I lost my father on 14th May 2009, and we just had his funeral on Wednesday
the 20th just gone.
The sadness still hangs heavy on my heart, but I take comfort from the
fact that his suffering has ended and he is finally at peace. I can
safely say that I would not be where I am today if it was not for my
father's love, hard work and support. He made me everything that I am
today, and I will always live my life to his standards forever more.
Goodbye Dad - I will always miss you terribly. I hope you heard me in
your last hours when I told you how much I loved you and how proud I was
of you. I hope you spirit felt and heard the hundreds of people who
came to your funeral and told us how you had such a powerful impact on
their lives. I can only hope to have 1% of that impact on others during
my own time on this planet.
I said before that Dad was my inspiration, my rock, and my role model.
I will endeavour to immortalise your spirit by teaching my kids about
how you lived your life.
Note: The first picture on this photo stream of Dad's life is possibly
my favourite picture ever - of my wife dancing with my Dad at our
wedding on 10th August 1996.
Below are the first 4 eulogies from Dad's funeral. The first was by me,
followed by my nephew Edward Wilson, who was Dad's first grandchild,
then my wife's piece, and finally a piece said by my son Jordan, who
insisted on making a speech at the funeral. They are all his own words,
without any coaching or editing by us at all.
Eulogy #1 - Devan Sabaratnam, on behalf of the Sabaratnam kids
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Welcome everybody, to this celebration of the life of Dr. Jegathesan
Sabaratnam. I can see by the many faces here, some that I do not
recognise, that Dad has certainly touched the lives of many, many people
in this world.
You know, it has been quite hard growing up Darwin for my sisters and I
to forge our own identities within this community. Almost every single
day, someone will come up and say "Hey, You're Dr. Sabby's Son", or
"You're Dr. Sabby's Daughter" to us. This is despite the fact he
retired from practice nearly 10 years ago! I believe that I will always
be known as "Dr. Sabby's Son" for the rest of my life. But such is life
for those of us who have to walk in the footsteps of such a giant as Dad
was.
They say that for all of us who move through life, the effect is like a
pebble tossed into a pond. The ripples of our lives radiate out and
touch other lives, often without us being aware of it. In Dad's case,
his life was a bit like tossing an elephant into a pond. The ripples of
his life have extended out further than even he could have imagined, and
touched so many countless lives. Not just touched fleetingly, but
touched in a deeply profound and positive way.
I would like to talk today about some of the lessons that my dad taught
us. I mean, he taught us hundreds of lessons, but I thought I would
distil that down to 5 key points that my mum, my sisters and I will
carry with us through life.
Lesson 1 - Dedication & Sacrifice for Family
Not many people knew that Dad was the eldest of 12 children in his
family, and as such, was responsible for the care and raising of his
siblings in a big way. In his younger days, it meant simply ensuring
that they all got ready for school on time and they all did their
chores, but later in life this extended to sending his brothers and
sisters money so that they could improve their lives or give his nephews
and nieces a good education. This continued right up until his passing.
This lesson was again highlighted in 1978, when Dad decided to leave
Malaysia where he had a fantastic career and social recognition, to
emigrate to Australia and start with absolutely nothing - just so that
he could provide better educational and career prospects for his
children in this country. That is a sacrifice that not many people
would make in the middle of their lives.
Lesson 2 - Compassion For Others
No job can be more compassionate than delivering newborns into this
world, but Dad also taught us to show compassion for everyone around us
at all times. For example - Dad was a young boy of 10, living in Malaysia during the
Japanese occupation in World War II. He used to tell us the tale of how
he used to watch British and Australian POW's put to work repairing
bridges and railway tracks under horrendous conditions. Dad and his
friend used to hide among the trees or cliff tops and drop food bundles
and biscuits down to the starving POW's. Even though he knew that
discovery by the Japanese sentries would mean instant death.
Later in the war, when the Allies recaptured Malaya and the tables were
turned, he would do exactly the same for the Japanese POW's who were
labouring away. To him it wasn't about choosing sides, but helping out
anybody who was in need.
Lesson 3 - Stop & Have A Laugh
Those that knew Dad professionally, might not realise that he had quite
a wicked sense of humour. I mean, he took his work very seriously, but
that didn't mean that he couldn't lighten up and enjoy a good laugh. He
always enjoyed a good laugh. You should hear about some of the pranks
that he got up to during his college days - but I won't go into those
now. Come and see me at the wake later and I will let you know some of
them.
Even very recently, when he had lost the ability to move his arms and
legs, and lost the power of speech, I could always get a good chuckle
out of him by telling him the silly things that his grandkids had said
and done, or by teasing mum in front of him.
I hope I have inherited some of his sense of humour. I find it hard to
be totally serious about anything - even funeral speeches!
Lesson 4 - Constant Learning
Dad was by far the smartest person I ever knew. All of my relatives
used to tell me what a brilliant, straight "A" student Dad was. I
didn't believe them. After all, that is an impossibly high standard
that nobody could consistently achieve. That is, until I was going
through a cupboard one day and found his old report cards from school.
I was gobsmacked to see that he actually had a straight A+ average all
through his schooling years.
It was this academic excellence that won him the Colombo Plan
scholarship while he was studying medicine at the University of Adelaide
- I believe he was one of the first six students ever that was awarded
that scholarship by the Australian Government in 1952.
Dad always encouraged us to learn new things all the time. To him, if
you were standing still, then you were moving backwards. Even after
retirement, he devoted his massive brain to learning about computers,
the internet and share trading. Had he not had a stroke and the
associated physical impairment, I think he would have got himself
another degree in a totally different field from medicine.
In fact, in honour of his love of learning, Dad is today wearing his
graduation cloak that he wore in 1957 when he graduated from his beloved
Adelaide University.
Lesson 5 - Dedication To Your Life's Work
The last lesson Dad taught us, was how to be totally dedicated to your
purpose in life. For those of us who have had babies, we know that they
can arrive according to their own timetable, not ours.
Dad was constantly getting up in the middle of the night, or in the
middle of family functions to go off and attend a delivery or an
emergency. Sometimes two or three in one night. Then he would have to
go to work the next morning and do his normal consulting and hospital
rounds during the day.
Not once during all the years did I ever hear him complain about this
fact, or hear him wish for another career. To him, delivering babies
was what he was put on earth for. The 10,000th baby that he brought
into this world was just as special as the first one. He truly loved
his work.
These are the lessons our father taught us. And these are the lessons
that we in turn will endeavour to pass on to our own kids. In this way,
we will immortalise the spirit of Dr. Sabby.
Eulogy #2 - Edward Wilson (16), Jega's first grandchild
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Jegathesan Sabaratnam. My grandfather, and undoubtedly one of the most
influential people in my life. Over the years, I spent a lot of time
with my grandparents, as all my family is very close. I will never
forget what he meant to me, and to everyone else.
I remember my grandmother, Ranie, telling me the story of when I was
born, and how quickly he rushed to see me. They say he made it up the
stairs at the private hospital in record time.
Whilst spending time with him when growing up, he taught me many things
including golf, chess and some lessons on life I'll never forget. I
even remember a small model engine we built together. I took it to
school one day to show all my friends. I still have the engine in my
room, and I don't plan of getting rid of it.
Lately in life, I have been asked what I want to be when I leave school.
So I started to think, and I remembered all the stories my family told
me about my grandfather, most of them I was told from my grandma, and
they were always about how he was top of the class, how he always tried
his hardest. Then it came to me. I was going to carry on his legacy
and study in the area of medicine.
However, something that saddens me is that the fact that he had tried
hard all his life and never gave up, he was extremely successful, but as
soon as it came time for him to retire and enjoy his life, everything
started happening - all the strokes, cancer, minor heart attacks etc.
And he suffered. He suffered for years and years. It wasn't fair. If
I had to take a guess as to why he wanted to keep on living, as to why
he would endure all the suffering, I honestly think it was to see his
children and grandchildren grow and prosper like he intended them to.
Everything I'm doing now, I am doing in memory of my grandfather.
Jegathesan Sabaratnam. A legend, saviour and good friend in many
people's eyes. He will never be forgotten, and will forever be loved
and missed.
Eulogy #3 - Samantha Sabaratnam, My wife
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Jega, your story will always be legendary in our family. I look at the
photo of you as a little boy and I feel the power of that gaze, which
you kept, even after every physical ability had left. You seem to be
saying: "I know what I have to do." Without wealth or easy
opportunities and the expectations of so many on your shoulders you made
the dream a reality that for many of us limps along, easily distracted
and difficult to grasp. You will always inspire us.
I will never forget how you accepted me into the family and how your
whole body shook when you laughed. We had so many jokes about the dowry
- I was so relieved when you finally accepted that photo of a goat!
Your cultural broadmindedness was just one of the ways you expressed
your love and appreciation for people as individuals.
I think it made you very happy when your son chose the keyboard over the
scalpel - it gave you an excuse to indulge your great love of technology
and gadgetry. Your intelligence was remarkable in this field, and you
appreciated what Devan was doing. It was wonderful listening to the two
of you bantering in tech talk - more like partners in crime than father
and son.
I will never forget your immense joy at becoming a grandfather and how
that helped us to embrace the challenges of parenthood.
You never compromised personal dignity to prove a point, or raised your
voice to gain stature. You showed me how people lean in to hear softly
spoken intelligence and naturally gravitate towards a kind heart.
You had such high personal expectations for yourself and such simple
ones for us. It has always been and always will be, an honour to share
your name.
Eulogy #4 - Jordan-Ravi Sabaratnam (9), My son
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Gung, you have taught me millions of things. I would be a very strange
person without you. You have helped me know the other side of the world
and to not be stressed.
I will never forget you and hope you will be with me my whole life. You
are one of the most interesting people I have ever met. You were a lot
of fun to be around.
Lots of love, from your grandson Jordan.
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