RIP S.K. Harihareswara

[brainwane]

My father died on Thursday night of a massive heart attack. He'd just had dinner and was washing his hands when he slumped against the wall. He died very quickly in my mother's arms. He was 74.

I'm in India now, alternately engaging with and hiding from the constant flow of people and food and emotion. I saw his corpse yesterday. Tomorrow we'll start going to orphanages and retirement homes to feed people in memory of my dad. That's what he wanted in lieu of the standard prayer rituals.

In the coming weeks and months I expect I'll write a lot about my family. Right now I just wanted to tell you what's up. Your condolences are welcome in comments, emails, or instant messages. But I especially encourage you to comment with happy memories of your own family -- or, if you have none of those or none that you want to share, happy memories of any sort.

(cross-posted from my blog)

Comments

[yasaman]

I'm so sorry for your loss. Wishing you strength to deal with the coming days, I know the immediate arrangements and services can be really draining.

Random happy family memory, inspired by the fact that we're coming up on Ramadan: when most of my family still lived in the same city, we would go to my grandparents' house during Ramadan for iftar with my parents, and all of my maternal aunts and uncles would be there. The food would be spread across two tables, and the house would be full of laughter and talking, with people eating at every available seat or seated on every bit of free space on the ground. I'd be looking after my little cousin Edris, still a baby then, and the TV would be on with something like Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune playing. Those nights are an enduring memory of safety and comfort and happiness for me.