Appa, where can I reach you?

Dear Appa,
As your time nears, I have come to realize what you mean to me. Today, I want to tell you - you mean the world to me.

You have always been interested every day to find out how my day has gone by. You have fidgeted and frowned each time I have fallen sick, goading me to go to the doctor ... you even resorted to threatening me to see a doctor when I would not listen to you. I know you wished well for me each time you said that...And there have been several instances when I have not listened to you at all - and have been as obnoxious as a weed.

When there are festivals, you always are in the fore front to celebrate them. Never made me feel the absence of my mother-in-law. You took the kitchen by storm to cook the most sumptous puliogarai or kesari bath... how can we ever forget the all famous semiya payasam? "Payasa madidre munnu maama taraha madabeku" goes the adage in our family circles :P

How can I forget Srikrishna janmashtami celebrations? Pulling down the table, you sit right in the middle of the living room decorating the "santum sanctorum" to keep the diety with mango leaves, fruits and all delicious things I would prepare? How many times have you offered to buy them from the shop ready-made when you saw me taking the strain to cook all those things at home? Times when you have been so proud of your bahu for understanding your traditions and preparing all the delicacies at home...

Today I proudly tell my family - I learnt cooking from appa. All the praises and accolades from relatives over my cooking testify that I have been a good student.

Being a foodie, you have always loved good home-cooked food. Perhaps I have always known this deep in my heart. Which is why each time they serve kajjaya, semiya payasam or puliogarai at office, I have called you to tell you about it. And you have always told me "Why dont you get some home?". Sadly, each time, I have responded "I cannot get it home, appa. It is part of lunch at Office".

Now I realize, I could have at least tried to get some of it home - if I had paid a price, which I would not have minded. May be I would have succeeded in fullfilling your wishes...
Today, as I called you home once more to tell you about the sumptuous puliogarai that was served as part of the special meal, my eyes were moist... Very soon, I truly would not know where to call you and how to reach you.....

Appa, do you really have to leave us and go?