It Chooses You - Miranda July [6]
Miranda:
And can you tell me your earliest memory?
Primila:
Yes. I was two years old. I was traveling on a ship from Bombay to England. It was like a big doll’s house. In those days people didn’t fly, they went by cruise liners. I was just two and I can remember so clearly. My name is Primila, but I would tell everyone my name is Mrs. Haggis. I don’t know why or how. My mom tells the story of how this little girl – I had ringlets – there would be a group around me saying, “What’s your name, little girl?” And I’d say, “Mrs. Haggis.” I insisted that was my name.
I’d never even eaten haggis, so I don’t know where it – or maybe I’d heard about haggis and I thought, you know, that’s an English dish.
Primila showed me around her house. It was immaculate and girlish, with white carpet and arrangements of large dolls dressed in frilly dresses. And though she knew I wasn’t a reporter or anyone of consequence, she began to tell me about herself the way Michael had, as if this interview really mattered. It occurred to me that everyone’s story matters to themselves, so the more I listened, the more she wanted to talk.
Primila:
I write poems with a theme or a message. “Each Day Is a Gift” was a theme. Then after Thanksgiving I wrote “Ten Reasons to Be Thankful.” There’s another one, “Look for the Rainbow” – because I’ve had so many things happen and I try always to still be upbeat and positive, no matter what. I lost my sister very tragically to cancer years ago. She had fourth-stage colon cancer. She was thirty-five years old with four little kids. They wouldn’t give her the visa to come to America, and she was in the last month. I talked to the embassy in India and every time it was no, no, because they didn’t believe it – she looked so healthy and so they didn’t believe.
It was Thanksgiving here in America. So the next day I woke up and I said I’m going to call the top official. His name was Tom Fury, I still remember. And they’d never let you through. It was all this hierarchy of people. Finally he came on the phone and I said, “Mr. Fury, I just want to tell you one thing. If my sister doesn’t make it, I’ll be at peace because I’ve done everything I can. And she knows how much we love her.” But I said, “Whoever has been instrumental in denying her this last opportunity will have to live with that for the rest of their lives and will have to answer for that on the Day of Reckoning.” That’s all I said, and “Thank you so much.” And this had been going on for three months, not granting the visa.
At 2 a.m. the phone rang. It was my mom in India. “Primila, you won’t believe this. The embassy called. They’ve granted the visa to the whole family.” And when my brother went down to get the visa, they said this had never happened before in the history of the embassy.
She passed away on December 24. We buried her on December 31 at Forest Lawn. Then I kept her children and raised them. So whatever happens, I always try to share things that we can learn from what happens in our lives, how we can help others.
Miranda:
And what do you do for a living?
Primila:
I’m director of rehabilitation at a hospital. I’ve worked there twenty-three years. I’m so passionate about my work that in twenty-three years I’ve never had an unscheduled absence. I never picked up and said, “I’m not coming in today.” But today I locked my door – I always lock my bedroom door when my husband’s in India – and I realized my purse was still inside with the car key. I didn’t know what to do. I went up and I shook the door. It wouldn’t open. So I thought, What do I do? Let me call my son. My son tells me, “Mom, you’ve never called in sick. I’m busy. Maybe today’s the first time in your life – you have a reason: you don’t have a car.” I said, “Are you kidding? I would never do that.” The day I drop dead I won’t show up at work. So I went up again and I just shook the door and I managed to budge it.
Miranda:
You broke down the door?
Primila:
Yes.
Primila took us upstairs and showed us the door, hanging