Death of a phone

The gold Moto E4 I've had for 5 years had been in decline. It would suddenly freeze and have to be rebooted. People would call and say that they couldn't get through. The Android version was too old to have it sync with my new Fitbit. Finally, yesterday it stopped eating...the battery wouldn't charge. I checked on it many times throughout the day as the charge gradually drained out. In the last hour, I suddenly realized that there were pictures in it I hadn't uploaded anywhere else. So as the final minutes ticked away, I sat with the phone and called up memories of the last five years.

I liked my Moto, it was a very reliable phone. But the camera wasn't the greatest. Also, I'm not really into taking pictures. So it was surprising how much made it into the photo album on my phone..

Five years ago Rashmi was still at U of M doing competitive ballroom dancing. Rahul was still in high school, where, once he decided to get a diploma, he put his mind to studying and got a "turn around" award (picture shows neither event nor trophy, flower pinned to shirt is the clue). That was the same year he got a "student of the month" award at taekwondo. Kil's taekwondo is still around but in a different location. This week we are planning to drop in to see gentle Master Jack and his strict but affectionate wife Mrs. Kittinger.

There was the momentous occasion of Rahul's graduation from high school in 2019. There were preparations for graduation (including buying new shoes and selecting photos to display) with support from sister.

There was the last day of school (Mrs. Gasparotto, the social worker, on the left and Mrs. Mouawad, Rahul's classroom helper, on the right). Mrs. Mouawad was the one who said to me once that parents of disabled children who worry about what will happen to them when the parents are gone will have to depend on the goodness of people. I hold those words like a talisman in my mind every time I worry about what will happen to Rahul in the future...we are making preparations, but nothing will be enough. We will have to depend on the goodness of people.

Rahul got to spend some time with old and current school staff at a pre-graduation visit to his elementary school and at the lunch we organized for school people (Greg Smith, his middle school teacher, Mr. Burrell his middle school social worker and Greg Drozowski, his therapist shown below).

Rahul had been inviting Keith to his graduation party since 2016. On the big day, Keith showed up nicely dressed, enjoyed the new food (I think he's holding samosas to take home in the bag) and didn't forget to give Rahul a generous gift (although he keeps forgetting to bill us for his work).

On graduation day, we got to see Mel Soverinksy, the niece of Rahul's psychiatrist Mark Soverinsky and Rahul got to meet many members of the Soverinsky clan. Mel was in Rahul's school and always willing to answer Rahul's questions about her famiy. When Rahul went on doctor's visits, most of the conversation would be about the Soverinsky family and the doctor found it highly amusing.

There were various birthday's over the years. The first one is from last year but I'm not sure about the others. Rashmi made my earrings and, from the look of it, Rahul made Partha's cake.

There were seasons.

Pandemic days. Rahul turned 21 and had a last visit with his pediatrician Dr. Mary Sue who grew old with me...I first met her when she came to visit newborn Rashmi in the hospital. One day last summer, Andre helped Rahul assemble a chair.

Garden pics.

Thanksgiving at home.

Oscar and Rashmi.

Christmas. Rahul made the card for Dylan as part of the card exchange.

Little visitors. Gungun bounded merrily into our house one evening, helped enthusiastically with the pizza Partha was making and then commanded Rahul "Rahul dada, come and play scrabble." Baby Sandesh trying a somersault...or trying to be like the big, orange rolling ball. A fawn that was left in our yard for a couple of weeks one summer. The mother would come back after a few hours and the baby would run up to her with a hop and a skip and start drinking milk.

The colour purple. It wasn't raining. I just love the clematis vine in front of our house.

More food. Scones made by Rahul. Apple pie and tofu sandwich made by Rashmi.

Some photos of just text. Grandfather's letter to share with extended family. Math explanation for Kutus in India. A random quote. One of many, many shopping lists snapped quicky before rushing off to the store.

India trip last year. Being a visitor, I had the luxury of playing all day and reading books with Budia in Dumdum park. She scolded me for skipping parts of the ছোটদের রামায়ণ and making it up as I went along. Durga Puja in cluster 1. Behind me and Kajal is my mother's neighbour Shipra-di, very quiet and soft spoken but (along with her husband and daughter) the backbone of the neighbourhood, helping everyone with whatever they need. Rahul and pishun in Eco park.

Readers. A rare sight of Rahul reading. When mama visited us from Toronto in 2019, he was confused a lot of the time but he could still read, still have a more or less coherent conversation.

Some unexpected pictures. A neighbourhood picnic organized by me and my then new neighbour Denise (holding the bread). Sadly it was just a one time thing. The pandemic started, we all got busy. We probably communicated more on facebook than in person. Denise and Bob recently moved. Next, a snake visiting a senior rehab center. That was where aunty was before she passed away. I tried to distract her from her fear of death by showing her the snake picture taken outside her room. They sedated her in the end. Hope she dreamed some beautiful dreams and slipped away in comfort. Last, a beautiful little library in a marshy park in Novi. This is the park where Partha goes to photograph sandhill cranes. They glide into the park, in groups, at sunset - a gorgeuos sight. We went there again a few weeks ago but the little library had been replaced. Hope someone took that lovely painted wooden door home.