Brent, Ralph – I am completely serious. I met Jay’s Sri Lankan brother.

While running around Colombo yesterday, Kara and I dropped by Majestic City to buy a new cell phone and look for housewares. We were asking people for “silverware”, a concept that doesn’t translate so well. A sales man in one store took us both by surprise when out of his mouth came perfect English. Kara later said, for reasons beyond her, that I seemed mesmerized by this man.

He had a long face and doned wire framed glasses. He teased Kara when I encouraged her to buy a spatula. “Oh, he wants you to cook him a good meal,” he teased.

In our counter chovanism, Kara and I both hopped at the chance to inform him that I would be cooking with the new spatula. He was delighted, telling me that cooking is a hobby of his as well. “In America, many men cook,” and having met her gender equality quota for the day, she continued shopping as I chatted with our new friend.

His hair was bushy, and just a little on the wild side — unusual for Sri Lankan hair. There was a familiar quality to the glint in his eyes. It was as if he was both absent, yet completly aware. And as he continued telling me about his recent adventures with sushi, each of us sharing horror stories with wasabi, and his run in with bad cockney accents in England, I found myself a bit startled as the connection began to form in my mind.

I miss you Jay, and I wish you well.