Dear Dad,
Tomorrow this time last year (Tuesday 10th March 2020) would’ve been the day of your funeral. It would have been less than 2 weeks since you had left us! And boy was it a busy 2 weeks.
When we left the hospital on the Wednesday 26th February 2020 for the very last time, we got home late, then we got back to our house well after 2am.
I remember waking up about 7am, the children were getting ready to go to school. One by one I told them that they both had their very own personal guardian angel. I don’t think they actually digested it, for this was the first time they had lost someone so close to them. Dad, you always looked on the positive, so I told them, look at the positive you’ve got a few days off school! It didn’t actually work, they just looked at me, confused and not sure how or what they should feel!
Kawal called me about 8am that morning, she was the same as me, sitting in her house in limbo, not knowing what we should do next. Jason had a few things to sort out for work before we could leave, and the children were packing to stay at home for a few days. Me, just sat there watching the TV, but not watching nor listening. If I had I would’ve known about the upcoming pandemic we faced. We now realize how ‘lucky’ we are to have given you the farewell that so many thousands have missed out. For this we are ever so grateful beyond words can ever describe.
Less than 2 weeks later the whole of country, the world even had started to go into lockdown. But I couldn’t hear the news nor see the picture! I just sat there ! Earlier Kawal suggested I call someone. Jason’s parents were on holiday. I decided to call Jason’s Aunty. It was the first time I had said those words. ‘My dad died yesterday, he passed away’. I’ll never forget that ‘this is real’ feeling, it’s no longer a nightmare, but my reality.
Aunty came within 15 minutes, she looked after me, consoled me, told me the things I needed to hear, what a wonderful kind hearted person you are, your dad will always be your dad!
We eventually got home; I still call my childhood house – home that’ll never change.
Dad, I actually can’t remember what happened that day, all I know is we did what you would’ve wanted. Anybody that came to pay their respects to you, you wouldn’t want anyone to leave without eating or drinking. So that’s what we did, with the massive help and advice from the puji’s, we soon had (you’re gonna love this) a systematic system as you would have called it. For the next 13 days, friends and family were bringing so much food, people were asking if they could make something we actually had to tell people no! That there’s too much, we were so grateful with everyone’s generosity. We had kala cholay (black chickpea curry), Kudhi (yellow curry), daal (lentils), alloo matter (pea and potatoe curry), vegetable pasta, fresh salads, mitae chawl (sweet rice) and so many other dishes I can’t remember all of them! You’ll be pleased to know I rolled all of the rotis (chapattis), probably a good 1000 in those 13 days, if not more. We had people coming every day, we had 50-100 people come each day, some people I didn’t know who they were, friends you had made for the last 45 years working at your garage some before that from your BT days, some people recognised me from working in your workshop, some people came to say thank you for helping them. From about 10am to the last people leaving at 9pm or even 10pm nobody came without a story to tell about how they had met you or even one about you.
As the days went on, Jason and bubbly (Sharan) made the necessary arrangements for your funeral. I asked mum if we could throw flowers on church road, your last journey out of your home street. Mum said ‘Kiran, this is the last time you can do something, you do whatever you want’!
So I told the girls my vision. I wanted to make sure your car you were in just drove on a bed of petals until the end of our road. Mum and dad live at number 6, so it’s only a short distance until you get to the end of the road. The girls were well excited, because we know you would’ve said ‘ what a waste of money’. Between the four of us, we bought flowers, Suman bought lots back from Kent, we bought every bunch in Ilford. Looking back, I now remember empty shelves, people were getting ready for this pandemic! The shed in the garden was full of different colourful flowers, plentiful for the short distance from number 6 to number 1 (the end of the road).
I called Roy at the funeral directors. I tell him what our plans are for that short journey. He stopped me halfway, saying ‘you do know that we will be taking your dad to the end of his road’.
I’m like ‘ yeah that’s fine, we’ve bought ample flowers , there will be enough petals on the ground!’
He said ‘yes, but we’re not walking to number 1, but the other end’.
Mum and dads road has over 60 houses! That’s more that 6 times the length.
I told him, it’s not a problem we will find these flowers! I’m on a mission! This is what I wanted to do!
Sunday morning before your funeral Bubbly and I went to the flower market, Maanay had recommended this place. We got up 6am ok more 7am. Dad this place was amazing, mum would’ve loved it! We bought 8 boxes of daffodils, Bubbly’s idea. We bought these beautiful brightly coloured carnations; they were huge and lots of other flowers.
We also stopped for a coffee and sausage roll in this rather quaint coffee shop. All of the crockery was mis-matched, along with the tables and chairs. Bubbly asked me ‘what are we actually doing’, so I stated the obvious eating a ‘home-made’ sausage roll and drinking coffee, whilst shopping for flowers. I knew what she meant, but I wanted to keep it light-hearted. She asked ‘are we really doing this’? I asked her, when was the last time, just you and I went out on our own. No kids no husbands, no one else! When will ever do this again? See, dad has bought us here together! To enjoy this food and drink while we shop! (and the bookends) Kawal and Suman to look after the kids while we enjoy this Sunday morning.
When we got home, one by one we took the bunches and boxes in, we stood in a line to pass it down with mum being in charge of what she loves doing the most, sorting out the flowers, the shed was full of flowers, mum had put them into huge cooking pots and buckets. We tried filling them up with a watering can but it was taking so long so mum pulled the hosepipe into the shed and started filling them up with water.
Dad you would’ve said ‘darling!’.
We had what looked like thousands of flowers, roses, tulips, carnations, lilies and daffodils, lots and lots of daffodils.
Dad the day before your funeral everyone was helping to take the petals off, it was like a tag system. It was all set up on the breakfast table in the kitchen, when the chairs became vacant someone else would come and take over. It was very therapeutic; it was also a laugh! I reckon everybody who helped will always think of you when they see a daffodil. Every time a bucket was finished they thought it was all finished. Yet more bunches of flowers came out.
They filled 4 huge shopping bags ready for your arrival the next day!
Miss you Dad
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