How do we say goodbye to our dearest friend and neighbour who left us in the sunset of her life. No matter how old we get, our times on this earth is short. Dora has left behind a trail of footprints. She was a loving mother to Sam, a thankful mother-in-law to Charmalie, a caring and protective grandmother to Shalini and Shanaka, a devoted sister, a loving aunt to her nieces and nephews, and a genuine friend to us all. The day before, she has passed away Sam gave us the opportunity to see Dora. Her eyes were weighed down by the effects of morphine, yet she recognised our voices as we comforted her and said our goodbyes. 

What do we do when a life that was present is gone? In our quiet times we lay beside our memories, where we think of our friendship with Dora, who set up residence in our hearts. She made us laugh through our tears, helped us during times of stress, wisely, sternly and practically, when we sort her help and counsel. The weight of this sad time compels me to express my feelings of our neighbour and dearest friend. Some people have many roles in life, and Dora had many. Dora was a woman of true grit, who lived life on her own terms. We remember with nostalgia our holidays in Sri Lanka, India and Bangkok in the late eighties and early nineties. She would search and search for the latest “Barbies” in all the toy shops everywhere in these places for her granddaughter who had a collection of the trendy dolls of that time. Dora was like the pillar of fire in front of the camp, not only to us, but to many who sought her. I see the years at Park St. like a silent movie: Dora sitting in her favorite chair, shaking her feet in slow rhythmic movements. My mind stretches to those happy days of leisure, the fun times with her family, and with friends that is imprinted like a watermark in the large canvas of time. I think of the “sara sara” bags filled with clothes, towels, materials from Salu Sala, where she would practically make the wide-eyed sales lady Nalini, who by then had become her friend,  pull down rolls of material to choose, for her “Aurudha” gifts.

 I enjoyed driving her on weekday afternoons to places she wanted to visit. Dora also discovered Mark D, a shop on Galle Road that sold handbags. She could not resist stopping there each time, to purchase hand bags, and coin purses. Memories of the past just don’t fade; they remain as the shiniest images from the stream of time. 

I think of those weekday evening conversations at our home where Dora, Hillary and I would have; these sessions sometimes joined by friends. Her stories were interesting and funny. Park St. brims with memories, of those happier times, with Dora like a Matriarch, keeping an eye on things. She was always there alongside us, at, times of joy, triumphs and loss. She had her famous phrases which we were familiar with, and which I would remind her at the end of our conversations on the phone, much to her amusement! All her friends and family will have no trouble in reliving memories of Dora. Though she is gone, she has taken residency in our hearts. Hillary and I would reminisce those many memories with nostalgia from time to time, and share it with our mutual friends reflecting on our days at Park St. She is now somewhere between the moon and the stars. 
Rest in peace Dora.  We can never forget you.
Charmaine & Hillary Candappa.