Dec. 11, 2022 Sunday: Three years quickly went by - and almost all those years under the grip of COVID. Ammachi departed just before that. Today, I had plans to go to her tomb and offer prayers, and even join the parish mass. Only later did I realise, when Jayachechi pointed out, that it was a Sunday. So I was not sure. When I finally made up my mind, it was too late for the second mass, and it was indeed raining heavily. So I planned to join the evening mass of the parish. But heavy rains again sent my plans chowpat, however, with some effort, I managed to to reach just before 6 pm and Kunjechi, Desichettan, Rajettan, Nisha and Paul were waiting there. I led a shortened version of the office for the dead, and at the mass, remembered her briefly before the congregation. May she rest in the Lord's joy!
July 3, 2022 Sunday.
For me, personally, the day has double significance, as it happens to be the birthday of my mother (ammachi) as well. She was born on July 3, 1933. Had she been on this planet today, she would have been 89, entering 90! But she departed from all of us on Dec. 11, 2019, after being unresponsive and bed-ridden for almost five years (since January 2014). Most likely she was named after St. Therese of Lisieux, as her name had become very popular by then, though she was not yet raised to the honour of the altars. But in the closer family and friends circle, she was Theyyamma.
She was the second eldest among the eight siblings born to Abraham and Rosamma. Abraham was a fiercely independent, outspoken, but caring and kind to the poor sort of person of the Kochery family of Thycattussery (or Kari, across the Vempanad). He had some difference of opinion with his family or parents, and left his ancestral home with his wife, came to Thycattussery, and got a small land property from Thaliyadil families (most likely a Hindu Ezhava family) and decided he wouldn't use his ancestral family name. He is greatly admired by his children for his boldness, spirit of adventure and care. It is told that he had to swim across a section of the backwaters, and he was caught in the jaws of a crocodile and yet managed to escape, with a terrible wound on his thigh. I am struck that I never got the curiosity to ask him to show that mark or perhaps, I learnt this after his death. By the time he died, my family was complete - all of us siblings were born. But his youngest daughter Leelamma still remained to be married. It was Joy chettan (our cousin), who brought the news home, and Ammachi asked the few of us who were there to get ready, as Appan was sick. Then Ummamma secretly told me 'poyi' - that he was gone. So I knew that already. As we travelled, crossed the river by the country boat (kadathu vallam), I could sense the anticipation in ammachi, she was almost hurrying, and on reaching home and finding appan dressed up in the coffin, she went out of control, and was crying aloud, calling out 'appa'. Perhaps, that was one of the two occasions I had found her emotionally out of control.
His eldest daughter, Thankamma, who was said to be a very intelligent girl, was afflicted with illness quite common in those times (jwaram), and died at the young age of 15. None of us, the grandchildren of Abraham (Appan) and Rosamma (Vellyammachi), has seen her.
My mother would have been third in the order, had Thankamma been alive. Thressiamma was said to be smart in her studies, and rather good in singing, being part of the Church choir of those times. But as our Vellyammachi got incapacitated to freely move around, on account of an accident at home, where her right leg was thoroughly damaged having pierced with broken pieces of glass of a lamp, as she fell down from a stool onto the broken pieces, with them almost severing her leg around the knee. She had to be rushed (!) to the the general hospital in Ernakulam, by country boat, rowing almost 30 kilometers! And in spite of all that, she survived, the leg was stitched in one piece, but the ability to move around normally being lost. She continued faithfully her duty of being a Christian mother, giving birth to 2 or 3 more children!!
But her being thus incapacitated and requiring assistance at home, most likely, put an end to my mother's formal education, completing just fifth grade. Perhaps, in those days, they got reconciled to all that easily. I wonder whether she regretted that in her life later. However, most of her contemporaries in Perumanoor-Thevara hardly had any better achievements on this front. And in spite of her very limited schooling, she was always quick to grasp, and never discontinued reading - though perhaps her reading was limited to Deepika daily, Satyadeepam, Amma Masika, Snehasena, Kutumbadeepam, and perhaps, occasional Malayala Manorama Weekly (borrowed from our friendly neighbour Geeta chechi).
So after a stint of perhaps 5 or 6 years managing home front as the senior daughter and also ably assisting at the tea-shop (chayakkada) which served puttu, appam, some other palaharams, perhaps, things like neyyappam, pazham pori, (from my vague guess - meals were not there!), she was married off to my father, Palakkappillil Lonan Xavier, who had lost his father at a young age, and had grown to be an independent and self made, but a handsome young man, with only a widowed mother and a younger sister as his immediate relatives. None of us bothered to research regarding how this proposal came to be. Perhaps, our Vellichayan would be able to shed some light on this.
She had come with my father, usually called Kunju, in a country boat, all the way from Thycattussery to Thevara, and became a daughter of Perumanoor for the rest of her life. It was perhaps a very ordinary, lower middle class family, with just a small house in a 25 cent property. I think there was never lack of food, but there would hardly have been anything saved, any luxury. Fifteen or 16 years later, the times when I can recall as a toddler, our home was good enough for a standard middle class home of those days. We had 3 more house in the same plot, which were given out on rent, from which we earned some income.
Ichayan was an unseen figure, as he used to be on work somewhere else, as assistant to some big time contractor Vallakkali of Kozhanchery region. And each of his arrival marked something new to the home... Once it was a series of toilets with septic tanks, which were just becoming fashionable then. Enough for all the families on the plot, and as per the traditions of those times, away from the houses, towards the edge of the plot. Another time, it was a radio. I don't recall a time when our house didn't have running water or electricity. All these were achieved and some financial discipline was brought in, I trust thanks to ammachi's efficient management of the family.
By that time, we had some landed properties in Thycattussery, two smaller ones in Thuthiyoor and I recall how ammachi used to go to Thuthiyoor (just about 20 kms away, but quite a distance in those days, with just one erratic bus plying in that direction), come back bringing with her sack full of tapioca, which were planted there. (That didn't last long. Within a few years, my elder brother and me took over the management of those plots). She would also ensure that some banana variety (chundilla kannan) is planted on our tiny plot yielding some very delicious fruit periodically. She also planted cheera or pavakka (bitter gourd) or some sort of peas (valan payar, chathura payar, amarapayar), or nityavazhuthana or pappaya to ensure some homegrown stuff are available seasonally from the plots around the house. However, it could only be called a culture. For, most of the time, our vegetable needs were met from the nearby market. (But now, after almost four decades, I see that most of us siblings have taken earnestly to producing homegrown vegetables, and surprisingly, much more effectively). She also tended a grape vine (perhaps, contributed by her sister-in-law who was always keen to do something good for her sister-in-law, and the family, whenever she visited us from her convent usually far away from Kochi), which yielded some fruits, though sour. Soon, my elder sisters, especially the eldest one, began to support her in the management of household, in daily chores of cooking, washing clothes, collecting rent, checking the electricity meter reading etc...
In those days, when we had some yield home-grown, especially, banana, ammachi used to share the same with our neighbours living in our rented buildings.
I also recall her effort to raise a goat, perhaps with the intention of managing the milk requirements home - I don't know - we raised it. My brother and I had to get grass from the wayside grass seller... there was struggle to milk the goat... perhaps, my eldest sister also got trained in that... But all that didn't last long. (We got this goat from Ichayan's friends, Xavier Chettan. When we brought it from their home, about a kilometre away, they did not ask any money, or when we enquired with Theyyamma chedathi, she just brushed that aside. I was glad and when I reported the matter to ammachi, she said that it should not be so. It is always better that the amount due is paid, that there is no such liability, later. I trust she did make that payment)
There was a bread-fruit tree, growing very well in front of the house, beginning to bear fruit, and she said, that was causing some drain in the family income - as it is kadaplavu, it was bringing in debt, and it needed to be felled. I countered her. She asked me to consult the parish priest. When I asked the parish priest about it, he gave some vague answer, saying that in thachushaastram there is some such reference, if the tree was on the North side of the house... I reported the matter to mom. Though the tree was on the western side, it was cut. And apparently, the stress disappeared.
Among her peers, she was a guide and had a way of instilling discipline with some of them, and supporting and guiding them. She had the good will to support her siblings, two of them remaining at home and completing their higher education, and providing opportunities for the children of her siblings, as and when required, to come and stay at the comparatively more urban centre of Kochi, to learn and complete their studies. She had taken initiative or played supportive role in getting marital alliances for her younger sister and the first cousin of Ichayan, both of whom were gradually getting beyond the marriageable age. It is a matter of gladness that both the marriages survived the storms of times, and remained stable, and fulfilling.
Home Management
Apparently, ichayan left her fully in command of the family management. Thus she was truly a 'home maker'. It think decision regarding what our names should be was all her decision. Perhaps, Rajettan was christened as Antony, as he was the first boy born after a line of four girl children, and perhaps, the fruit of a special intercession through St. Antony. I was named after my grandfather, John, but apparently, ammachi felt, St. Thomas our apostle also should be respected, giving me a rare combination of baptismal name, of John Thomas; the next one was after my maternal grand-father; and the last one, after apostle St. Paul. My eldest sister, perhaps after St. Alphonsa, to whom devotion was gaining strength in those days; and the next one after my maternal grandma, Rosamma, and third one after Maria Goretti, a very popular young saint of those times. I feel in this case, my paternal grandmother was not given any consideration - though I would say that they got along well; with some fight only regarding not letting my grandma do some work like splitting firewood, or trying to help out with some household chore. I felt that she took good care of ummamma.
She seemed to have the last say, as far as the education of the children was concerned - perhaps, the only other instances were that of my elder brother joining Rajagiri School and later, Engineering College, (his own initiative), and that of my younger brother joining Sainik school, which, was perhaps, solely Ichayan's initiative. It was she who decided that I would go to St. Augustine's school when I finished fourth grade. She felt that I should at least read in the English Medium, and our neighbouring SH school didn't have English medium instruction till VIII grade. Hence the choice. The money earned from Ichayan's work or rent, were all managed by Ammachi, in a very thrifty manner, that we were never in shortage of what we needed and perhaps, it helped all of us to lead a life of minimum needs, while not being miserly or stingy in our financial dealings.
She learnt to stitch, perhaps, with the help of Aetty, our aunt. Naturally, this was also intended to save money. She could cut the clothes and stitch them. And she did manage to do that for all the children, including the boys, till we were into middle school. Yes, the shirts for boys did not have that precision required, however, it was just the limited training that she had received in this matter.
I recall, it was standard practice for her to make payasam on birthdays. this, was a very rare practice in the families of our circles those days. Later, it got sophisticated into making semiya payasam, considered a step ahead than the typical rice or payar-parippu payasam. Then it occurred to her to make an offer to the birthday boy or girl, to make the choice - payasam or a sweet dish of his/her choice - like jalebi (jilebi - those days) or laddu (ladu).
I think she had a very good way with cooking - her fish curries, meat curries, vegetable thoran, chammanti, coconut chutney that was served along with dosa/iddli, pickles... all of these had a special taste. She knew the right combination that would tickle the taste buds. I hope some of it has been transferred to my sisters as well - though I am not all that sure. I remember the simple way in which she used to prepare tapioca (kappa), as an evening snack, plain-boiled, but with the right combination of salt & pepper - it used to taste very well. The only item she taught me to cook - was the preparation of tea! I grew beyond her in that - and I know how to prepare varieties of tea, perhaps, much better than what we used to get at home.
When we were all grown up, we thought that there should be some giving back and established a small scholarship at St Thomas school, where all of us had studied. She managed it on behalf of all us in a systematic manner. Perhaps, in the later stages, my younger brother, Paul, took charge of it.
One thing she was not reconciled with was that of Ichayan's habit of drinking. He used to have a regular quota of some alcohol or other - country liquor or western - in company of his friends. Some days, there used to be some small scale fight on that account, which went totally out of control once, with loud shouting and shrieking, and Ichayan was kind of cornered. I felt odd and went out of the house. But on reflection, I feel that there wasn't that much to be getting angry with or getting put off. Ichayan was never angry with her or others just because he had consumed alcohol. When, on some occasion, I said something blaming Ichayan (I can't recall what it was) in his absence, I remember ammachi defending him and admiring him for being a husband who never made a complaint about the food or its taste.
Social Involvement & the World Beyond our Town
Thanks to the initiative of our dynamic parish priest of those times, Fr. Peter Chirayath, (who later defrocked himself to lead a family life, actively in union with the Church; may his soul rest in peace!), she and Ichayan, had some experience of the world outside our district, joining the two pilgrimages organised by the parish - first one to Velankanni and the second one to Goa. I feel grateful to him for that! May his soul rest in peace!
The only other outing she might have had was that of going to Idukki with Ichayan and his cousin's family, to visit Fr. Augustus CMI (his cousin), who was busy establishing a CMI centre at what used to be a remote village in the not so hospitable terrains of high ranges, at tenth mile, closer to Kattappana. I remember how we had once gone to a pilgrimage to Vallarparadam, which was then accessible only by boat. Ichayan had arranged some 'vacation programme' for us twice - once for Rajettan & me, at the scenic location of Konni, a civil work across the beautiful Achankovil river; and another exclusively for me, at Nellimala, another beautiful place near Kozhenchery. But, those days, it never occured to him to take Ammachi and show his worksites. which would have been a fabulous experience for her, I believe.
I deeply regret that none of us could fulfil her dream of having a ride of airplane, though this could have very easily been done. But by then, she was already aging and having advanced problems of Parkinsonism.
The only active forum she was part of was that of mathrusangham of the mothers of the parish. After my departure from home joining the CMI congregation, she was seen to be more involved in the sangham, gradually becoming its leader for a fair amount of time. Perhaps, by then she got more time, with many of us leaving home, and younger ones being able to take care of themselves. She was closely associated with some of the sisters, especially, Sr. Rosario SD in this connection. I think they had a very good relationship, which sister recalled when I visited her after several years, as she was confined to wheel chair. Ammachi was still alive then, though she had also become confined to bed and almost non-responsive, whereas sister was still sharp with her memory. Sister was the class teacher of a few of our siblings, and was well known for her piercing pinches which served as a corrective measure for her students.
Ammachi used to wear the traditional chatta and mundu, though she had been of that generation when the big mekka mothiram, a traditional earring, was no longer fashionable. Being stuck to the smoky kitchen, which fire wood as the basic fuel source (gradually, we had the hybrid status - with some amount of cooking managed on kerosene stove; it was only after my departure from home, it had the facility of gas stove - but that used to be the standard all around), and with small kids to be taken care of, her dress within the domestic circle used to be shabby. I recall having seen her dressed in a fairly white and clean chatta and mundu, I was curious to know from her, if she was going out. This amused her much, and she got the meaning of it - that generally her dress was shabby; and a neater dress, to me implied that she had to go out of the house!
It was thanks to me, that she switched to what was modern and fashionable - to saree, at the age of 55! While I was completing my undergraduate studies at Najibabad, my uncle organised a trip involving Ichayan and Ammachi and my younger sister. It was a life-time opportunity for them to travel to the North of India. It was sometime in October or so. That journey made her to shift to saree, and there was no going back. And the home-wear began to be maxi, the loosely worn gown, which had become a popular wear for women at home. On this trip, I could take them to the nearest hill station of Lansdown, which was too cold for their standards then. We also had a trip to Delhi, where they could visit with her reputed cousin, V.M. Marangoly, working with Malayala Manorama.
My younger brother, Saju, was a medical student in Bangalore, and he had constant problem of sinusitis, requiring surgical procedures and hospitalisation. That made them travel to Bangalore a few times. Once they visited me as well, coming to know that I had a fracture of the ankle bone.
Health Hazards
Her first instance of health issues occurred with the replacement of her teeth with a new set. That happened when she was in her 40s! That put an end to the frequent bouts of toothache. It was some time around the late 70s, she must have been in his mid forties, when she got her ear drum injured, as she tried to clear the ear, using the thin stick of the traditional coconut (stick) broom (irkil). I recall it was a major trouble for her in those days, but later on, it was overcome, it seems.
In 1990, she had the first encounter with cancer. It was affecting her thyroid (Pappillary Thyroid Carcinoma??). It was detected timely, thanks to the intervention of our eldest brother in law I think - the thyroid had to be removed, but she was able to survive without great trouble. Thyroxin supplement had to be taken. She used to have periodic examinations at Cancer centre, Trivandrum, to check whether there was any sign of cancer. She survived rather well, for about 2 decades.
In 2001 December, we celebrated the golden jubilee of their wedding in a befitting manner. They both appeared healthy and happy. But in 2012, though they were still alive and able to move about, it was no longer their pleasant selves. Both of them had become weaker. However, we managed to have a small scale family get together with a mass celebrated at the monastery chapel, followed by a simple meal at the college canteen.
After Effects, Suffering
But in about 15 years since the detection of cancer, the impact of the external supplement for thyroid was seen, with her developing Parkinson's disease. Now she had to have two types of medication - thyroxin supplement and the one to control Parkinson's. Gradually, medication had to be increased to allow minimum mobility. As the medication increased, she began to have hallucinations. She would see devils laughing at her from the wall. When we said to her, 'amma, they are not there!', she responds, 'yes, I know they are not there; but still I am seeing them!!' If the medication was taken off, there would be no hallucinations, but then the body remains very stiff, and she would not be able to move about, or sit straight.
I am afraid, she never got reconciled with this stage her life. Loss of control on one's life was perhaps shattering, and she began to be very negative in her responses, especially to the two daughters-in-law who happened to be in her company. It was very stressful for all of us to reconcile with the unimaginable sort of transformation in a woman who was loving, caring, powerful, controlled, and above all, possessing great amount of understanding. I have heard her say, when we were young: Don't think of depending on your children!! She used to narrate the story of a hardworking father, who visited the daughter, and how he was being served frugal meal, which they had misunderstood as the most favourite food for their father, a means he deployed for cost-cutting at home front! The story implied that the children didn't really realise the sacrifices the parents did to make both ends meet. When she was still in her senses, once I asked her - you used to tell not to count on your children for support; now do you feel thus? She was very realistic: When you grow old, you feel helpless and you have no choice but to depend on others!! I would have preferred the other way about. The strong woman had disappeared.
Those were the years, when the brothers and sisters around started taking care of them by turns - usually, taking them to their own places - to Perinthalmanna, to Chalakkudy, Maradu, and even to Kozhikode, besides the family home at Perumanoor. The last of such trips together was in 2014. And they came back by January or February of 2015. I came to know that ammachi was not keeping well at all. But I had been bit too busy those days. Vavachayan (our uncle) and my cousin Fr. Joseph went home and annointed as per the sacramental rites. We thought she would not last long. But the next month, Ichayan who was otherwise fine, except for his failing memory, departed suddenly, while having his breakfast. And ammachi didn't even realise that.
After that, she could never be back to a life of any amount of normalcy - almost five years of being confined to bed - initially, she would open her eyes and be responsive at times, gradually, her eyes remained shut all through, it was a vegetative life with hardly any response, though certain occasions or persons evoked some positive responses. Prayer time was usually responded to, so too when certain persons were announced, even some responses of recollection could be seen. I travelled with my close friends to Perinthalmanna on July 3rd 2019, on her 86th birthday and offered mass at her bedside. I think that was the last time I saw her alive.
My sisters and brothers, especially, younger brother Saju, our representative in medical field (besides our two brothers-in-law), took really good care of her. I would have been practical enough to suggest that we assign her to a care home, and attend to her regularly, as it was really tough for the smaller families to take care of a bed-ridden person requiring full time assistance. The well paid care-givers, rarely matched our expectations, though there were exceptions. In spite of all odds, the family, especially, Saju, persisted, and persevered, giving her all the care possible at that time.
When he called up on Dec. 11, 2019 to convey that she had departed, I was grateful to God, for the release - on such occasions, death is really felt as 'mukti'. I had no sorrow whatsoever, as I was praying for her release. I should say that she was spared the ordeals of COVID, and passing away, just before the onset of COVID, she had the privilege of all concerend beng able to come, and pay their last respects to her.
Looking back, I remember how she managed a big home, and helped us all grow, in spite of the severe limitations in our resources, and never letting us feel deprived on any count, nor interfering too much in anyone's life or choices. Even she hardly ever insisted that we sit down and study.
With both of them growing in age, and almost finding no meaningful engagement at home, I strongly felt the need for community services that took care of the elders - day centres where the senior citizens of the locality could come, meet, chat, read or eat together, play games and return back home in the evening. Wherever I got opportunity, I felt that a combination of Anganwadi with arogyawadi for the elders coming together, interacting, playing and eating together would have been a very useful community resource. Yes, indeed, now some elite services affordable only for the HIG are on the offer; and some of them fulfill these needs very well. But, beyond such business models, community based service models, even requiring some reasonable cost recovery charges, are the need of the reality of population aging!
