"You look a lot like your achchi did when she was your age," I remember I was once told at a party. The expression caught me by surprise, not because of the resemblance but because I never thought of Mallika De Mel as my achchi. I never thought of my grandmother as a frail, elderly achchi. She was always "mamma" to me and to her other grandchildren. She never seemed her real age. Sometimes when the two of us were standing together, people mistook her for my mother. While she was always elegantly and impeccably dressed in public, when she was at home in her "house coat" with her hair plaited, she could easily seem like a woman half her age.

The term "mamma" also suited her better because she was not just "amma" to my mother, Sunalini, and to her other daughters, Tara and Renuka, but in a way to the whole family. She was the matriarch and bedrock of our family. While coming to terms with the sudden tragedy of her loss I’ve also come to realise that she was "amma" to many other people. As thousands flocked to say their goodbyes, the full extent of her charity work, largely unknown to the family, was revealed when the many mourners poured forth their individual stories of her magnanimity.

There were people of all ages, from school children to her contemporaries, all were united in their grief. There were people from all walks of life: the less fortunate, who were touched by her kindness and generosity; cabinet ministers, who were her parliamentary colleagues; and even His Excellency, President Rajapakse, who delivered an eloquent eulogy highlighting her many remarkable charitable contributions. During his speech at the cremation ceremony held in Devinuwara’s cricket grounds, he described how everything he could see for miles around had been moulded by her.

Devinuwara, the city of gods, held a special place in her heart. However, her reach extended well beyond Sri Lankan shores. Others can comment more knowledgeably about her accomplishments in the political arena, where it often fell to her to support my grandfather, Ronnie De Mel, in serving Sri Lanka on the international stage. As a little girt, I never took much notice of the many photographs adorning my grandfather’s study which depicted my grandparents rubbing shoulders with heads of state and government around the world, people such as Ronald Regan, Margaret Thatcher and Rajeev Gandhi to name but a few. This was because no matter how busy they were, they always had time to be my grandparents.

Mamma was a formidable and astute observer of people. In any given social situation, she was able to mingle effortlessly and confidently with people from a wide variety of backgrounds and put them at their ease. Despite her fame and privileged upbringing, she never put on airs or graces - her natural charm shone through. She had a way of giving one her undivided attention, and listening so carefully, laughing or gasping in all the right places, that even the dullest felt himself to be a keen narrator and a quick wit when in her presence.

My grandmother was the life and soul of every party: her vivacious laugh and booming voice could always be heard from any corner of the room. Her personality was truly larger than life. I can remember her laughing at the clown who performed for us at my fifth birthday party, dancing at my eighteenth birthday bash, clapping with joy at my graduation ceremony and smiling proudly at my wedding festivities.

When we came to celebrate my wedding in Sri Lanka, not only did she offer to help with decorations, musicians and flowers at the poruwa ceremony but she also organised a fantastic special party for those of our wedding guests who had come from abroad. She arranged the party with consummate skill and was the perfect hostess, making everyone feel very welcome.

Her receptions were always occasions to be remembered, but she took just as much pride in small family dinner parties. Invitations to these informal gatherings were always readily forthcoming: a quick visit to drop off some papers could easily turn into a dinner invitation. Although she had cooks and maids, she personally loved to cook. Her food was amazing. She cooked delicious Western dishes such as creamy lobster thermidor and mouth watering Sri Lankan dishes such as my husband’s favourite dish, lamprais. She always set an exquisite table and no one ever went hungry!

Even during the few occasions when my husband and I were able to return my grandmother’s hospitality and attempt to emulate part of her culinary expertise by inviting her for a meal, she would always offer to cook some food. She had such a generous heart. Mamma always complimented us on our cooking, which was a pale imitation frequently based on her own recipes. She also had a great passion for flowers, having once owned a flower shop. Every time I look at my windowsill my gaze is drawn to the beautiful little anthurium plant that she gave me just a few weeks before she passed away so suddenly.

My grandmother always held a special space and place in my heart and I will cherish her memory forever. Goodbye Mamma.