obituary Tag

Flowers surrounded the casket, and the casket was open. My grandmother Joginder Kaur looked like a doll-version of herself, a deep-pink chunni draped over still-black hair, her smile serene. We granddaughters spoke in turn, holding one another when tears caught in our throats. I read her a letter. DEAREST MUMMY JI, I’m having trouble, we’re all having trouble, finding the right words to offer you today. Words never seem enough when remembering someone you love, but words especially fall short to honor you. I think this is because your

Joginder Kaur Gill, our sweet “Mummy Ji,” died surrounded by all her children and grandchildren at the age of 81 on Friday night. Mummy Ji was born on October 22, 1929 to Hardial Singh and Pritam Kaur in Patiala in Punjab, British India.  She married Captain Gurdial Singh Gill on October 10, 1945 (pictured), raised her family, and eventually followed them to Clovis, CA.  Mummy Ji lived a disciplined and spiritual life.  She began and ended her day with God’s Name, read the newspaper daily, and sang prayers

Today was Papa Ji's funeral. His wisdom and love made me who I am -- and inspired Divided We Fall. I stood before his casket adorned with flowers, where his face shone regal in a red turban, and gazed out at a hundred people who had gathered in the small chapel. I never write down what I will say before an audience, but today, I knew I needed to draw courage from words on paper.  I clutched the pages and spoke through the tears: My Beautiful Papa Ji, In the beginning, there