Monday, August 26, 2019
My sister, although only a few years older than me, took on the mantle of a caring mother through out my life, whether feeding me in the dormitory as a five year old or later, as I grew up. Memories of her playing with me in my dormitory days and correcting me in later life will always stay with me.
Fearing this day will one day come, I made it a routine to call her every Saturday at one pm. It was my last call to her when the son answered, instead, and said she’d just passed away.
I wish I had a few more calls, but she went the way she wanted. Murugiah. Brother.
