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Narotambhai Patel

Narotambhai Patel

Sunday, December 8th, 2019
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Service Details

  • Visitation

    Sunday, December 15th, 2019 | 11:00am - 1:00pm
    When
    Sunday, December 15th, 2019 11:00am - 1:00pm
    Location
    Countryside Funeral Home and Crematory, Bartlett
    Address
    950 South Bartlett Road
    Bartlett, IL 60103
    Get Directions: View Map | Text | Email
  • Service

    Sunday, December 15th, 2019 | 11:00am
    When
    Sunday, December 15th, 2019 11:00am
    Location
    Countryside Funeral Home and Crematory, Bartlett
    Address
    950 South Bartlett Road
    Bartlett, IL 60103
    Get Directions: View Map | Text | Email

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HS

Heartfelt Sympathies Store

Posted at 01:10am
Our thoughts and prayers are with you during this difficult time. With deepest sympathy -
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YP

Yashvantbhai N Patel

Posted at 11:54pm

An 'Institution just closed its doors on earth today'.
First heavy rains poured down here in Lusaka, Zambia soon after Nalin told us the sad news, it seems Pappa has blessed us all for the last time, although he won't respond anymore, we can still get through to him by 'Prayer'.. 🙏🏼

_*Om Shanti_*
S

Somu

Posted at 09:10am
My earliest memory of my grandfather is him helping me feed his six Pomeranian puppies in the morning. He would take me to his store and I would play along his side all day. He would let me sign Checks and buy things in the store with them. We would then both sit in the back and eat lunch my mother had sent us. He always insisted she make his meals and I always brought them to him , breakfast, lunch and dinner. I knew what he liked to eat, how particular his food choices were depending on the time of day, and that he never drank water while eating, it was always after he finished his meal. I remember the particular glass he wanted to be served his water in. I remember my mom reminding me every night to set up his utensils and ingredients in a tray for him to make tea in the mornings. In the evenings we would walk together to the sports club. These times we spent together were usually silent as we both shared few words with each other. I slid through the dusty sides of the road and him warning me every once in the while about cars. I revered our relationship, it was silent but understanding, I knew he cared for me. Time flew we went through some rough times, and we hardly spoke when he left for the United States. We barely spoke for three years as long distance phone calls were not feasible for us at the time. Both of us were adjusting to new lives in different environments. When I arrived in the United States I met him again, and we started our relationship afresh. We now spoke as two adults. When my parents visited us here in the states and he saw me and my mum cry while hugging each other as she was leaving soon to go back home. She said to him please check on her and take care of her. My grandfather has since that day made every effort to speak to me once each day or once every couple of days. We may say few words, but he once said your mum assigned me this task and so I must fulfill it. I knew this was his way of showing he loved me and cared and was there for me.
I remember the light in his eyes proudly showing me a tie my brother bought him, other times disappointed in my lack of proper winter attire. I remember shopping with him, he used to check the stitches, feel the fabric, search through colors for a long time before choosing which shirt or pajama pants he wanted to purchase. It had to be almost perfect. I remember him say to me he is your dad but he is my son first no matter what happens he will always be my firstborn, both of us comparing who loved my dad most at the time. I remember him argue with my grandmother that I love him more than I love her. I remember doing garbas with him at my sister’s wedding, such joy he felt and made us feel. I cried watching him dance in my brother’s baraat such happiness was a privilege to see! I felt this surge of happiness seeing my grandfather hold his great grandchildren for the first time. I knew then that my sister and brother had given him a precious gift (their children) , one which he loved unconditionally and whom loved him back unconditionally too.

I have thousands and thousands of moments in my life shared with him.

I know he had many expectations from me, I know I have disappointed him too. I can only endeavor to try harder and hope to fulfill the tasks he left me to do.
I cannot believe he is gone, I feel like someone has placed a brick on my heart and it’s not going away. A flood of memories pass through my mind every minute.
Since his passing I have listened to the numerous voicemails he left on my phone, one in particular from this past July, that says, “Somu jsk, papa speaking, I couldn’t get to the phone in time so it cut off, if you have something to say call me back thank you, bye”. Papa I want to say to you, I love you, I miss you so much, these past two days I’ve seen your things I’ve felt your clothes, I’ve heard your voice but you are not here with me. I hate this time. A reality where your presence is only in memory, It hurts me to no end.
But like the prayer bells you rung every morning in belief of our Gods, I have to believe that your soul will find peace and serenity in the heart of my Bhagwan. Om Shanti Om Shanti Om Shanti.
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