Soonoo Engineer

Soonoo Engineer, born in Bombay, March 12, 1926 to mother and father, Piroja Vakharia and Nusserwanji Chandabhoy, passed away peacefully in her sleep at home in Vancouver B.C. on May 2, 2022 at age 96. She was the wife of the late, Homi Engineer, and mother of Merwan and Rukshana.

Soonoo and her late husband, Homi, were the first Zoroastrians to settle in Vancouver with their infant son, Merwan. A few years later, their daughter, Rukshana, was the first Zoroastrian born in the city.

Soonoo was respected and admired as a college professor of English & History; an avid peace, women's rights and interfaith activist; and as a valuable member of the Zoroastrian community. She had a life-long love of learning and on her 80th birthday published her poetry book, 'The Mystic Fire.' She will be dearly missed by all those whose lives she touched.

EULOGY BY SON, MERWAN ENGINEER

I promised Mom to recite this pithy poem in my eulogy:

'Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher' by Walter Savage Landor. "I strove with none, for none was worth my strife: Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art: I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life; It sinks; and I am ready to depart."

This poem aptly portrays Soonoo -- philosopher & poet, lover of nature & art; having actively enjoyed the bounty of her life, she was “ready to depart."

In death and life, Soonoo was blessed by grace. She passed away at home, in her bed, at ease -- as she had insisted she would!

Mom’s dear helper, Lima, was with my sister when they found Mom in a peaceful repose. Dear Lima, thank you! Your loving care for Mom was a true blessing.

Mom loved outings. Her last week of life started out with an adventure with family friend, Michael. Over the phone, she told me about their “mystery tour.” Michael had sent me a colourful email recounting where they went and how the pair of them almost magnetically attracted interesting, friendly folk. Thank you, Michael, for taking Mom on these lovely little adventures and gifting me a travel diary to revisit.

Later in the week, my sister took Mom for a viewing of the cherry blossom promenade in West Vancouver. Just two days before Mom passed away, they went to a beautiful garden centre where she gave their friend, April, a birthday gift of her poetry book and a figurine Goddess.

But, Mom was “ready to depart." Her body was crumbling. The indignity of becoming an invalid was blessedly not hers. Grace let her depart -- when ready -- after a very good week! We should all be so lucky!

My sister’s constant care for Mom contributed to Mom’s longevity. Sis took great pains to ensure Mom had the best foods and supplements. Thank you Sis!

Grace mysteriously blessed Soonoo’s last years. Miraculously, her badly bent body slightly uncurled. At the same time, her smile came to embody a divine radiance and that transported her beyond the pain.

The arch of Soonoo’s life spans continents, cultures and eras. Her account of her early life is revealing of a grand old world. It begins:

"My earliest memories go back to Master Mansion, a large four-story building that stood on the Chopati Beach front facing the vast Arabian Sea. Here, with my parents, I lived in a large apartment with my dear grandfather, two aunts and my much older cousin. Across the foyer, in a similar apartment, lived my great grandmother, Maiji, a very stern old lady who from her bedside kept tabs on her large family. She expected everyone to visit her regularly, and how angry she had been when she knew my father, then a young man in his thirties, had attended a political rally called by The Indian Congress Party. That anyone could oppose 'apri rani no raj' -- great Queen Victoria's power -- was an anathema to her."

Mom grew up in Poona. She lived with her father and her beloved, aunt, "Ma" at #11 Koregaon Park. A few houses down the street, at #6 Koregaon Park, lived her cousins Korshed, Arnie and Roshan. They enjoyed years of joyous, creative play together. Her cousins became like her sisters. Together, they all enjoyed a superb education at St. Mary’s Girls High School.

Soonoo deeply admired Gandhi and Nehru. After a brief flirtation with the independence movement, Mom graduated with an Honours degree in History from Wadia College in 1947. I was surprised to learn that Mom also graduated with a Minor in Economics – my own expertise. No wonder we argued so much about political economy!

After graduating, Mom enrolled in teachers’ college. She did so well that the teachers' college hired her to teach aspiring teachers. She loved it. Teaching was her calling.

Mom and Dad married in 1951. Soon thereafter, they left for Calcutta, where Homi held the demanding position as Head of Post & Telegraphs. Mom thoroughly enjoyed teaching the bright Bengalis and playing violin in the Calcutta Philharmonic Orchestra. Mom and Dad enjoyed the company of an accomplished cadre of friends including Rustom & Lin Patel who eventually settled in Victoria and became my friends.

In 1957, Merwan emerged too quickly into the world at a mere 4 pounds 6 ounces. Mom was disquieted when she found out that a stupid nurse had prematurely induced his birth. No matter, Merwan voraciously took to Mom’s milk and fattened up.

On a whim, the Engineer family applied for immigration to Canada. Surprisingly, they were immediately granted permission, on the condition that the family immigrate within the year.

Dad arrived in Canada in November of 1957. He quickly found a job at BC Tel, bought a house in Kitsilano, and purchased a fully automatic Mercury Monterey. He was ready for the arrival of Mom and Merwan in April 1958. On their first full day in their new homeland, Dad took them for a picnic at White Cliff Park. Mom’s hesitation in moving halfway around the world evaporated when she realized that she had landed in “the most beautiful place in the world.”

In the early days, Mom and Dad were welcomed as exotic by the native intelligentsia. Mom looked spectacular in saris and Dad was debonair in his tailored suits. They were the toast of the cocktail circuit until Dad, the iconoclast, proved to be too contrarian.

Soonoo found her new life in Canada challenging. She had never managed a house without servants. Far more stressful and traumatic was teaching rambunctious Grade 8 teens. After a year of terrorizing her, they expressed their penitence by gifting her a beautiful purple dressing gown in anticipation of a new arrival, my sister.

Mom celebrated the birth of my sister, Rukshana, as a miracle. She encouraged me to show off my miracle sister to all the kids in the neighbourhood, and I paraded them by her crib one-by-one. Sis and I enjoyed lovely birthday parties. Sis and I benefited from our parents always welcoming our friends into our home.

Homi was involved in founding several organizations. I remember Mom giving Dad suggestions about how to structure the founding constitution for the fledgling ZSBC in 1968.

Soonoo was happy to land a position teaching English at Vancouver City College. There, she developed two courses of her own, one on Asian history and the other on world religions. She taught versions of these courses to grateful students at the SFU downtown campus and the Unitarian Church. Mom was a congregant of the Unitarian Church on 49th and Oak for many years.

A vignette. In grade 12, the captain of the soccer team, who was going out with a girl I fancied, took me aside. He graciously offered that he was in debt to me and explained: his father was deeply grateful to my mother for teaching his father proper English! By the way, I didn’t get the girl.

The Engineer clan grows with the arrival in 1969 of my Uncle Ronny, Aunt Patricia and their children Zareen and Jehangir with Perveen to be born in 1971. A few years later, we are joined by my older cousin, Shireen, her husband, Ernie, along with their children Bobby and Suzie. A picture of us taken in 1977 (with elder Uncle Aspi, former Indian Air Marshal) is grand and portends the beginning of a dynasty. Looking back, it was a high point. Unfortunately, each family experienced conflict and/or tragedy.

Sadly, Dad was becoming increasing obstinate. Finally, Mom parted ways with Dad in 1985. It was a huge liberation for her. The bitter resentment that brewed over many years dissipated. Sis and I were relieved that they eventually parted on good terms and remained good friends (until Dad passed away at age 96 in 2010).

Untangled from Dad, Mom was able to save a nice bundle to will to her children. For your sacrifice, Mom, a double thank you from your daughter and son.

After a series of unfortunate debilitating mishaps, Soonoo retired from teaching at age 61. A gifted and natural teacher, Soonoo developed and taught an evening course on world religions. Several people, including the parents of my two closest friends, told me how it changed their outlook on the world.

Retirement freed up Soonoo to become more involved as a peace activist with the Voice of Women and WILPF (Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom), an international peace organization. She served as president of WILPF Canada and local treasurer. With peace delegations, she toured Europe and the former Soviet Union.

Soonoo was also active in interfaith groups. She was the Zoroastrian delegate at the100th anniversary of the Hague Peace Conference in 1999.

Last, but not least, Mom was chief “instigator” of the ZSBC (Zoroastrian Society of British Columbia) hosting the 1992 World Zoroastrian Congress in Vancouver. I say instigator because after Mom had exhorted the executive into hosting the conference, it was left to Bella Tata and her team to undertake the hard work to make the Conference a success. And, it was a great success! Thank you Bella!

As you know, Soonoo had a natural regal presence. In addition, you may have noticed our Monarch’s resemblance to Soonoo. In 1971, Soonoo briefly met with Queen Elizabeth. I asked, "How was it to meet the Queen?" She matter-of-factly replied, “She seems like a nice lady."

Several years ago, I suggested to Mom that I film her doing an alternative Royal Christmas Message. I was sure we would get a million hits when posted on YouTube. Mom looked at me crossly, and in a queenly way declared, “Don’t be absurd!” The refrain -- “I strove with none, for none were worth the strife” – fits well.

A vignette. In homage, Mom and I toured the Gandhi Ashram in Ahmedabad in 1994. In no time at all, Mom commandeered the tour along a different route and interrogated our guide mercilessly on details. At one point, I lagged behind. An angry man elbowed me. In broken English, he angrily commanded me to get back to my duty assisting Memsaab. I responded plaintively, I was her son, not her lazy servant. He gave me such a ferocious look; he would have certainly kicked me had I not already scurried to Memsaab’s side.

In her last decades, Soonoo stoically endured several painful aliments and injuries. She rarely complained and remained insatiably curious with a zest for life.

I would like to tell you about my last outing with Mom. We went to Van Dusen Gardens, and at the café, I ordered a 16-ounce hot chocolate with a full head of cream covered in chocolate powder. Our guilty pleasure was to split it. However, on this occasion, she naughtily slurped it all! On the way home, she repeatedly echoed her immense enjoyment of the hot chocolate. Peering out the car window, she gazed with a child-like absorption at the opulence of the cherry blossoms. She exclaimed that this year was “The best ever." When I left her that day to return to Victoria, she embodied that oft-manifest divine radiant smile.

I shall cherish the touch of the divine light in that smile and trust its radiance will light her way. Bon Voyage Mom, I love you.

EULOGY BY DAUGHTER, RUKSHANA ENGINEER

I scarcely know where to begin describing my love and admiration for my mother, so allow me to share some of the things Mom most loved, and what I most loved about her:

Astronomy ~ As a child, Mom would stand atop the grand veranda of her home in Koregaon Park, Poona, and marvel how the tiles would sparkle under the glistening moon and starlight. This wonder for the mysteries of the grand universe would mesmerize Mom her entire life. Indeed, her earliest professional aspiration was to be an astronomer.

Maps ~ From her father, Mom gained a fascination for geography and maps. Whether traveling in B.C. or learning of a remote island thousands of miles away, Mom always wanted to know the lay of the land in detail. In fact, while on scenic drives, Merwan and I would often tease Mom to look up, drink in the beauty, and save map dissection for the arm chair!

Travel ~ As a girl, even traveling as far as Agra seemed but an elusive dream. Little could Mom envision then that she'd eventually live half way around the world in beautiful British Columbia. As the years passed, Mom traveled both for pleasure and purpose, including destinations previously off the beaten track such as the former Soviet Union and Cuba. She thrived on discovering the history, art and scenic splendor of destinations far and wide and also took part in peace, interfaith and Zoroastrian conferences. In her arm chair years, travels were confined to lovely day outings and venturing vicariously through Rick Steves' TV series, 'Europe Through the Backdoor.' In the final year of her life, Mom enjoyed several online courses: 'Mountain Ranges of the World' and 'India' in which she discovered new hidden gems through the photographic brilliance and research of world explorer, Peter Langer.

The Arts ~ As a youngster, Mom studied the violin seriously, won several scholarships and awards, and along with her playmate cousins would put on recitals rich with music, song, dance and skits for the elders who'd pay a pretty penny for the privilege of witnessing the budding talent of their protege. That love of the visual and performing arts, bloomed over her lifetime. Whether it was visiting Seattle's Asian Art Museum, marveling at the splendours of Florence or attending the opera, symphony, ballet or theatre at home or abroad, she had an unquenchable passion for the arts. In her retirement, she joined the Brock House Choir, and even into her early 90's, independently headed off to the delightful Vancouver Symphony series 'Tea and Trumpets' at the majestic Orpheum Theatre.

Food ~ From healthy salads and veggies through favourite Parsi dishes, Indian dosas, samosas and much more, Mom relished tasty fare. Even bland meals morphed into something special with a sweet lime pickle or one of my aunt Patricia's divine chutneys. "Let food be thy medicine" was a principle integrated into Soonoo's meals. Mom's "medicine" included "super foods" like spirulina and bee pollen; specialty supplements and fresh vegetable juices and herbal teas for healthy lung and immune function. Mom was proud to have been entirely free of any pharmaceutical intervention for most of her life, including her final years. On the rare occasion that she had a slight cough, she'd be better the next day thanks to 'Doctor Rukshana's' home remedies. In her final months, though, her mostly healthy diet gave way to childlike cravings for "naughty foods" which she indulged in with glee. Favourites included pizza -- especially smoked salmon pizza -- chocolate covered ice cream bars, candied ginger, and rich mocha butter cream meringue and wafer cakes! In fact, what a lucky "young lady" she was to have two parties celebrating her 96th birthday -- partaking in two decadently, delicious cakes!

Reading ~ Mom's greatest love in her final years was reading for hours on end. In fact, it was almost impossible to tear Mom away from an engrossing book, and I'd often find her up into the wee hours of the morning absorbed by a fascinating read. Her interests covered a gamut of topics including: poetry, philosophy, metaphysics, history, natural health and heavy political investigations such as 'Demolition of the American Empire' and 'The Real Anthony Fauci: Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health.' Having been a dedicated peace activist for years, and cynical of the control, corruption and censorship peddled by mainstream propaganda, she was a seasoned researcher, and had written a number of articles and position papers on pivotal political and economic matters. On the lighter side, she took enormous pleasure in discussing interesting novels with Merwan -- particularly those written by renowned and emerging Parsi and Indian authors.

Teaching ~ Mom's lifelong love of learning made her a respected teacher both in India, where she taught teachers, and decades later at Vancouver Community College and SFU Continuing Education. Her teaching "repertoire" included ESL, Canadian history, her own course specializing in the ancient history and culture of Japan, China and India; as well as her own fascinating series on comparative religions. I consider myself fortunate to have taken both of these courses, so rich in fascinating content.

But it wasn't merely her knowledge that made her such an excellent teacher. She truly cared about her students, and I'd often hear her on the phone worried about students who were stressed by the demands of work, school and home. Two striking examples of the impression she made on students are shown with shy, elf-like, Alan, who'd send her affectionate Mother's Day cards and frequent letters praising her caring, beautiful nature; and with Michael, who used every positive adjective in the book in evaluating her: "greatest...fantastic...excellent... super... terrific and incredible." That she maintained correspondence with numerous students over the years, is a testament to the impact she had on so many lives.

Outlook on Life ~ Perhaps what I most admired about Mom -- which became much more pronounced in her final years -- was her zest for life and "joie de vivre." Despite the challenges of aging, she rarely complained and never became bored or jaded. She relished rich conversations and the chance to rediscover favourite parts of the city. As she'd peer out the car window, she'd notice everything from the beauty of blossoming cherry blossoms to the architectural style -- or lack thereof -- of an ever changing Vancouver. On one of her last outings, she laughed as she read out a restaurant sign, "Life is too short for dull food."

The last thing Mom asked me, only hours before passing early May 2nd, was what I wanted to do for my upcoming birthday. We then talked about viewing old family movies the next evening and followed with her nightly arm exercise routine, before she retired for the night. Alas, she would never make it to my birthday in body, but I knew she'd be there in spirit. The sorrow of losing my beloved, still vibrantly bright 96 year old mother was lessened by the realization that she's had a rebirth being reunited with loved ones long passed and our precious dog, Mitzi.

One of Mom's greatest goals was to have her poetry published... And so it was... 'The Mystic Fire' made its debut on her 80th birthday, proving one's never too old to realize one's aspirations. For her 95th birthday, Merwan had her poetry republished, reaching new admirers... It was Mom's heartfelt wish that her poetry be read at her departure. With bittersweet feelings, I bid you farewell, my beloved mother... I will dearly miss you.

WHEN I HAVE GONE BY SOONOO ENGINEER

When I have gone

And shed this worn-out self

Think not of me with pain and sorrow

For I shall be in the vast ethereal void

Boundless, joyous, free.

I shall be there in the wind

As it through dark forests quivers

And where the golden corn heavy with bounty

Drowsily in sunlight nods,

In the cascading fall of autumn leaves,

And in calm waters touched by moon beams.

I shall be there in the laughter and play of children

Among people gathered to seek for justice and peace

And where minds extend to grasp the unknown

I shall be there, I shall be there, I shall be there.

IN HER OWN WORDS: MOM'S RECOLLECTIONS RECORDED IN 2021

"My earliest memories go back to Master Mansion, a large four story building that stood on Chopati sea front facing the beach and the vast Arabian Sea.

Here, with my parents, I lived in the large apartment with my dear grandfather, two aunts and my much older cousin. Across the foyer, in a similar apartment, lived my great grandmother, Maiji, a very stern old lady who was looked after by successive unmarried granddaughters. I remembered literally having to be dragged to her side as she sat propped up by pillows and constantly catered to. Later on, as I grew older, I heard accounts of my great grandmother on how from her bedside she kept tabs on her large family, how she expected her sons and daughters and even grandchildren to visit her regularly, and how angry she had been when she knew my father, then a young man in his thirties, had attended a political rally called by The Indian Congress Party.

That anyone could oppose "apri rani no raj" -- great Queen Victoria's power -- was an anathema to her. Maiji, not only had the Gujarati newspaper read to her daily, she also followed the serial story, and if any of her granddaughters skipped passages, she upbraided them. Maiji took a peg of brandy every evening maintaining it was for her health. She died just a week shy of her 100th birthday, and left me a sudrah she'd stitched to be worn on my Navjote. She also left my father a beautiful black carved teak side table that sits proudly in my living room today.

My early memories of Bombay are few but fairly vivid. I remember being taken to the Chowpati Beach by my father and playing in the sand.

I remember an occasional bus ride up Malabar Hill to the Hanging Gardens. How delighted I was to see the beautiful flower beds, to play on the manicured lawns, to walk along the numerous pathways and above all, to be able to see the great city of Bombay from its height. Another treat was to be taken to the zoo. But what I loved most, was a visit to the Prince of Wales Museum. It was a veritable place of wonder: galleries full of stuffed animals set in their artificially created natural surroundings; rooms full of paintings; others that displayed old varses and antiques from China, Japan and beyond; and rooms displaying old costumes. What intrigued me the most was the sound of the local railway which passed fairly close to the back of our flat. Where did it go? To Lonavala and Khandala. Where was that, I inquired: far away? Would I ever go there? Perhaps, if I was very good. The sounds L-o-n-a-v-a-l-a and K-a-h-a-n-d-a-l-a resonated in my memory, and I prayed I would go there one day. Though I was soon to leave Bombay, I must say that Bombay held a certain fascination for me throughout my life. We spent several school holidays there and then wandered further a field to Bandra, beautifully situated on a hill top and Jehu Beach. But the most exciting place of all, were the Elephanta Caves reached by a ferry where we could view the ancient rock carvings centuries old, and the most famous Trimurti -- a huge carving of the three heads: Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. Years later, I understood their true significance.

In spite of its chaotic traffic, some very crowded dirty areas, its bustling population, for me, Bombay was a vibrant city. It was here that we visited many relatives, enjoyed "lagans" (Parsi weddings) and navjotes (Zoroastrian religious initiation ceremonies). I had my navjote here. Here, I met and married my future husband, and years later my son had his navjote here, too. In Bombay, I attended symphony concerts, later joined the madrigal singers, viewed art exhibitions, and attended interesting talks, activities, non existent in Poona.

Between four and five, my elders decided that it was in my best interest that I go to Poona and live with Ma, my oldest aunt. Here, in Pune, I had the company of my two cousins, Khorshed who was three and a half years my senior, Arnie, two years my junior and it was here that I had the opportunity to attend a very good British school. My first home with Ma was in a cottage that she tastefully furnished. Thanks to her warm caring nature, I happily settled down to my new life and did not particularly miss my parents. Life, however, was not all play and no work. On the contrary, before being allowed to be enrolled in a British school, it was mandatory that I prove some proficiency reading and writing in my mother tongue, so everyday, I had a lovely lady who I called Freny Aunty who came daily to teach me Gujarati and to do simple arithmetic in Gujarati numerals. This was quite challenging, but I succeeded and passed my exam.

After some time, Ma and I moved to a rented home very close to where my youngest aunt, Najufui, my uncle, Fuaji, and my cousins lived in a very large home (with some of their relatives) in Koregaon Park. Khorshed always felt very senior, but Arnie and I were great playmates and along with a few children in the compound, we played all kinds of games: four corners, seven tiles, "London" and "Objekens." Roshan, born in December 1933, five years younger than Arnie, was too young to join in our activities. Arnie and I were quite creative and sought means where by we could add to our meager pocket money. We made necklaces and "scents," we put on a concert playing a piano duet, "Over the Waves" and performed a little dance and charged our elders eight annas to attend.

Before I continue, I'd like to say something about my hometown, Poona, which I left when I got married. Poona lay on the Deccan Plateau roughly 120 miles southeast of Mumbai. To get to it meant crossing the Western Ghats. At its highest elevation, one came to Lonavala and Khandala -- places I had long dreamt about. Poona lay on the east side of the Deccan plateau .

Once the proud capital of the Maharastrian Empire, the head quarters of Shivaji who challenged the might of the Moghul Empire, the old fort in the crowded old city with its temples was testament to that rich history. Adjacent to it, sprawling over several acres, lay the newer part of the city with its busy commercial areas, its residential areas consisting of mostly homes built on roughly half acre lots and beyond that was the cantonment area where the British and the Indian troops were stationed. Poona was the headquarters of the British western military command.

St. Mary's Girls High School and the Bishop's Boys High School, with their British curriculum, were there to serve the needs of the British and Anglo-Indian personnel stationed in Poona. At the age of five, I was enrolled in St. Mary's prep school, and I continued with my education for the next several years until I graduated having done my Senior Cambridge exam. Most of the girls at St. Mary's were British or Anglo-Indians. Only a minority were Indians who were charged a double fee for the privilege of attending the school. I must say, it was an excellent school which provided me with a well rounded education, rich in literature and the arts. We had singing classes, art classes and practically every year there was a Gilbert and Sullivan opera that we put on. I remember vividly taking part in 'Mikado' and 'Iolanthe' in which I played the role of the fairy queen. It was here that my cousins and I started taking private music lessons. My older cousin, Khorshed, excelled at the piano and finally acquired her LRAM certificate. I studied the violin for many years, acquired a scholarship after completing the grade six exam and finally discontinued when my instructor headed off to England.

Following my studies at St. Mary's Girls School, I continued my education at Wadia College. My five years there was a very different experience altogether, with its large co-ed classes, no regular homework and sole focus on our final exam for our marks. We were left very much to our own device.

We often spent time in the cafeteria or going to the coffee house instead of attending lectures, and since the struggle for India's independence was gaining momentum, we attended political meetings where we heard Pandit Nehru speak, and went to a prayer meeting attended by Mahatma Gandhi in the early 40's. I was greatly impressed by his piety and his genuine love for all humanity as he included other faith and cultural teachings. Above all, I was impressed by the concept of 'Ahimsa' which means total non-violence in all forms.

Despite playing truant, I finally graduated with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in 1947. The next year, I enrolled in a teacher's training programme. Although teachers were very poorly paid in India, I think it was the best decision I ever made, and it proved very valuable when I finally moved to Canada. Here, the classes were small and the instruction was well structured. We were taught how to draw out lesson plans and had to give instruction to classes which were supervised.

While my schooling was very British, my home life was very different: here we spoke Gujarati, ate delicious Parsi food, observed our traditional customs and celebrated birthdays, New Years in a very traditional way..."

*Alas, Soonoo began to tire easily and lost interest in continuing her recollections, though Merwan and I have a fairly rich idea of her life from her young adulthood onward.

MEANINGFUL MOMENTS SINCE DEAR MOM'S PASSING

Merwan and I were both blessed to experience some touching, almost mystical moments in the days, weeks and months after Mom's passing.

Around May 5th, just three days following the departure of our dear mother, Merwan was astounded to see a racoon outside his bedroom window gazing at him with deep intention. Upon reflection, it occurred to Merwan that the striking creature with its mesmerizing gaze, reminded him of when Mom wore her big eye glasses that made her eyes wide just like that of a racoon!

On May 8th, incidentally Mother's Day, I had an emotional call with Merwan thinking of Mom. After putting the phone down, I headed to a storage closet where I bemoaned loudly, "Mom, why don't you give me a signal of your presence?" Within seconds, a light, but distinct thud broke the silence. When I went to look what had fallen, lo and behold, it was Mom's much beloved and frequently worn "red dressing gown" which just happened to fall off it's hook in her bedroom! Hmm... It had never done a mysterious free fall like that before. Thanks Mom for sending a much needed sign, even if it was a bit eerie!

On May 14th, following Mom's funeral, I returned exhausted and fell into a deep trance-like state, neither asleep nor awake. In this receptive state of deep relaxation, I had a vision. There was Mom looking as young and beautiful as in the lead photo of this book, lying in her floral dress on a simple white bed, in a plain, pure white room reminiscent of a very simple, clean hospital room. Well, she lay there with her eyes closed and her ankles crossed. She then quietly arose and walked off with ease... How beautiful!

The next day, I fell into that same deeply receptive state, and could literally feel a warm bundle held tightly against my chest. I then looked down and who should I see, but my beloved Mitizi whom Mom, too, so fondly loved. She quickly "evaporated" but the visit was so meaningful to me -- to know Mitzi and Mom were finally reunited, and Mitzi came to comfort me and let me know.

Monday, May 16th was a typical grueling day of neural therapy injections. I was running late and so out of the blue grabbed Mom's pink light coat instead of my own coat sweater which I couldn't find. Now, let me back up a bit... On May 14th, the day of Mom's funeral, just before the casket was closed, I sent Mom off with a gift of a dark chocolate with orange, two Ferrero Rocher chocolates, some candied ginger pieces and a Coffee Crisp -- all tied with a pretty bow and a card of emotional farewell.... Now back to May 16th... Well, I don't recall ever wearing Mom's pink jacket, and wouldn't have, had my things not been in such disarray. Once at my appointment, I headed to the bathroom and after washing my hands put my hand into her coat pocket. Well, what should I pull out? A chocolate bar! Oh, my goodness, talk about a perfectly orchestrated synchronicity. Mom was gifting me back a chocolate in return! To be sure, in all the years that Mom had stuffed assorted items in her pocket, there was never a chocolate -- eye drops, tissues, her hearing aid etc, but never a chocolate, and Mom was not one to let a good chocolate go to waste. But this specialty bar was different: it was destined to be found by me as a sign of her love!

On my birthday, May 18th, I was determined to celebrate much like Mom would have wanted me to and so met Maureen, April and Geri at a Greek restaurant and came back to Maureen's for my cake which read, "Happy Birthday Rukshana, Love Mom." Before we met, I "asked" Mom to let me know of her presence by having one of my friends notice the jewellery I planned to wear. So, I put on her lovely turquoise, seed pearl and enamel necklace and much to my delight, April noticed it but had no clue it was a family heirloom. Now, she may have noticed it anyway, but later that evening back at Maureen's place, she remarked on it again... I truly think this was Mom's way of confirming that she was, indeed, present!

One of the most significant ways I sensed that Mom "communicated" with me was through dachshunds. Though mini-dachs have become increasingly popular since I had 'Ms. Mitz' decades ago, it still struck me as more than coincidental that I would run into so many mini-dachs -- almost always black & tan females, like Mitzi -- than I ordinarily would. Here's one of the most telling encounters.

On June 10th, I headed over to my usual Friday infrared sauna in a largely residential area. Well, that day, something made me search for free parking further away than normal. As I finally approached the clinic on foot, I saw a striking Weinmarer with its head popping out of a back car window. Well, I exclaimed aloud, "My aren't you attractive!" Well, no sooner had I complimented the large dog when a small doggy awoke from its slumber and popped her head out the front window barking away. Oh my, a black and tan mini-dach that looked and sound so very much like Mitzi. Well, on chatting with her owner, I discovered that her name was 'Mizu' -- so similar to 'Mitizi' but what's more, even closer to 'Mitzu' which is what Mom commonly called our Mitzi!

Now, of course, it could have been a mere "coincidence," but in the several years I'd gone to that clinic, I don't once recall seeing a mini-dach in that area, let alone have the meet and greet so perfectly timed for a "chat" with Mizu! Thereafter, I must have run into mini-dachs in that area at least four times (and in other areas, too!) One dach owner even quipped, "Your mother must be communicating to you through dachshunds!"

On July 8th, Merwan and I finally managed to host a thank you dinner for Satya, Emma and Kim. We were enjoying our tasty Indian meal from Sula, as Merwan and I recounted some of our more spiritual experiences since Mom's passing. Well, Emma started telling us about the significance of having hummingbirds visit and even pointed out the hummingbird silver bracelet she was wearing. Within moments, I saw a hummingbird right at our solarium window. My goodness, imagine that! Astonished,

I told the others, but then realized it's crystal clear appearance was because it was actually inside the solarium! We all immediately ran into the solarium to see the tiny creature frantically trying to get back outside. It must have come through the open solarium door, so we worked to coax it back in the direction of its freedom.

Now in all the years Mom had lived at Magnolia Gate, I never recall a bird actually entering the suite. What are the odds that this magical visit would occur, let alone when all three ladies were visiting and Emma was elaborating on the spiritual meaning of hummingbird visits! Bless you, Mom, for "dropping by" to say your were there and happy to see the group of us together!

The next day, July 9th, also presented an unusual animal encounter. It was Ivan's Celebration of Life as well as the 12th death anniversary of dear Dad. Well, after a splendid celebration of the one and only character, Ivan, I dropped Merwan at the bus stop to head back to Victoria. A few hours later, I'm sent a close up photo of a rather regal seagull perched on the railing of the boat close to Merwan. Apparently, it stayed there quite a while "communing" with Merwan, unlike its friends scavenging about for morsels to eat. Was this unusual seagull encounter a thank you visit from Ivan, Dad, Mom or maybe a combination?

We'll never know "who" sent this avian visitor, but it was another lovely and meaningful photo memory to contemplate.

No doubt, there will be other meaningful visits in the coming months and years as Mom continues to reach out to us beyond the veil with her loving spirit. God bless you Dear Mom, until we meet again, you're forever in our hearts!

Your loving children,

Rukshana and Merwan