11,550 days -- A tribute to Vivien

That's how long I knew her. 11,550 days. I know the date that I met my mother-in-law because it was the same day that I met my life partner. I remember Vivien meeting me at the door of her home with a big smile and a hug, even though she had never seen me before. I didn't expect her to be so tiny, barely reaching my chin, but soon realized that her small frame held vast amounts of energy.

We met because my best friend was marrying Vivien's third son, and Vivien was holding a wedding shower for Sue. As Sue's maid of honour, I was expected to be there to note down the gifts given and to help with hostessing. It was a whirlwind of a weekend, and I don't remember very much about it, other than meeting Vivien, her husband, Louis, and their second son, Lee, who is now the most important person in my life.

Mothers-in-law have some sort of reputation for causing trouble, but somehow she and I connected like magnets on fridges (she had lots of those, to hold up grandkids' art). Mom, as I was soon to call Vivien, had a deep, deep faith in God. She watched morning mass on TV every day that she couldn't attend in person, and surrounded herself with handwritten prayers jotted on small pieces of paper. She cooked up storms of food, shared dozens (if not hundreds) of recipes, usually with copious notes in the margins, and dispensed equal amounts of prayers, hugs, and cookies whenever she and Dad came to visit their kids in Edmonton. 

Vivien's 65th birthday

Vivien was a wonderful grandma who loved to read to her grandkids, play with playdough and Legos, or help little fingers to decorate cookies and cakes. She organized Easter Egg hunts in her back yard, baked many birthday treats, and never failed to ask, "how are the kids?" when we phoned her. She kept Canada Post in business, never forgetting to send a birthday or anniversary card, enclosing generous monetary gifts. She camped with us and sang with us and loved us well. She was a force of nature, and I'm pretty sure she's already prayed us all into heaven.

Somewhere around her 80th birthday, she tripped off a curb in a grocery store parking lot and fractured her pelvis. (We teased her that the wind had finally managed to blow her over!) After four days in hospital, she checked herself out because her food allergies were causing more problems than the fracture. 

Unfortunately, that was the beginning of a long slow decline -- during which, she still found the capacity to do good. She sponsored a younger sister of one of her home caregivers to come to Canada and assist her full time, with a two year contract leading toward permanent residency. Mom rarely did things for herself unless they helped others, too. Many of our Christmas gifts were purchased from organizations that supported the less fortunate, or came in the form of donations to charities on our behalf. 

Five-year-old Vivien

I probably didn't properly appreciate my mother-in-law until my children grew up and we had more time to chat without their small hands pulling her away to some activity or other. That's when I learned more about Vivien's life -- how she had grown up singing daily Mass in a small Cape Breton town, gone to college to learn "proper" French, and been a Home Economics circuit teacher -- moving every few days to teach at two different rural Cape Breton schools.

In 1959, Vivien's friend, Mary, found a newspaper ad inviting young people to work at the Banff Springs Hotel for the summer, and the two decided to apply for a Western Canada adventure that, for Vivien, lasted the rest of her life. She was thrilled to be working in Banff for Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip's visit that year, proven by a blurry motorcade photograph of the couple, and her lifelong love for the Royals. She never missed the Queen's Christmas message, and if Elizabeth II showed up on TV, Mom always commented on her elegance. 

As a young woman, Vivien herself was very stylish, and people often commented on the sharp outfits she sewed for herself. She loved to tell the story of how she first saw her future husband at a dance, wearing bright orange pants, and how she immediately told Mary that he was the man she was going to marry. Mary replied, "You'd better do something to fix his sense of style!"

Stylish lady

After the couple's first child arrived, Vivien's teaching career ended, and she immersed herself in being a mother (of five, eventually) and a farm wife, teaching herself to keep the books for the family's farm operation. She also designed and oversaw the construction of one of the family's homes. 

One by one, her kids headed to Edmonton for university, and she supported them with her prayers from afar. She was so proud of all her children and grandchildren (and one wee great-grandchild) and always looked forward to having visitors. Living on the prairies, she often commented on how much she missed being around water, and I will always remember how happy she was when we camped together near the shore in Waterton Lakes National Park.

She loved music, especially anything Celtic, and I have fond memories of Mom dancing in the living room with my kids. After receiving a palliative diagnosis in January, she was delighted when two of those grandchildren made a special trip, ukuleles in tow, to sing for Grandma, masks on. At a previous concert, before covid restrictions prevented indoor visits, she had them give their entire performance twice!

Vivien had her share of sorrows and struggles, carrying many of them in silence, turning them over to God daily. During our last visit with her the weekend before she died, she shared them in a whisper, and then fell into a deep sleep, from which it seemed no one could wake her. Not knowing what to do, we played her favourite hymns sung by fellow Nova Scotian, Anne Murray, spoke to her quietly, and shed many tears, thinking she was leaving us. However, after several hours, during my husband's vigil shift, she woke up, looked at him and whispered, "Lee, go to bed! It's late!"

Watching Mom's energy dwindle over the last few years has been a source of sadness for her whole family. With Dad being a man of few words, she was usually the one to carry our long-distance phone conversations, but over the last six months, her voice became weaker and weaker, though she usually managed to at least sign off with her trademark, "Love to you all." 

But at the end of a call the night before she died, she barely managed to whisper, "Love you." We told her we loved her too, as always. The next afternoon, we received the news that she had peacefully slipped away to be with the God in whom she entrusted all her cares. We miss her very much, but we know that she's pulling on God's apron strings for us, the family members and friends she left behind. That, or cooking with God in heaven's big, beautiful kitchen!

Vivien, Mom, you were a good woman, generous and strong, a friend, confidante, and support to many, including me, and a brilliant example of faith, hope and love. I am so blessed that you were my mother-in-law. I have no doubt that you are being celebrated in heaven with all the holy souls, and I look forward to meeting you again. Maybe then we'll finally have time to bake your famous apple turnovers together...