May 4 Service, as read by Lisa.

 

Thank you for coming to this gathering to remember Janet, Jan, JanJan, Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Yakob ... mom. I welcome all of you … and welcome into our hearts and minds all who are unable to be here today. There will be a full cast watching over us and thinking about you, Mom.

 

For Little Mommy-O

 

I have borrowed from the service we had for my grandmother, Avis McCurdy.  She was a smart, kind, ahead-of-her time kind of woman. Mom’s ‘get to it’ attitude was all Avis. While memories of her actual service are foggy, my memories of her are very clear.

 

In the beginning …

 

I came across over 10 pages of hand-written notes, penned by Mom and Dorothy’s play group teacher in 1939 … some too good not to share. I just learned from Dorothy, that this woman was a famous child psychologist of her time … that explains the title: “Extracts from my daily reflection of the Play Group”. She wrote a little something about Mom each day:

 

 “Janet began to build a store with boxes, then decided it was a train. Immediately all wanted to travel in it … Janet is much in demand for her natural whistle at every departure of the train.”

 

Mom’s love of trains must have come from her mother. I will always remember Grammie gathering the troops with an “all aboard”.

 

Another note reads: “Janet is by far the most social of all the ‘social’ children. All want to sit beside her at lunch.  She is approached by the others far more than any other single child. Janet is the most helpful of all the children. She volunteers to help. She is a responsible individual … always can be relied upon to complete any task with which she is entrusted. She was four!. Nice table manners, nice table conversation.  A good listener always (is that the secret of her popularity?).

 

Janet strikes every outsider as a ‘darling’ … much the favourite (but Miss B never expresses a preference of course—which is as it should be). Janet is painstaking ... is it possible to be too painstaking?  I have to laugh sometimes when Janet starts to sign heavily but insists on completing her job!

She keeps me up to scratch with my wardrobe too. She always notices anything different or new.”

 

These observations certainly ring true … perhaps proof that we, for better or worse, are pretty much set at age four.
 

High school at Forest Hill Collegiate was filled with music, theatre, and friends gathering at their big Lonsmount Drive home. There were foster siblings, boarders, friends, visitors and much activity.  

In response to a teacher’s concern about Mom’s physics grade, Grampa, in typical style responded “I am not (and in teenie, after-thought letters, ‘too’ worried about her. She works reasonably hard. Perhaps a bit inefficient. But I suspect part of this low combination is accidental bad luck at the exams”. This, perhaps genetic, disposition certainly does explain Mom’s low-key, “no-need-to-panic”, sensibility.

 

Mom’s sister Dorothy reminded us of some of their family trip excitement. On a trip to Nova Scotia, Avis pulled over to the side of the road to nap … the kids then ran ahead and were later picked up. On a trip in 1951, Mom was driving when the brakes failed. She managed to save the day and car by steering the car to exactly the right spot.

 

After High School, Mom went to The Wellesley School of Nursing.  There she met long-time friends … some of whom are here today representing the Class of ‘57.  One classmate, Doreen, and Mom decided to vacation to Florida by bus to visit Mom’s grandmother. The further south they got, they noticed certain people sat at the back of the bus. As Doreen described: “We decided to join them. They were horrified and asked us to move, lest a riot ensue. The Civil Rights Movement had just begun.”

 

 “On the bus trip back home, two boys from Georgia were sitting behind us. They were on their way to jobs at Avro Arrow.” After a few double date switches, Mom and Dad were a couple.

Their courtship and marriage followed.

 

The term 'beloved' is bantered around, but I can use it with confidence after reading Dad's correspondence to mom during time apart before their wedding. Letter after letter, day after day, "I will always love you". "My dearest Jan” he wrote... “With you I will have everything; without you I would have nothing ... Even when I could see and touch you and hear your voice, you sometimes seemed too lovely to be real."

 

During this time, while Mom was completing her degree and planning her wedding, she was also full-speed ahead arranging their move to Georgia while Dad finished at Georgia Tech. A little more of Grampa’s chill would have gone a long way during this hectic time…

 

New marriage, new jobs, straight out of school, new friends, and two babies later, Mom and Dad moved back to Toronto where Dad finished his degree in Architecture at U of T.

Once back in Toronto, Mom continued nursing and returned to The Wellesley Hospital as an Emergency Department nurse and later as a ‘floater’, mostly on the Arthritis ward. Doreen later returned to The Wellesley too, by which time Mom was working as a nurse/receptionist for a doctor who had an office in the adjacent building that used to house the nursing students. One summer, I worked as a candy stripper when Mom was working the 7-3pm shift.  It was fun going in with her and working on ‘her’ floor with the other lovely nurses on her shift.

 

Mom joined the ‘Juniors’ at the Wimodausis charity club (it stands for wives, mothers, daughters, sisters). The ‘Juniors’ were founded around 1950, one of those Juniors is here today. The Seniors were their mothers. Mom joined after she was in nurses training.  The club raised money for the Earlscourt Children’s Home. I remember helping (or maybe just tagging along) to the major fundraiser which was the Toronto Antique Show and sale at the O’Keefe Centre. Very fancy!

 

Susan and I were lucky.

 

I have vivid memories of you getting ready in our bathroom ... standing at the sink and mirror in your white slip, putting on your makeup, eye lashes, and doing your hair. Getting ready for one of your many social events.

 

Mom was an understated, quietly attentive, gentle mother. Susan and I had her, often unspoken, unconditional love. We remember how there were presents under our Christmas tree and chocolate bunnies by the fireplace at Easter. We remember the Unitarian Congregation, a house which backed on to a parking lot, up by Yonge and Eglinton. There was singing and dancing from all cultures and religions, and of course, arts and crafts for the kids.  We walked there on Sundays, through our lovely Belsize Parkette and up the Wilfred hill. I rode on my Dad’s shoulders when the snow was too deep for me to walk. Our home was filled with simple family meals … meatloaf and chili and anything ‘helper’ among our favourites.  We welcomed the big countertop frying pan ... maybe it will be sloppy joes. Hopefully it won’t be liver.  We feared the stove top pressure cooker … still do. Our home also had its share of not so simple gatherings that often over-filled our small house with family, friends, and much laughter. 

 

Mom was an active parent at our schools when we were little. The trips, the fun fairs, and the crafts. She endured camping trips ... cooking meals over an open fire and washing dishes in that yellow tub. She travelled in a cramped car to and from Georgia, so that we could visit with Dad’s family. She always packed lunches and a thermos … and every summer when we went south, a stop at Howard Johnston’s for ice cream.

 

She played tennis and we all played badminton. We spent time with our grandparents, most notably in their Palace in the Woods … a lovely home out by The Toronto Zoo which was a mecca for parties, gatherings, and maple syrup making.

 

Kids never really know or think about what our mothers do during the day. We were no exception. We did know, however, that she was home for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  When Mom worked the night shift, we didn't even notice, because she was always there for us in the morning with oatmeal or egg in the whole for breakfast and to braid our hair before school.

 

We knew we had homemade clothes and costumes, help with school events and projects, and summer camps. We knew we had music lessons and dance classes. We remember the simple things after routine events. On Saturdays after dance class … baked hot dogs with cheese, wrapped in bacon, with of course, tomato soup. On our little tv … wrestling. After our trips to the dentist, we went to a little basement diner for orange juice and honey glazed donuts. CFRB radio 1010 was always on, except when we watched our All My Children … taped religiously on our VCR.

 

We knew there was an evening cocktail and sometimes cheese and crackers. And, we knew there was coffee ... much coffee. Coffee in the morning, coffee with Barb Taylor, coffee in many a thermos, coffee before Christmas present opening.

 

As we got older, Mom let us find our own way in life and didn’t impose, pressure, or guilt. But just as Dad followed in his car to make sure we got off the bus at the right stop on our way to day camp, I’m sure Mom was keeping watch. There was no drama (from her), however. She was just there.

 

One of the only things Susan and I can both remember in the way of advice is “put a little lipstick on … it will make you feel better”.  That … true.

 

Mom’s niece Heidi articulated Mom’s essence well when retelling one of the many stories of a joint family camping trip we were all on-- involving bear visitors. “I loved that she was so human, not afraid to let us see that she was less than perfect. Over the years, that one quality has made her so approachable and just comfortable to be around.  My Auntie Jan has never even tried to “stand on ceremony” or put up a false front. I love her dearly and I am so grateful that she has been such an important influence in my life.”

 

109 Belsize Drive was our childhood—and it was good. 

 

Susan and I were lucky.  Susan and I are lucky to have such good memories to hold.

 

Mom fought after Dad died. She fought to create a 'new normal' for herself at 54 years old. She did so well really. So well that we often missed how difficult it must have been. She fought, and she won.

 

She took a tour to travel Europe even though her diary notes mention how terrified she was. This trip concluded with a wonderful visit to Scotland with Neil and his family. Neil, stayed for a time on Belsize Drive while completing his Architecture degree in Canada, and he meant so much to both Mom and Dad. The son Mom never had, and the child good at math that Dad never had.

 

Mom worked and handled life on her own. She rebuilt her kitchen, added a deck, continued knitting and learned how to create beautiful stained glass. She travelled west to visit old friends, the Keeler clan and us. Mom travelled south, of course, for the lovely warm weather and Susan's family. She returned to her hospital days and volunteered at Sunnybrook. She remembered and acknowledged birthdays and anniversaries and holidays and continued to make loaf after loaf of Stolen for Christmas.

 

 “Grammie” crafted and sewed and smocked treasured gifts for grand daughters Laura and Elena. She knit sweaters to warm grandson Stewart.  She crocheted ... stuffed toys for the grand kids, table cloths, clothes ... we all remember.

 

One thing Mom and Dad shared was their love of Scottish Country Dancing. We all enjoyed the Community and made life-long friends because of it. This lovely group of people danced weekly, attended monthly dances and gala balls, danced in Edwards Gardens and later at Sunnybrook Park.  They also vacationed, enjoyed The Eastside Players, partied, and drank (a little more than coffee) together. They all had a social life to be envied. This group embraced and included each other, and still does, going on 50 years now.

 

 

In 2013, Richard, Elena, and I moved back to Toronto to share a home and life with Mom in the west end. A local community centre, Symes 55+, is where she found a niche and 'her people'. The Wednesday discussion group, "Timely Topics", lead by the unstoppable Doris, was worth the early morning.

 

This group embraced Mom, and she mattered to them. It is here she met Marilyn, who became a quick friend and introduced her to the Unitarian Fellowship. Once a Unitarian, always a Unitarian. This small, but wonderful, group of people welcomed us from day one. They were always around on Sundays to help with Mom's coat, serve her coffee, and include her. We spent many a lovely pot luck meal with this bunch. Mom enjoyed her walks in our neighbourhood, but only because, I think, she could stop by the Johnston home just around the corner. We were also able to a picnic or two in High Park with Gloria and Kathy.

 

Mom was always up for a song or poem or costume when needed. Her nursing school days seemed to be filled with this sort of fun with her classmates. Mom often offered up poems and prose for birthday and anniversary good wishes.  The last one we wrote was for Gloria after her death this past summer. With Kathy and Janet’s permission, I will read it now as it sums up so much of what Mom’s friends meant to her.

 

 

Lives well lived, I wish you could stay

For our lives are better with you, what can I say

1970s it was, when me met,

A groovy time, I won’t forget.

 

Dancing with kids, festivals and fun

and best of all, chili dinners when done.

Florida sun, when Janet was piping,

Kincardin relaxing, long before skyping.

 

Kids grew up, but fun kept going

The Glenview crew, there was no slowing.

Trips to Niagara, and all around

An amazing cast was definitely found.

 

Themed parties and music, with song and dance

Skits, games and costumes, all happy in trance.

From drinks to dinner to dancing we went

Then to dessert, so … another event

And more than once, some won’t admit

A breakfast party, another curfew not met.

 

A trip to PEI with Hodgson school.

A train ride no less, were we the fool?

Only a few were lost, then found without a care

Lobsters loose in our room, was the start of my grey hair.

 

How great to know, that for those we miss

We remember you all …

Signing off with a kiss.

 

 

Susan had a wonderful visit a week before Mom died. They went through scrap books and tales, worked on crosswords and watched Sound of Music. Friday, Mom and Elena enjoyed dinner while challenging each other over Jeopardy. Friday night, Saturday and Sunday, mom was surrounded by love and was never alone. The joys of technology allowed me to replay recorded messages over and over to Mom from Stewart and Laura, and she was able to listen to Susan play Edelweiss on the piano.

 

Monday morning, with me by her side; with reminders of the love of family and friends; with the names of so many there are who care in this life; and the too many amazing people who will be waiting in the next, she was gone.

 

Mom, you fought till the end ...

I hope for you that you have found joy and peace, and that you are surrounded by the love you had on this earth.

 

The window was opened so your sole could soar.

In case, as I hope there is, “more to come”, I sent you off with a few mementos.

 

For those of us left to continue to find light and life, Mom's death has left us a little empty.

So … Take a breath and remember to slow down.

Be thoughtful. Be kind.

 

She would want us to be filled, day by day, with small joys, appreciation and happy reminders of her. Join me reciting “we will remember her”, if it makes you happy:

 

In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we will remember her.

In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we will remember her.

In the opening of buds and in the rebirth of spring, we will remember her.

In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, we will remember her.

In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we will remember her.

In the beginning of the year and when it ends, we will remember her.

When we are weary and in need of strength, we will remember her.

When we are lost and sick at heart, we will remember her.

When we have joys we yearn to share, we will remember her.

--Roland B. Gittelsohn

 

Raise a toast to her. Have a laugh. Write a note. Think of her when you have a butter tart or cashews.  Spread on the butter and strawberry jam. Enjoy some geraniums, impatiens, or african violets. If you can stand it, cheer on the Blue Jays, Argos, or Leafs. Take up a new challenge, or enjoy an old one, like a crossword. Enjoy afternoon tea on the porch, or a drinky poo before dinner. 

 

In the words of Mom’s long-time friend Doreen Marshall:

"I miss Jan. I miss the idea of Jan"

MUSIC:  Edelweiss

MUSIC:  All Through the Night

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