Margaret Jessie Gould

It's been a tough and trying time for my family lately. Sadly, my Grandma Gould died last week on 7 July just over two months since my Grandpa passed away. She had been suffering with dementia and other ailments and it was a relief for her that she suffered no longer and saved her family more pain in watching her drift away. That might seem crass to some, but blessings often disguise themselves. I was home for the funeral this week and arrived back in Liverpool yesterday for my last month in the UK.

The Minister who has presided over both services was Canon Jim Kiddell who knew both of my grandparents well in their time at St Mathias Church in Etobicoke. When he spoke about Grandpa he referred to him most often as principled, for my Grandma it was 'pearl' and gracious. Quite a lot was said about both of them at both services because they were such a team, but I've been reflecting too on them as individuals.

She was an incredibly gracious woman and here's a few random musings...

Remembering her now, I always remember wanting to have her fiery red hair when I was younger. Her house was always impeccably clean, perfectly organised and they did have the cleanest basement I've ever seen in my life. She took pride in her home and I think that is something I've definitely taken from her too. But she loved a good laugh and always seemed on the verge of making a punchline of virtually every story. She shared so much with so many people and from that I take that she must have cherished the wider community she was a part of.

She also loved turtles. For many birthdays, Christmases and Mother's Days I'm sure I bought her a little turtle. I'll always remember her little cabinet in the den at Rowse Crescent and picking my favourites out. Her little bell would ring each morning for Grandpa to bring the coffee presumably. She let me stay up late to watch the Golden Girls and I can still sing every word of that theme song today! She loved stroking my hair, whatever the length, and counting freckles. Whenever I would leave her house in the summer, I'd always leave with an empty margarine tub full of cherry tomatoes.

The other past time I'll take from her is peering into the windows of people's houses at night. I'm not sure whether she was checking out their decor or seeing if she could catch people up to something mischievous, but she loved it and now I do too.

But you cannot help thinking of my Grandma and Grandpa together. They were married for over 66 years so were inseparable. Grandpa would always call me - to dial the numbers - but then I'd quickly be passed over to Grandma - who he called the boss. I think that simply demonstrates how they did always do things as a team. I'll remember them both with the utmost love, fondness and admiration. I'll miss them always but hold dear the lessons learnt.

Finally, I just want to write somewhere so I don't forget, that I mentioned to my cousin's wife Kelly at the service that one of the last conversations I had with my Grandpa was about my masters dissertation. He told me about how he researched his from old newspapers at the central library in Toronto. Apparently, Kelly said he randomly dug it out and told everyone about it and she hadn't known what had triggered it. I guess it was that slightly random conversation with me.