The first heirloom in my newly-wed family is a silken patchwork sash of reds and pinks, lovingly designed, artfully stitched, brought into being by a chain of love.
Sonja helped me create this emblem of love and of my Chinese heritage for my wedding last summer. She enlisted her dear friend, artist Eileen Belmont to help sew and design it. Last June, when I texted Mequitta a photo of a beautiful patchwork sash I’d found online, asking, “How hard do you think it would be to make something like this?”, I had forgotten that Mequitta’s gift of patchwork was learned from her mom. So it was a surprise when Mequitta said that her mom had offered to help. Knowing that Sonja was ill, I did not want to trouble her, but Mequitta assured me that it would make her mom happy to be a part of it. Mequitta helped me see that for Sonja to help me was also an act of love for Mequitta. This sash represents a chain of deep deep love. More than a chain, maybe an energy wave? Where the love is so deep, it encompasses the beloved’s love. Mequitta is one of my nearest and dearest friends, and through her I was granted the generosity of Sonja’s love. Through Sonja I was granted the generosity of Eileen’s love. Through us all run the threads of Sonja’s strength, wisdom, creativity and deep insight. The making of the sash happened at a most unlikely time, and its timing reflects the kind of generosity and integrity that Sonja embodied. In late June, Sonja, Mequitta and I started chatting about the sash and the possibility of making it. Sonja was so kind and supportive of me, chatting with me over FaceTime about what I hoped for, offering her perspective ever so gently, emailing back and forth about fabric ideas, and enlisting her dear friend Eileen, an accomplished textile artist, to help design and make the sash. When Sonja’s surgery was rescheduled for late July, I had only just sent the fabrics to Connecticut. I figured the timing might not work out to make the sash in time for our August wedding- as of course the sash should not be a priority compared to the prep or recovery of the surgery. I hoped fervently that the recovery process would be smooth for Sonja. When Sonja wrote to me, just 11 days after the surgery, that the sash was ready, I was floored. I couldn’t believe she was reaching out to me, taking care of this gift, when she had just had such a major surgery. When Sonja sent the sash to me in a special cloth bag she herself sewed after her surgery, I was moved to tears. What an extraordinary generosity, and enormous heart, that Sonja followed through on this gift even in the midst of recovering from major surgery. What extraordinary love, that Eileen followed through on this gift even in the midst of Sonja going through major surgery. I am so grateful to have experienced this generosity of love that Sonja embodied, that Mequitta nurtures, that Eileen emanates. It is incredibly precious to have this love expressed in such a beautiful physical form that will be a part of my family heritage ever onward.
0 Comments
Friday, May 15, 2020
MY MAMA SONJA We refer to someone as a “cancer survivor” because they are alive, and in remission. I think of my mother, Sonja, as a cancer survivor not because she still lives (though she does, in my heart) but because she never gave in to cancer. Because she always fought, and kept living – and living fully – for as long as she possibly could. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I suppose I’m stating the obvious when I say that I deeply miss my mother, will always miss her, and that she was a special and remarkable woman who will stay with us always. I keep recalling a visit a couple months back with one of Mama’s friends. We all met for a smoothie. It was about a 40-minute drive, which Mama had initially planned to do on her own. I joined partially because I wanted to, but also partially because this seemed quite a jaunt with her (physical) limitations… I needn’t have worried. Halfway there, Mama got a call from another friend, with whom she hadn’t spoken in awhile, and who was having a difficult time. She took it on speaker-phone so she could keep driving. She was excited to chat. So here she is, my mother, with Stage 4 cancer and all these physical difficulties, driving along and advising her friend. Saying it’s more important to her to hear what’s up with her friend’s life and health than to talk about her own life. Expressing concern for her friend’s health and living situation. Positing ideas to help her friend continue working on things she enjoys and that offer her freedom and flexibility (in her current situation). “Look,” Mama says to her friend, “I could literally spend the whole day in bed if I wanted. But I can’t allow myself to do that. I’m not dead yet. And as long as I’m here, I’m going to keep doing the things that matter to me.” A minute later, we walk into the smoothie restaurant. A little later on, as we enjoyed our smoothie with another friend, Mama talked energetically about how meetings like this kept her going, about training the next generation to carry on the work of social justice, about connecting her 2 friends with each other. It was a lovely afternoon, and I’m so thankful to have joined in. My mother was a great friend… Both to me and to her own friends and community. She operated from a place of positivity, of exploring and learning to find one’s own gifts, of valuing everybody. And that, perhaps, was one of her greatest gifts… developing others. (Or rather, helping others to develop themselves. Giving them confidence.) There is so much that I’ve learned from my mother – from Mama Sonja. A few things stand out to me right now:
We miss you, Mama. We love you. We always will. And we are so blessed that – for 70 years – you were here with us. We know you still are. Love, Thaytia
My name is Sean Mosley. I am an educator in Waterbury, Connecticut. I am very saddened by the physical loss of Sonja. I first met Sonja while participating in a nonprofit work group in Waterbury focused on equity and diversity. During that time I came to know Sonja as a mature, considerate, and compassionate force. As our group’s facilitator, Sonja was able to effectively manage the flow of ideas and personalities in the room and went out of her way to make sure everyone’s voice was heard and that everyone was valued, and respected. Recently, unaware of her declining health, I reached out to Sonja to serve again as a facilitator for the Connecticut Education Association’s Ethnic Minority Affairs Commission to help us review and refine our strategic plan. At that time she informed me she was having health challenges but would be willing to come in and support our efforts. Only on the night of the meeting she attended I became aware of just how serious her condition was. Despite her limited capacity, Sonja was just as dynamic as I had known her to be in our previous experience...so much so that the other commissioners were emphatic about her considering coming back to work with us in the future. While Sonja is no longer with us physically, her spirit will always live on in the social justice and equity work that I, along with my colleagues, do. With love, Sean M. Mosley Sonja...what words would describe this beautiful soul. Grace , warm, sensible, loving, smiling, positive...I could go on..
We were blessed to have known Sonja for almost 40 years. I remember the first time I met her at Leena Kishore‘s home at a Diwali party. There were about 20..25 guests and I did not know most of the them..but soon I was drawn towards Sonja. We chatted easily and I couldn’t help thinking ..this is one sweet content soul. Sonja was someone I could talk to easily. She never judged..she accepted everyone as they were and flashed her beautiful smile pretty much always. If someone was grounded and strong yet gentle...it was Sonja. Her cooking was different from any other. She made Indian food..but it was different from the usual Indian cooking. It had the Sonja touch..easy on spices but oozing with fresh flavor and ofcourse the love she poured into her cooking. Sonja shared innumerable recipes with me..she never forgot to send them across. Sadly I lost them all during our home renovation a few years ago. We didn’t meet often..as it meant at least 2 plus hours of driving. And I often told Narain..if Sonja/Gullu and Leena/Kishore lived near us..I would never feel lost for good friends. When we met Sonja in the hospital in NYC..in Jan of this year I think..she smiled and welcomed us into her hospital room. There was Gullu..by her side as always.. One could not tell that Sonja had and was going through so much..she smiled and chatted away like old times. This is who Sonja was..always content, peaceful and always in gratitude. I hope I have imbibed some of that. We will always always miss this beautiful soul. Love you Sonja..yesterday, today and always. Gullu you have not just your beautiful family around you to love you and be there for you but also us..and hope you know you can call us anytime. Miss u darling beautiful Sonja Be in peace. -Indu Gehani It’s hard to sum up a woman of such depth as Sonja. Polarities come to mind: elegant and down to earth...fierce and gentle...descriptive and quiet...calm and intense...serious and funny. Always coming from a place of love and making us all better. Missing her. ~Elizabeth Olson I believe that the measure of our lives is the imprint we leave behind through the people we touch and the people they touch and so on. For me, that is what the concept of eternal life means: we live on through the people we impact. Which to me then means Sonja led a truly extraordinary life and that she will surely live on for an eternity. I am a person changed for the better for knowing her. And her atoms of warmth, kindness, thoughtfulness, love, generosity are sprinkled throughout PPSNE, helping us be who we say we be and extending to the nearly 80,000 people every year that we care for who get to feel her impact, like the ripple from a stone tossed in water. And that is just from her work with us. There is Sonja everywhere, given how many people have had the opportunity to work with, be friends with, or even simply know Sonja. I will miss her earthly self, but she will always be with us.
-Amanda Skinner I am heartbroken to hear that Sonja has passed on. Just weeks ago we were texting about getting together in the near future and just enjoy the sun and the water by the Savin Rock beach in West Haven where we spent times sitting, talking and enjoying seafood. Sonja became a very special friend whom I will miss dearly. I will miss her gentle, loving, caring and calming spirit. Rest in peace my friend and sister, ~Barbara Fair
In this photograph, you can see that my mother is close to death. I took this picture on April 25, 2020, and my mother died of Uterine Cancer on May 3, 2020. June would have marked my parents’ fiftieth anniversary. This photograph depicts my mother’s state - diminished in body, exhausted, but also steeped in love. My parents were an unmatched pair in many respects, an interracial couple, she tall, he short, him extroverted, her an introvert. One of the songs that captured the complexity of their match was “Close Enough for Love.” The blue light at the bottom of the picture is from my Dad’s phone as he played a recording of the song. The camera is an intrusive instrument, but also, it can create the moment one aims to record. I knew we were close to the end of our time together. “Mama,” I said, “I want to make your portrait.” Mom, head bent toward her lap, read a short story. Dad was on the other side of the table, head also down but in the opposite direction. I tried for a composition of their grey heads angling away from each other. Dad glanced over. I snapped that too. “Dad,” I said, “look at Mom again.” Dad gazed at Mom as I took pictures. “How did I find you?” “An unmatched pair,” Mom said, and soon, Dad had come around to the other side of the table, the song trailing up from his half-open hand, “Close enough for love.” The camera had brought about the intimacy of the moment, so though it felt strange, I pressed and released the shutter. -mequitta ahuja Sonja has had such impact on my life and my partner's life. We met at BD101 and she worked with me at Planned Parenthood and met Jeremy through Common Ground High School. She was there to hold all the space for me when I needed space the most. I have multiple palm stones on my alter from her space holding. In fact many things on my alter can be traced back to her in some way. I am sending love and space in this time. ~Erin Livensparger
Sonja's Common Phrases: please add to the list.
"Me and God are good." "What's really going on?" "Feel your feelings" "What's showing up for you?" "Children pick the parents they are born to" "All children have special needs." "It's All Good." and "All is well." "When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple." "No pressure." "We are the lucky ones." "They say live each day as if it is your last. I say, live each day as if it is your first." "Everything I know, I learned from my children." "Very easily done." To her children: "You come by it honestly" |