Threads of Memory
Threads of Memory A Jayasinghe Family Memoir Denzil Jayasinghe 17 min read · 1 hour ago For Natasha, Roshin, Durand, and Roanna — and for all the generations that follow Prologue: The Weight of Heirlooms I stand in my home in Sydney, thousands of kilometres from where these stories began, holding a brass bell that once belonged to my father, Don Thomas Jayasinghe. He used it in his office to summon messengers, its sharp ring cutting through the humid Ceylon air. Beside it sits a jewellery casket that belonged to my paternal grandmother, Dona Barbara Saram — a woman who lost her husband when my father was just an adolescent, who ran a shop to support her family, who stored not wealth but hope in this small wooden box. I did not collect these items. My parents preserved them in our ancestral home, and I, like many youths, did not care for them then. But when my parents passed away, mortality whispered its truth: we are temporary, but our stories need not be. I brought these golden nugget...