The Soapbox Papers

The Soapbox Papers is my two-cents worth.

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Location: Beloit, Wisconsin, United States

I am a cross between Tinkerbell and Calamity Jane.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Tribute


Those of you who keep up with Techie Kid's blog know it has been a rough week for him. He lost his Pop earlier this week. The picture at the side is one taken when his Pop - known to many as Rocky - was Taran's age.

He didn't look like this in recent years. He'd lost much of his hair and may or may not have had a beard - he could grow one on a whim whenever he wanted, as Taran can. What hair and/or beard there was was no longer dark. He'd lost most of his excess weight and his face was thinner, but the forehead and brow were the same, and the smile -- well, I don't know that it would have been the same. The picture to the side was taken at the best of times. I will always remember him this way. There was always a gentleness to his smile, and it always went without explanation. I knew him well once, and I can say with all confidence, I doubt anyone knew me as well as Mahin did. It amazes me still at how well he knew me, and how he loved me anyway. In this picture, Mahin had much to smile at. Life was good to us. We had Taran - his only child and the one person in the Universe he would always love with a fierce and all-encompassing love.


At the time that picture was taken, we were living the Great American Dream - we had our kid, the house, complete with garden in the back, the car, the pick-up truck, the dog and --we had our troubles, mostly concerning extended family members or those not in our immediate household (yet) - but we spent time together, had fun together, and, as in the Turtle's song that he called "our song," we were Happy Together.










It was good. So good, in fact, that though we have been apart longer than we were together, we were still friends. I could count on him still to understand me, and I know he was aware that I understood him, too. I will miss him deeply, just knowing he was there at the other end of an e-mail, his eyebrow raised, his humor, though a bit slower, still intact.





Mahin and Taran (below, 2000?) always understood the other's feelings, if not one another's point of view. Rather -- they often understood where the other was coming from -- just didn't agree with all the details. They are more alike than different in many respects, and fom the beginning until even recently I felt the need to try to explain one of them to the other -- trying to get them to do the impossible: understand one another.


That they already did on some level wasn't lost on me - I just wanted to know they were close for my own sake, I guess. Mothers are like that. We never quite give up.

Goodbye, Mr. Mahindranath Taran Pande Rampersad. You were appreciated and loved and you will always be remembered with the warmth and gentleness you radiate in these pictures.





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