I knew Aunty Rani for almost 30 years and these are my experiences with her. Aunty showed her love more through action than words. Whether it was making sure you had eaten, slipping you something sweet - she just loved her chocolates and kept boxes of it in her room which she brought out when she wanted you to know that you were special - or praying quietly for you before a big moment in life. She was so stylish and always particular in the way she presented herself. I remember her dressed in an elegant sari going to church service on Sundays smelling of sandalwood powder and her favourite 4711 cologne. Family was her life. Each grandchild held a special place in her heart and she was always so proud of their achievements. She never missed a chance to pray for them—before exams, interviews, decisions, and life’s challenges. Almost to the very end, she would get up early morning to pray and watch Sunday mass on her phone. Her generosity was endless. When her grandson came home for the holidays she cooked his favourite mutton curry although standing for long was painful with her arthritis. Every time I visited her in hospital the last time she was there, she would say “I must make chicken curry for you. I’ll make it once I get home ok”. Or “it’s so hot outside, I’m troubling you, why did you come to see me when it’s so hot.” It was her way of showing she cared, and saying “I love you” without actually saying the words. Aunty lived—and passed—with the same grace and dignity that defined her entire life. We will miss you deeply aunty, your quiet strength, and your endlessly giving heart. You were the heart of your family and your love lives on in all of us. Rest in peace.