces and nephews, especially his “three roses”, as he called them — Roshini, Shehani and Tehani.
Above all, Thaaththi loved to give, and that he did with all his heart. Once, long ago, he removed his wristwatch and gave it to someone who simply said it was “nice”. On another occasion, in a similar situation, when the family had gone to the hill country, he gave away his camera. He never told us to give, but we saw him doing it all the time, through the years.
He never spoke ill of anyone, and hated it when we did so. That is the legacy he has left to Malla, Nanga and me.
Thaaththi’s three-month memorial service was held in the beautiful Christ Church, in Kotte, amidst a gathering of family and friends, many of whom had known him long before we came on the scene.
During the thanksgiving service, my son sang “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” – a hymn Thaaththi loved. I was overwhelmed. I could see my son was taking after my father, and I was certain Thaaththi was listening as his grandson sang to him.
Thaaththi, thank you for all you were to us, for giving and loving with all your heart and for guiding us all the way. Till we meet again on that beautiful shore, we will continue to love you – more than we ever told you.
Michelle Jayatilleke |
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