Susee Mable's Silent Meditations

The Home Team: Pamula Daniel, Anil (Anibob), Susee (Chanty), Victoriamma, Suha (Chelly) and Pastor M. Benjamin On May 20, 1941 in Narendrapuram , Andhra Pradesh India—our beloved Susee Mable (Chanty) was born. May 20th was as blessed a day for her parents Pastor M. Benjamin and Victoriamma, as it was for Dad, Anil and me. Mum blessed us with her radiant light and unconditional love and remains, as ever, the centre of our family and world. What did we ever do to deserve her? I'm not sure but am so grateful to have loved her and been loved by her and to know that our love still endures. Happy birthday darling Mummy. Love you forever. Posted by: Suhasini

Posted by: Suhasini

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...

Susee Mable (Chanty) May 20, 1941 - April 13, 2015  One year on. RIP beloved angel. Always remembered and cherished. Forever, Pamula, Anil and Suha

Posted by Suhasini

Lutheran Transfiguration Church, Bhimavaram, August 2, 1971 Dining out circa mid-1980s 43rd Anniversary: August 2, 2014 (See more pics here )  Posted by Raju

First memory: Yellow flowers in a bed of ice crystals: brown eyes, the closeness and full volume of love, the dewy sweet breath of summer, your face eclipsing the sun. I paced the room quietly, mind racing and heart pounding as images emerged like stills in a vintage projector, a Kodachrome of bright colors and grainy transitions, a lifetime of memories playing out simultaneously: picnicking by the Rideau Canal, camping up at Keswick, Christmases, first days of school, first days of summer, sitting in waiting rooms, waking from surgeries, drinking tea, delicious fish curries, a pristinely white nursing uniform, the cold bite of winter on her cheek, warm hugs and kisses, collectively, a full and complete celebration of life, every moment recorded by memory, magnified and savored, sacred with meaning. That night when I called for an ambulance, I knew in my heart that mom wouldn’t be coming back home. The dispatcher kept me on the line for forty-five minutes assessing the ...