From Lee:
Bonnie Spencer
Wife of Lee,
Mother of Leslie
Mother of David
Born 1943 in Comox BC to Vilda and Eugene Hynes, brother Terry Hynes and sister Maggie Kennedy
Moved to Saskatoon during war years. Graduated from Sasktoon City Hopsital as registered nurse. Did some travelling and nursing in Europe.
Bonnie and I met in Qu'appelle SK (French , "who calls") also called echo lake (myth is a Cree warrior paddles in a canoe calling for his lost Maiden and the hills echo.. “who calls”!!!
Bonnie gave me two children, daughter Leslie and son David.
Bonnie, an amazing , wonderful, kind and gentle wife allowed my ego to build as I was offered career opportunities in many places in Canada. We moved a lot as the kids grew.
No matter what city , Bonnie worked as an OR nurse.
She would get called into the OR at 2 am , back to bed at 4 a.m. and then work again at 7:00 a.m.. All this while raising children, managing the house and her wonderful gardens and pets. Bonnie was a super wife and mother, always with lots of love for us.
Bonnie loved to socialize and be around people. She loved Christmas , Easter, and birthdays, her sorority sisters and hospital friends. She also liked to garden and created plants and flowers, the beauty of the soil.
Bonnie is my best friend. The best part of me is gone. I will always call her name. Qu'appelle.
From Leslie:
On April 25th we unexpectedly lost my mom, Bonnie Spencer. I feel empty and hollow, like a piece of me is missing. My world is forever changed. The person that thought I was perfect the way I am and loved me unconditionally is gone. The night before she died, I dreamt of her speaking to me and looking like she did when I was young. I cannot quite understand how it is possible that she is actually gone. I cry in my car on the way to work in the morning and again on the way home. This is what I allow myself and this is the probably the reality of grief with work and family responsibilities. So to help myself, I decided to write a love letter to the world about my mom. It will probably never be complete and I intend to add memories as they occur to me.
The night before that saddest day, we had all gone out to a restaurant for a family supper, the last one. My mom complained she was cold and wore a beautiful coat the entire evening. She loved this coat as it was similar to one her mother wore. My mom died on Good Friday which I believe speaks to her soul. She spent her life caring for and worrying about other people. She was a registered nurse and would have celebrated the 58th anniversary of her of Nursing class from Saskatoon City Hospital this year. She worked in emergency and the operating room among other units during her long career. As a young nurse she worked in England during which she enjoyed traveling around Western Europe.
My mom worked as a nurse at the time when nurses still "looked like" nurses. I loved watching her get ready for work and I always thought she looked so pretty, like an angel; White uniform, white stockings, white shoes, white coat, and a white hat with a black stripe pinned into her hair. When I was sick as a child, which was often, my cousins had nickname me, "Les the mess", I enjoyed my mom's wonderful care, gentle nature and concern. She would become my nurse and even used her 'telephone voice'.
My mom worked in my different hospitals in Saskatchewan, British Columbia, Ontario, Manitoba and the Yukon. She saw and helped treat many terrible and harrowing things. She often tried to caution and teach my brother and I and my dad about health and safety and alert us to the dangers of different situations and the world in an effort to keep us safe. Sometimes it worked. I can thank her for some of my neurosis. The rest, I'm sure is from my dad.
My mom was tough. She lived through being in the case room and on call while working in the OR with very little sleep and without the pay or benefits of today.
I can even remember my mom taking me to the outhouse on the middle of the night when vacationing in a camper on the back of our truck, even though there were bears near the garbage cans. This is probably why I am now a three star minimum kind of girl. There is also a picture of me at age 4 on a picnic table in some campground with a 70's Barbie dream house, which probably also contributed some to those three star expectations.
My mom was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease when my 16 year old son was a toddler. Never once did my mom complain or feel sorry for herself. In many ways she overcame and her spirit was indomitable. She maintained her independent spirit and until these last 2 terrible years, terrible for obvious reasons, she continued to do the things she loved. I found a letter that she had wrote to her mother-in-law when she was a young mom in her 30s. She wrote that she hoped like my grandmother Spencer, to maintain her independent Spirit, her love for travel and never become a depressed and dependent older woman like she often saw hospitals.
My mom was Born during World War II to a father serving in the Canadian Navy and a mother that was one of the strongest and most loving woman I have known. She was the oldest and had a younger brother and sister. My mother was stoic and sensible, intelligent and knowledgeable, determined and measured. She was kind and forgiving and caring. She annoyingly knew all the answers to crossword and Sudoku puzzles and reassuringly knew how to fix what was broken or damaged in the house and the perfect ingredient or recipe to make something better. She could correctly spell any word and I considered her my personal oracle, far superior to Google. When I was young I must have been one of those annoying little kids that repeatedly asked "Why?" about everything. In her ultimate exasperation, my mom used to answer "just because" or "because mothers know everything" and if you ask me, she did.
My mom loved shoes and she loved to shop. She could also see and mend which I should have learned. All I can do is sew on a button. Shopping is something we used to do together. Now when I am in a store I imagine her in the aisle next to where I am. Just a little ahead of me.
She loved to socialize and had a great laugh. When I remember her now she is smiling and laughing. I loved that laugh. She was a member of Beta Sigma Phi for several decades and enjoyed arts and culture events which she introduced to me at a young age. She loved to travel and garden and was a voracious reader. She had a sharp and witty humour and was often blunt and did not have time for nonsense. She often lovingly referred to my dad as a "nut" which is an accurate description. She was married to him for over 51 years after all, she earned the right. I was fortunate to witness my parents marriage. A real love, perfect and imperfect in many ways as all the best relationships and an unshakable bond of friendship and companionship. They took care of each other. My mother true to form had limits to the amount of "care" she would tolerate, she was the caregiver after all. During one of our last conversations, she said she was 'too old' to be told what to do. She was also stubborn and a terrible patient and hated hospitals.
My mom was the best kind of mom. We, my brother and I were blessed in that department. My brother, whom I refer to as her 'favourite child', because he is younger and sweeter and easier than me, especially at age 14 and 15 (I was a bit of a horror show) so the favourite part was a given. When I was young, even though my mom often had to be at work very early, she would wake me up and brush my long hair into a ponytail so I would be ready to go to school (since my dad must have been useless with an updo) and then she would tuck me back into bed. She worked full time, packed our lunches, cooked all our meals, cleaned house, did the laundry, drove us to activities and still at night she would read to me. I am in awe of her in so many ways. When I was quite young she read the entire series of Nancy Drew novels to me. We also watched all the murder she wrote episodes together. She loved a good mystery and British dramas and comedy's. My mom drove me from Saskatchewan to Vancouver for a school field trip when I was 12 so I could see my old friends. She was at every school event, dance and music recital, graduations, basically every special event in my life, visited me in every place I ever lived, including 4 different countries and was even with me at the hospital for the birth of both of my boys and then after for all their special events. I will greatly miss being able to call her and tell her about my day.
I know that if she saw us now there would be a lot of tsk tsk tsk tsking and instructions to "pull ourselves together" and "stop making a fuss" over her. She was reasonable and balanced whereas I'm often an emotional puddle or "haywire" as one family member has said. Truth.
It was an honour to be related to and to have been raised and influenced by some of the most amazing women. I am fortunate to have had the mother that I did. I will forever love and I will miss her everyday. I will spend the rest of my life honouring her memory and I will do my best to emulate her.
My mother loved to celebrate all things, especially Christmas and birthdays and I have wonderful memories and experiences because of her efforts. She will always hold a place at all my future celebrations and I will forever celebrate that I was blessed to be her daughter. When my brother marries his most amazing fiancé this summer, whom we all love and adore, I will hold her place. She was immensely looking forward to this wedding and I promise not to wear the witchy skirt the she thought was not appropriate for a wedding.
She will be greatly missed by all her family and friends and those that had the privilege to know her.
I Pray that God will now take good care of her.
From David:
The things I will remember most about my Mom are the things that would be overlooked by most people as important events in their lives. I will always remember drinking diet A&W root beer, eating popcorn and watching Disney movies. I will remember how she rolled her eyes almost any time my Dad said anything. I remember waiting hours and hours in clothing stores while she browsed through what seemed like every article in the store. Her love of baking, she would always make me bran muffins without raisins, even though she preferred them with. I mostly remember her independent spirit and her amazing inner light, and how a long battle with Parkinson’s slowly took both from her. My Mom was very proud of everything she did, no matter what or how difficult it was she fought every day to always be presentable and keep her independence. Many people see the death of a loved one as the worst thing that can happen; I know that is not the case. Death can often be a blessing, an end to pain, suffering, a stop to the humiliation of needing help for tasks people take for granted. I try and see my mother’s death as a blessing instead of an end, she fought hard and maintained her independence even though everyone around her (including myself) thought they knew what was best for her. I will miss my mother every day but I am happy that she will lose no more of her light and her independent spirit will live on in my memory.
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