Tribute to my Iron Lady!
"To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour." — William Blake, Auguries of Innocence (c. 1803)
On October 19th, during a business dinner in the lovely city of Montreal, my phone inside my suit jacket vibrated. I took a quick peek and saw my cousin Jan’s name splashed across the screen. My heart sank. I knew it!
I’m in the early stages of grieving with rawness at my fingertips as I write this panegyric in admiration of a great lady. Dunes of emotions dominate my psyche somewhere between profound sadness and stunned silence. I could easily exhaust adjectives to describe my feelings — since the passing of Ranji, an acca (sister) I never had. Not even the lapse of time will numb how horrible I currently feel.
Living many thousands of miles apart, sharing the same maternal grandmother, and having a decade of years between us, my first-cousin Ranji and I were never that initially close. But in my early twenties, I got to know the incredible woman well. My earliest memory of acca was her visit to the home I shared with my mother (her aunt), in Toronto. She was the epitome of style, strength and grace personified. A gentle warrior! Years following that we became extremely close and fostered a very strong relationship and bond over our shared love of fine wine, food and banter. We met many times in Toronto, Vancouver and Sydney — as she quickly became my surrogate sister. Her infectious laughter healed many disappointing moments of my life.
Eyes often reveal a great deal about a person. She had an expression full of kindness and compassion but exuded confidence, intellect and determination. I drew inspiration from her. I was always delighted by her gentleness and earnest gaze. She generously shared the same kindness with my wife Sue and my son Aaron, to which I am forever grateful.
Now that her soul has departed to the celestial planes to walk with her ancestors, our shared activities in their loving and tender nature play in my mind like a slideshow. It is déjà vu played backwards and I am nostalgic for a past I shared with her — and; can’t quite let go yet. Fleeting memories I try desperately to recall. Our conversations are a constant noise in my ears — like an echo I no longer hear but swear I will never forget.
The most a person can say about his or her life is, “I was here! I mattered!” Well, goodness knows, Ranji was here. And she mattered. Her last text to me was on September 25th which read, “I love you, little bro.” Acca, you were an amiable steamroller and a giant in a small frame. Rest up my iron lady, now, you belong to the ages.
I applaud you, I salute you, and I love you!