Our matriarch passes into the sunset

Today is a most spectacular yet sad day. We celebrated the 40th anniversary of the first lunar landing. We also celebrated the end of a wonderful life. My beautiful, petite grandmother - Jaymati J. Trivedi - was released from her illness of the last 15 or so years and shepherded into the next life. Born in 1913, Ba, as we all affectionately referred to her, had 9 children, 20 grandchildren, and 26 great grandchildren. She had a perfect record in terms of childbirth, which is a feat itself given the circumstances in which she delivered. She was survived by all but 2 children and 1 grandchild. She raised her children in a three-story row house in Baroda, India in less than 1,500 s.f. Her husband, my grandfather Jayantilal, was a simple man who earned his wage as a government worker. He died in 1960 leaving my grandmother to raise the last 3 or 4 children with the aid of my uncles, primarily my eldest uncle, Devendra.

Ba was a simple character. No pomp, no circumstance. She had the hearty laugh of a sailor, but moved through the bungalow like a mouse. She was frugal with her money but forthcoming with her whimsical tales of the past. She had black locks well into her 70's...no colors, no conditioners, and no expensive Saturday salon treatments. She had asthma the whole time I knew her, but she rarely complained. She was the matriarch that had long ago passed the reins to her sons and daughters. She lived more than half of her life without her spouse, never having driven a car and having flown overseas only once. Oddly, I only saw her dressed in white, the traditional dress color for an Indian widow.

She likely had a 4th or 5th grade education, but has fielded doctors, engineers, artists, and bankers (a lot of bankers). She fed many of them on piping hot rotis and fresh vegetables, stirred fried in the old Indian methods. Dozens, upon dozens of rotis. They'd melt in your mouth, I'm sure. By the time many of my cousins hit the stage, Ba was decommissioned from the kitchen. All we have are the wonderful stories.

So, on this day of passing, I can only thank her for giving us our father. I can only thank her for her laughter and her quiet sense of family pride. I can only thank her for her many years, though it has been a burden to her and I'm sure to many others, to whom I am also thankful to for the care and patience they provided. Finally, I'm thankful that she is now in a better place, at peace that her legacy is a strong and rich one that will forever endure.

Jay ambe, Jay-Jaymati. Jay ambe.