Christine Whelan

Chris was born in Walthamstow, northeast London, to Charles, a steel bender and fixer, and Eunice, a homemaker—Wag and May, as everyone knew them. She and her older sister Elizabeth (known as Ann) had a very happy childhood and adolescence, surrounded by a large, close-knit extended family. Chris left school at 15 and went to work in the City as a clerk at Red Star Insurance, a division of Lloyd’s of London. It was there that she met her lifelong sweetheart, David Whelan, a visiting telecoms engineer. They married in 1964, when she was just 18 and he 21 years old. Soon they welcomed Claire and, a few years later, Emma. The 1970s was a grim decade in Britain, prompting Chris and Dave to emigrate to Canada in 1977 in search of a brighter future for their daughters. But for the rest of her life, Chris missed England and the family she had left behind.

After raising their girls in Winnipeg, Chris and Dave moved to Kanata, Ontario for the last phase of Dave’s lifelong career in IT. They retired to Nova Scotia, settling first in Lunenburg before moving to Shad Bay, a few doors down from their daughter and infant grandson. They spent eight years there, living in Mum’s favourite-ever house, overlooking the bay, adopting Brenda the Cat, and playing games with Theo—a time Mum described as one of the happiest of her life. Declining health, including Mum’s diagnosis with progressive multiple sclerosis in her late sixties, prompted their move to an apartment in Clayton Park, Halifax in 2018.

The daughter of lifelong Labour supporters, Mum had a proudly working-class, feminist sensibility and a disdain for the skulduggery of the powerful. Though shy and reserved by nature, she responded with tenderness and compassion to the misfortunes and vulnerabilities of others. She was an avid and discerning reader, instilling a lifelong love of books in her daughters by reading to us every night as children. Mum also was a gifted artist, but diffident about her talents; while she sold some of her lovely watercolours, pastels, and collages, most were shown only to her nearest and dearest. She appreciated her creature comforts and had a well-developed sweet tooth, especially for chocolate. Wherever she lived, she created a spotlessly clean home and a beautiful garden for her family—even when, in her final years, her garden had to be confined to many carefully tended houseplants. She passed along her artistic talents to her grandson and, to her two girls, her love of gardening and her vague but delicious recipes (though we will never match her pastry or her award-winning Victoria sandwich). Mum was a highly intuitive and sensitive person who was often troubled by worries and poor health. But there never was a more gentle nursemaid, a more empathetic confidante, or a prouder, more loving mother and grandmother. Her capacity to feel with us and for us was extraordinary.

In June 2021, Dad died unexpectedly. He and Mum had been married for 57 years and in their final years together, they were more devoted than ever. Opposites in some ways, but with similar values and an appreciation for the quiet joys of home and family, they were so interdependent and so rarely apart that the prospect of life without the other was unthinkable. Mum lost not only her partner but her primary support person. For the first time, she found herself living alone, at age 75 with an increasingly debilitating illness. She learned to use a computer, to depend on homecare for tasks she preferred to do herself, and to make new friends as a widow; Donna and Susan deserve special mention for showing our mother kindness and friendship near the end of her life. Mum and Auntie Ann remained the closest of sisters, talking almost daily after they both lost their husbands. But Mum’s failing health made daily life an ever-greater struggle, and the self-determination she so valued harder to sustain. While she tried her best to carry on without Dad, it was Mum’s dearest wish to be with him again. We hope with all our hearts that she is now.

Chris is predeceased by her beloved husband Dave; her mother May and her father Wag; her father-in-law and mother-in-law, Dave and Nance; her sisters-in-law, Mary and Sheila; and Brenda the cat. She is survived and remembered with much love by her daughters, Claire (Sandy) and Emma (Wayne); her grandson Theo; her sister Ann; her sister-in-law Catherine; and many dear cousins, nieces, and nephews in the UK.

In keeping with Christine’s wishes, no public service will be held, but donations in her memory may be made to Shelter Nova Scotia, Feed Nova Scotia, or any organization that assists those dealing with homelessness and poverty.

“Let it be said—not gone, just gone ahead.”