Skip to main content

Always Loved, Never Forgotten, Forever Missed

Mum's Jasmine plant blooms abundantly, as ever.

Sixty-four years ago today my mother's beloved elder brother Victor passed away after a fall from a tree, just three months shy of his twentieth birthday.

It was a tragedy that marked my mother's life in so many ways. It was the first time she had encountered a profound loss in her life. As a young child, she had to grapple with the harshness of the loss and the impact it had on her family. Her elder brother was a shining light of love and kindness. He was a protector, a comedian and a proud son. His presence filled up a room. Victor's passing created an immense and irreplaceable void. My grandparents Pastor M. Benjamin and Victoriamma bravely carried on but their hearts never recovered from the loss of their precious son—their firstborn. In 2009, my mother lovingly recounted some of her earliest recollections of her charming and enigmatic older brother.

It brings my family a measure of comfort to know that our beloved Susee Mable, her parents and loving elder brother Victor are at long last together again. RIP. You are always remembered.

October 24, 1932 - July 24, 1952

Popular posts from this blog

The Woman Who Raised Me

    Susee in Chilukuru, Andhra Pradesh (1981) I had the most pure, loving and beautiful mother. She was my best friend, my shining light, my first love, my baby girl and my hero. Mummy was filled with kindness, laughter, prayer and goodness. She was as fun-loving as she was solemn and wise. She gave everything to my family: kept us healthy, safe, confident and happy. I’ve always appreciated my mother for all these qualities and for so much more. But to lose her prematurely to devastating illnesses forced me into deeper reflection. I’m surprised that such a courageous and loving person ever existed and that she was my mother. She was selflessness and unconditional love personified. From the baby girl born in Narendrapuram to the woman she grew into: Mum always knew who she was. She was unwavering in her faith, lived as humbly as she did honourably and saw the best in everyone. Bullies may have tormented her but she never bowed down to them. She had the courage to face them, f...

What God Wants from You

God is very kind and loving to those who trust and believe in Him. What does God want from you? Psalm 15 explores that very question: Psalm 15 (King James Version) Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the LORD. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved. God loves those who go to church to worship Him. He loves those who go to sacred places to praise Him. And God loves those who strive to do the right thing always. So when you see a person who is good, smart, God-fearing and honest and who is one that everyone likes, then you mus...

“Trust. Let go. Enjoy the ride”

Circa 1979, Berrien Springs, Michigan     “Trust. Let go. Enjoy the ride” In the days following her passing I dreamed of mom repeatedly. Most of the dreams were of her miraculous return home, where our family would care for her until she was fully healed,—the joy shattered by waking into reality. These dreams haunted me for months, the narratives changing slightly each time adding to my pain and anxiety. The following November, I dreamed that I was in a bookstore in the early evening, the darkness had settled in as I searched for something to pique my curiosity. I was about to pick up a book when I noticed a large window peering out toward a busy intersection. A woman had walked up to cross the street carrying packages of Christmas gifts. When she turned I caught a glimpse of her unmistakable profile. It was mom as she had been when I was five, wearing that dark green winter coat, the coat I would look for as she’d pick me up from kindergarten. I called out “mom” and she turne...