Jennu Daniel Pinto
If I only had five minutes the day you passed away, I would have had time to tell you all the things I needed to say. I never got to tell you how much you mean to me Or that you were the best, better than anyone could be. The last time I talked to you, I wish I would have known. I would have said I love you and kept you on the phone. If I only had five minutes the morning you passed away, I’d give you one last hug so tight and see your great big smile. I’d tell you that I don’t think I could live without you, not even for a while. I’d kiss your cheek and take your hand and tell you it’s okay to go And tell you that I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know. But you were gone so quickly. One last car ride you’d take. Before you even knew it, you were standing at heaven’s gate. Now God has called upon you. It’s time to get your wings, To leave this life behind you, And enjoy all of heaven’s beautiful things. So wait for me in heaven. Don’t let me come alone. The day the angels come for me, Please be there to bring me home. - Annmarie Campbell
Jennu Daniel Pinto was the fourth of five children born to Helen Pereira and John Pinto. He was a spirited man who marched to the beat of his own drum. Despite never having children of his own, he cared for his nieces and nephews like they were his own children. He adored them and loved them unconditionally. He was admired by his family and idolized by his friends. We hope you knew how much you were loved. Today marks one month since you have been gone. Some days, we can accept that you are in a better place; other days, it’s not so easy. The shock still resonates like an echo. The hole in our heart aches when we want to bombard you with pictures of our cat or when Mai wants to call you to tell you about her day. Even though you are no longer with us, you left a mark on all of us—a mark that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives. We see you in the way Nick walks and shies away from strangers, in the overwhelming empathy Dielle has for animals, and in my bold sense of humor and wit. We think about you every day—we laugh at good times and tear up knowing those were our last ones with you. I hope you know, to me, you will always be my favorite uncle. The one that took me on long scooter rides, the one that protected me when I was getting scolded, and the one who made me laugh until my sides hurt. I remember when I wandered away from you and needed to find you so I asked the watchman in my horribly, incorrect Kannada “Where is the man in the blue shirt?” He shrugged and I thought I was lost forever, but then you appeared to save me. One day, when it is my time, I will again look for the man in the blue shirt the same way I looked for you when I was young.
Lastly, we want to express our heartfelt gratitude to our family and friends in Chikmagalur for showing up at a moment’s notice to care for our Jennu uncle when he passed. We would also like to thank the priest, Fr. Anthony Pinto, who conducted the funeral service. Together, they planned a beautiful ceremony and gave him a sendoff that many of us could only hope for especially during these difficult times.
From:
Rachel, Dielle, Nick, Veena and John Crasta and Helen Pinto