Appreciations
View(s):Ashmore Atapattu
A spectacular sunset: He lived his life his way
The Delhi sun was setting when I boarded a plane to return to Colombo the day after Ashmore died. I thought it was symbolic because about 15 hours before that, the sun had set on the life of a giant of a man.
A week later I caught an even more spectacular sunset. This time it was as rich and full a sunset as I have ever seen. As I reflected on the symbolism of this sunset, I felt it captured the essence of Ashmore’s life: lots of vibrant oranges, some angry reds, and a wonderful afterglow.
Ashmore’s life was a life of vibrant oranges, angry reds, and now a special afterglow. His heart was as full and vibrant as the setting sun and this made him the person he was. He had a passionate love for life, a passionate love for his family and friends, and a deep commitment and love for his profession.
One of my first visions of him was in his traditional bow tie and suit, almost 35 years ago. I received a gentle nod, more a nod of acknowledgement than a nod of approval at that time. This first impression was to become a lasting impression, of a man with an impeccable taste of dress, an impeccable taste for life and a giant on life’s stage.
Ashmore was blessed and privileged to belong to a profession that brought life into this world. I guess all medical doctors are privileged, but Ashmore more so, because he helped nurture life and then helped to bring that life into this world. It was a calling and a vocation of which he was intensely proud. He worked in the state sector for many years serving disadvantaged and poorer communities in different parts of the country and spoke with great passion of his work in those areas. When he left the state after well over 30 years of service, he flew to the West Indies and took that same intense Attapattu passion to his work in Barbados, both as a teacher in the university and as a practitioner.
In 1996, when Sri Lanka won the World Cup, he was in Bridgetown. And he made it to the front pages of the newspapers there waving proudly the Sri Lankan flag in celebration. We were fortunate to visit as a family and experience a slice of his life there, again another phase of his life, of which he was intensely proud. I remember one incident when Sriyan and I wanted to hear a Caribbean brass band perform and he would rather show us off to his colleagues at a dinner. No prizes for guessing who won the evening. The brass band never happened!
I had two long conversations with him on Christmas day last year. The first at his place, the second was at ours. While we crunched on ham and cheese at his place, which we did every year, and scraped our ham into the last dregs of the mustard, he talked long about his values, his family life, his life as a student at St. Joseph’s and his life as a medical student. He was proud of the hardships he endured as a young student, including the train journeys he made to St. Joseph’s from his family home, and the sacrifices his parents made for him. The mustard of course, was ‘one of a kind’, a mustard that only he could make, and it symbolised the man: pungent, strong and with a wonderful aftertaste.
At home that evening, amidst the babble and banter of a large family Christmas dinner, we spoke long about his work and mine. He told me how he had always been busy all his life and now found that there was so much time hanging on his hands, which he found difficult to handle. I told him that he should write about his professional life, but he said he was not motivated. He joked, ‘I am now ready to go. I have done my bit and am ready to depart’. I walked with him to his wine red Nissan that night, knowing full well he was not in a position to drive, but dared not raise the question, ‘should I get you a taxi?’
There were also a lot of angry reds in Ashmore’s life (apart from the red Nissans he drove). The Ashmore I knew was a fighter. He fought with his family, his friends, and his peers. But he fought because he believed in his ideas, he believed in his principles and he believed in his values. To him, life was to be lived his way, and sometimes this rigidity of thought would create tensions and raise a few hackles among friends and family.
It was this blend of the passionate oranges of his life and the angry reds, which made him unique and the giant that he was. The passion and zest for life, the passion and love for family and friends, and the passion and commitment to his profession blended well with the reds of a strong temper, a steadfast belief in his way of life and his principles, and sometimes an infuriating obstinacy to his ideas.It was one vibrant and powerful package and you had to take it all, or not at all, and as family, we gladly took it all.
He was passionate about life, family and his work. At the same time he was passionate about dogs. The canine kind occupied a special place in his life and he would often remind us about who a ‘man’s best friend’ was.
The sun has set on a unique life and what remains is a special afterglow of a man who was close to us and many others. Our faith, however, tells us that there is life in death and it is this new dawn that we must embrace and walk into. I have no doubt he has stepped into that new dawn and lit that dawn with his fire and commitment. It was a privilege to have known him and an even greater privilege to have married into the family he created.
Today as we give thanks and celebrate the life of a giant of a man, we bask in the warm afterglow he left. Like all mortals, he had his imperfections and his flaws. Yet he was a man who lived life to the fullest, a man who served the poor, a man who lived life as he saw it, and a man who, in the words of the Sinatra classic, did it HIS way. He was a man, who like some of the spectacular sunsets we have seen in our lives, left us with lots of warm memories and lots to think about in life.
Mario
Felicia Weerakoon
She cared and lived for elders
The world fell apart for so many of us on the fourth of February when a beloved friend left without so much as a goodbye. Her life was like a shooting star that brought so much joy to so many while she lived.
Felicia was an epitome of kindness and generosity. She was the chairperson of the Ladies Committee of the Elders’ Home, Kandy Friend-in-Need Society. She took upon herself this responsibility after the demise of her husband Dr. Prem Weerakoon who practically converted the “hellhole” as it was described in the yester decades to a successfully inhabitable elders’ home.
It is with a sense of loss and sadness that we, her friends in the committee, feel that the guiding force of the Elders’ Home is no more. The selfless service rendered for decades will be remembered by all who worked with her. Her dedication stretched so far that she spent more time with the much needy senior citizens than her home itself. She managed the Elders’ Home successfully and ensured that every cent received as donations was accounted for. She was the type of leader who guided us more with love than authority. We always knew that we could fall back on her for advice, be it our social-work lives or our personal ones. A replacement is unimaginable and finding someone to match her efficiency and dedication will certainly be difficult.
It was not only the people at the Elders’ Home that were helped, but anyone who knocked on her door was generously taken care of. The list never ends. She took upon every role this earthly world demands of us and carried out her duties with grace. She succeeded as a leader, a mother, a social worker and also a good practising Buddhist. She helped in the welfare of the bhikkus who in return loved and respected her like a mother.
As a mother, she was only the best with her children Janaka, Ravi and Deepthi. There is no doubt as to how much they will miss her as will her brothers and sisters who loved her equally. She will always be the light in their hearts and the many others whose lives she has touched.
You will be remembered with gratitude and love by all of us who knew you. We will always miss you and forever wonder why you left us so suddenly. May your journey in samsara end with this life and may you attain the supreme bliss of nibbana.
Your friends:
Mirani Liyanage
Asoki Upasena
Chandrika de Silva
Sumathi Gunaratnan
Padmini Angunawela
Amara Kulugammana
Srikanthi Weerasinghe
Prof A.V.Suraweera
A loving father
Soft steps and innocent eyes might have attracted a purple flower.
The purple flower was admirable to you.
The beauty of a flower, a chirp of a wild bird, greenness of a garden were things which calmed your life.
Long hours of thinking made silent conclusions of strength.
Careful watching and listening might have seen the world better.
You were a flower with so much of beauty. Your heart was soft as a flower and blossomed beautifully for good humour.
You, spoke, listened and watched people.
In trouble you were like a hard black stone and never regretted what you had done,
In difficulties you were like a great wall providing protection.
In disagreement you were silent.
In agreement your face brightened.
The purple flower was waving in the breeze.
You have shown me how to overcome barriers with kindness and courage.
You are no more, but your gentleness is buried deep in my heart.
You gave no chance to repay what you have given me.
My heart is weeping and there is a vacuum in my life that nobody can fill.
But we were fortunate enough to at least to be with you upto this point.
Did I realise this after I lost you?
Isn’t it painful to lose you?
Where are you?
Wherever you are, may you be a star that enlightens people and a purple flower which brings happiness and beauty.
I met you for a moment which I never knew was the last.
Did I realise that I would not see you again?
Did you prove the impermanence of life?
But permanent memories of love!
Prof . Priyadarshika Hettiarachchi
Rev. Canon Padmasiri Bhareti
On your birthday, we miss you so
My heart still aches in sadness,
My silent tears still flow
What it meant to lose you
No one will ever know.
Thinking of you and missing you,
On this, your special day.
And wishing I’d said all the things.
I never got to say.
Because it seemed I took your love for granted,
that I know I only wish I’d told you then
How much I loved you so.
And since you’ve gone I miss you so,
And I now realize what I had
A parent with a heart of gold
The world’s most special “Thaththi”
Dearest Thaththi, to hear your voice,
and see your smile and just to sit and talk to you,
Would be my dearest wish today,
on this, your Birthday.
Love you forever.
- Podi Duwa Mali