On Friday December 3, my grandfather passed away in Sri Lanka at 98 years old. He was the eldest of 8 siblings (4 of which were half siblings). My grandfather is survived by his wife, 6 children, 10 grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren. Born in 1923, My grandpa was a chemist that took great pleasure in his work. He felt a deep duty and responsibility to his family, both immediate and extended. He did whatever he could to help others, both back when he was a man of some privilege in Sri Lanka and here in Canada. In Sri Lanka, his job allowed for him to work in a variety of places, including with the United Nations. He would travel globally to give speeches and share his expertise. He was fluent in a variety of languages, including English and Latin. Actually, like many men his age he studied in English bc Sri Lanka was then colonized by the British- as a result, he never formally learnt how to write Tamil. When he came to Canada he started a tutoring service and helped teach young ones for over a decade and a half. He was a gifted teacher, and it warms my heart to think of how many people benefited from his brilliance here in Canada. He kept a picture of my sister and I at his desk. He celebrated every success we had. He loved mutton and fish curry. Whenever we visited he would insist we ate, specifically, he would want to hand feed food to my sister and I. He took such pleasure in doing so, even when he was super old and pretty frail in his 90s. Growing up, whenever I would run into a relative, they’d know about any recent good grades or awards I had won. My grandfather would call and tell relatives about how well I was doing in school or something I had done on student council. He would travel back and forth to Sri Lanka over the years, but when he went back to Sri Lanka in 2018, he confided in me that he was going back to die. He spoke to me like we wouldn’t see each other again, and he was right. I will miss him dearly.