Since last year I have been going to the Melrose Abbey cemetery every Saturday afternoon to put fresh flowers on Maliha’s grave, and to have a chat with her – giving her the latest updates on the life and times without her. Often I am accompanied by my daughter, Alia. We take two folding chairs along to sit and think of all the ways in which she used to make our lives better. It has been nearly a year, and we are still discovering things she used to do, that now go undone.
It was several years ago when she declared to me: “I am going to have a scrabble club in which we will all be friends.” “Impossible,” I told her. “First of all, you can’t be friendly to your competitors. Second, beyond a certain age, people don’t make new friends.” She looked at me, as if to say – like Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady, “You just wait, Henry Higgins, you just wait.”
Well, she proved me wrong. This was only one of many seemingly impossible things she accomplished during the 52 years we spent together. She loved people, and she loved birthday celebrations.
Thanks to all of you for keeping her in your hearts.