Appreciation

Junette: An Extraordinary Being

By Krishantha Prasad Cooray

I have always felt that writing appreciations about people who have passed on, bear the elements of a ridiculous exercise because the subject never really gets a chance to read them. We write them nevertheless – for ourselves and others who are similarly bereaved by the passing of a loved one. We write to share grief, to celebrate a life and to remind ourselves and others of the footprints left upon our lives by those who have passed on to a different realm. Appreciations then, are of cathartic value; selfish and self-indulgent in a way. On the other hand, they are written because they will not be held back. This is especially true of those special few who are truly unforgettable; individuals who leave indelible marks on our memories and our consciousness.

I write because I can never forget Aunty June (Junette Audrey Tissera). Her son Dirk and daughter Simone were childhood friends of mine. Her husband, ‘Uncle Michael’ is one of the finest human beings I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Simone married my oldest and most trusted friend, one I have known since kindergarten at S. Thomas’ College, further cementing the bonds between her family and myself.

Aunty June was the kind of person who was always there for you. That sounds cliché. She was so much more than that. She was the kind of person who stood steadfastly beside you when your whole world was collapsing around you. She expressed herself plainly, even when she spoke the truths you were most afraid to hear. She was a devoted wife and mother and she rejoiced in her grandchildren in the way a woman who has lived a rich and soulful life can; she was proud of her whole brood and watched over them all; motherhood being the very essence of her being.
And she lived her life in a way that it was not only her immediate family who will miss her. Aunty June made it impossible for anyone whose life had been touched by her remarkable personality to be indifferent to her passing, her endless absence. By her death, we are all impoverished: her beloved family, her friends and all those lost souls she took in, to scold, to nurture and to set right on life’s journey.

If there is any consolation to be derived from moments such as this one, it lies only in the fact that Aunty June lived a good life. She married a man who remains a greatly respected gentleman, who cared for and loved her until the very end. They shared a lifetime of happiness together and raised children who have grown up to be people of great heart, integrity and high ideals, full of grit and determination. Like their parents, they are simple and rare human beings. The hallmark of the Tissera family is that they are staunch and loyal friends. Something that struck me at Aunty June’s funeral was that there wasn’t a single politician present. Just their people, friends, relatives, decent people whose lives they have touched in one way or the other, and always for the good.

I myself have been touched by their kindness and their humanity at a time when my world seemed to have fallen into pieces around me and few were willing to acknowledge that they knew me. Yet Aunty June and the Tissera family proved to be the exception and stood beside me so stoically that I never wanted for comfort or friendship. I will remember their loyalty and warmth forever.

Aunty June often came to see her son play for S. Thomas’.  The running joke (exaggerated) was that everyone in the ground and outside it, would know the moment her son Dirk got out even if they had their eyes closed, because she would start the car and race away, revving up the engine for all to hear. That was all her ‘involvement’ in her son’s career. Uncle Michael captained the country. He was once chairman of the selectors. And yet, at no point did either of them plan careers for their children.  All they wanted was their children to be decent human beings and responsible citizens, and this in a country and a time when parents leave no stone unturned to further the interests of their children. By hook or by crook. That’s the name of the game.  That was not the way the Tisseras operated. Aunty June just revved up the engine of the car. That didn’t get Dirk anywhere. It just took her away from a bad moment and it helped take Dirk to a better place.

Aunty June left her mark on our lives in many ways. She honed our values; she taught us to take life’s ups and downs sensibly. By her example she taught us duty, love, responsibility and loyalty – lessons I learned as a boy that have served me well in times of adversity as a man. We will miss Aunty June, her unique personality and her bubbly exterior. It is impossible to write the depths to which we will all miss her. Extraordinary human beings are like that. They rob us of words when they go. She will rest in peace, for if anyone deserves eternal rest, it is Aunty June. We are poorer, all of us, and especially Uncle Micheal, Simone, Dirk, Varuna and Sueli, for her loss. I wish for them strength. And the protection of the Good Lord.