Remembering Gladys Morais who joined the angels Nov 8, 2015.

Your grandchildren, Zubin and Sheela Jane, sing the Malayalam hymn you taught them. And we sing it now to your great-grandchild.

It’s been four years since you crossed over to join the angels, but you still feel very present in our lives.

Beef cutlets–almost as my mother made them.

I’m sure you walk beside me as I talk to my plants. I still see you in my mind’s eye, pottering among yours, starting a vegetable patch in one corner of the garden where spinach and other greens grew abundantly. There you are, overseeing the harvesting of bananas, and sending us out to share bunches of them with the neighbors.

In the kitchen, I sense your mentoring eye and replay your instructions in my head as I cook. Your granddaughters say they too feel your presence as they cook the kind of dishes you made for them.  Among many gifts–faith and loving kindness above all– you left us the example of how to put a hearty, tasty meal on the table on every occasion. The readiness to set another place for an unexpected visitor was an essential ingredient.

So grateful my mother did not leave me behind in Trivandrum, Kerala, where I was born, despite the entreaties of my grandmother.

Today I tried to reproduce the scrumptious beef cutlets you made so well and so often for us, at one feast after another. I’m sorry to report that they just don’t come out quite the way you  made them. I think you’d give me a C+ at best!  But, I’ll keep practising! Ditto the pork vindaloo I attempted a couple of weeks ago. It just lacked the fire and color yours always had. But again, I will keep trying. The book of your favorite recipes is stained with spices–and possibly a few tears…..

Watching from your perch in heaven, you helped ensure a healthy pregnancy for your beloved grandson’s wife, and was the guardian angel we most counted on to usher in a safe landing for your newest great-grandchild–Ara Victor Menon on the June solstice this year.  Zubin’s beloved Papa must be pleased he is remembered every time we address His Chubby Highness (HCH), Zubin and Ani’s first born, who carries his name.

My mother, Gladys Morais, cradles my son, Zubin, in her arms, 36 years ago.

As I cuddle my new grandson, I am reminded of all that you did for my children. The love and care you lavished so abundantly on them.  No matter how often I thanked you, I am sure I did not thank you enough, because you did so much– and then some. But now I can do as you did, and give the newest addition to the family some measure of what you gave your grandchildren.

I am still getting used to the idea that I am a grandmother. I am grateful to be able to walk in your footsteps, and I catch myself ever so often sounding just like you! Rest in peace, gentle heart. And keep watching over us.