A spoke to Sr Shushila probably a month ago. She did not
have any mobile phone. She requested a nun to give me a call. She spoke a lot…a
lot. She wanted to speak more. I allowed her to speak. She asked me, how do I
feel? What do I eat? When do I pray? How is my health? How is my study…She wanted
to get my mobile number and expressed her desire to talk to me more often. At
the end of the conversation she passed on to the nun, who informed me that Sr
Shushila was just diagnosed with cancer and she is in her advantaged stage.
Then just a week ago, I called the same nun who knew Sr
Shushila well. On receiving my call, she said in a sober voice, “why did not you
call all these days? Sr Shushila was desperately looking for a chance to talk
to you. She wanted to tell you so many things.”
“Please take your phone to her. I wanted to talk to her.” I
said hurriedly.
“It is too late. She has been senseless and she cannot recognize
anyone for the last three days” she said and wept.
And today I got the news of her passing away…She has gone to
her Divine spouse, her Master, whom she served so faithfully. I will always
regret of not talking to her for the last time. I could not hear her last word.
She will never tell me, Ripon tumi bhalo
father hoye thakbe shobsomoy (Ripon be a good priest all the time).
Sr Shushila was not known to me for many years. She was in
her early eighties and I was in my early thirties. I still remember the day,
when I met her for the first time. After the holy mass, she came to me and
asked me to visit a sick person with her. I happily agreed. From then onwards,
she would always inform me about the sick people and asked me to visit. I would
often visit sick people with her. She knew all the sick people of the parish. She
was also aware of the problems of the people and tried to help them, whenever
she could. She would love to be with the people.
Then she got transferred. But she never forgot me. She would
always come to visit me. She would call me from other’s mobile phone and tell
me to be a prayerful and holy priest. The last word she uttered to me was to be
a holy priest. Just before leaving for Bangladesh, I met her and spoke. She was
telling me again and again that she would die before I return to the country.
That day I did not realize how true were her words.
She died on the Mother’s Day. She was truly a mother to me. She
taught me how to love the poor and sick people.
I am convinced that she is in heaven and she is praying for
me. Adieu Sr Shushila! We will meet again…
