Name: T. Little Funeral Home & Cremation Centre
Address: Cambridge, ON

Nettie's Eulogy: Today we mark the passing of a very special woman, my grandmother Nettie Porter. 

My grandmother often told stories of hard times growing up. She was the middle of three daughters, and a younger brother, of Ukrainian immigrants who moved from Winnipeg to Kitchener after the death of their two infant sons. She and her older sister had to leave their high school, KCI, at the age of 14 and 15 to work in a factory during the Depression even though she and Mary had the highest marks in their grade, in spite of beginning their education with no real grasp of the English language. They used to pick up coal on the railway tracks to heat the house. Later in the 1940's, she endured 5 years, as a single mother while my grandfather was away at war, and then in hospital, very unwell, for a long period of time after being wounded overseas in the final days of World War II. You could say that she was a feminist before it was fashionable, having to work and provide the sole income for the family for many years.

My memories of her begin in the 1960's when we lived up the street from their home on Highman Avenue. Bits and pieces of those times come to mind like hot sunny days, their immaculate yard and gardens with lots of bright pink petunias, running through the sprinkler, and always lots to eat. For as long as I can remember she would have her hair done on her lunch break every Wednesday, or Thursday. She went to the same hairdresser for at least my entire life until she was 90. And yes, she never had a hair out of place. 

My parents had us at a very young age, so my grandmother made a point of helping them out whenever she could, taking my mom under her wing and showing her the ropes in caring for us by helping her with sewing, knitting and cooking some traditional Ukrainian dishes. She also made the best coleslaw and potato salad ever. Christmas was a magical event at their place that we all looked forward to with great anticipation. We were always excited to find out what present we would receive when we were younger – usually one thing that had been chosen especially for us – as well as beautiful, colourful decorations and a traditional meal that always included her uniquely made cabbage roles.

Our grandparents loved to have us stay over for the night on a weekend. I remember one time when I would have been no more than 3-years-old.  While my brother Bill was down in the rec room watching the hockey game with my grandfather, my grandmother and I were upstairs with her old record player on, dancing away, her telling me to get my knees up higher and saying “Come on skeezicks!”. (it means little rascal).

After moving out to their 10-acre “farm” in Puslinch we had many great times with them as well, usually at least once a week. There were campfires, trips to the St. Jacob's market & stockyards, one year a horse, a herd of cattle another time, several ponds that were dug to skate on, row a boat and maybe swim. They had picked up a cane for each of us to use while we explored the property together. She and my grandfather were a great team always enjoying the nature around them and the wide variety of birds that would come to their feeder.

She finally retired from her position as head of the payroll department for Cambridge Shoes at the age of 70 after much pleading by my grandfather. A couple of years later he passed away suddenly from a heart condition. I will never forget how my grandmother attended his funeral in a beige corduroy blazer and plain skirt. I thought it was so out of place for a funeral as she always made a point of dressing up for each occasion. I wanted her to go and put on something a bit more formal, which would have been more to her character, but never said anything at the time. I realized much later that this was a sign of how heartbroken she was over his passing. 

Many remember my grandfather, Ken Porter, as a character with a great deal of charisma and having a wonderful sense of humour. We would visit on a regular basis listening to his stories and laughing with him. Needless to say we were all very fond of him. When I look back now I realize how important my grandmother was as the other half of that team, and making it all work for us. She was always there to make sure that we had food and drink for each get together, that we were all comfortable and never went home hungry, she was his backup. Without her, the other half of the team wouldn't have been nearly as wonderful. Her impact on us was equally as important. 

Besides my grandfather, the other person who was the light of her life was my dad. I think having him in her life was what kept her going when times were tough in the early days. Several times she had told me how she had always wanted to have a girl as well, but had endured 18 days in hospital after having him due to complications, and been told it would be best not to have any more children. I'm pretty sure that she accepted this and was fulfilled with what she had in her life.

Later on when I was an adult I would stay with her the odd time. She had the only place that I knew where you could take a bath while listening to a tape of Frank Sinatra playing right in the bathroom. I think it was an idea that she had gotten from her sister, Nel, who was also her regular shopping partner. I remember following her in my car to Kitchener from Cambridge, one time, when she was going to meet her sister to go clothes shopping once again. I can't remember why I was going along, but I figured it was going to be a slow drive.  Instead, I had a hard time not losing her!

A few years ago when my daughter Savannah was maybe 7 or 8 years old, we were at an arena or some sort of place where they had that big portrait of the Queen from her coronation. Savannah said, “that looks like Grandma Porter”, and she was right! Funny, how I never noticed the resemblance until it was brought to my attention. I think the fashion diva would have approved of the comparison, although at that point she wouldn't have been able to understand or remember much about the compliment. 

The last part of her life was not what she had envisioned, spending 5 years in long-term care suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Eventually she no longer recognized us - her grandchildren, or her great-grandchildren - whom she was very fond of. When my dad visited her he had to go along with many different scenarios playing out in her mind including one time a year or so ago when she asked him who he was. He said “I'm Richard, your son.” She replied, “No you're not, my son is small and skinny and you're big and fat!” In spite of her deteriorating ability she was still able to say the entire alphabet backwards during this time until quite recently. It was hard to see her in that type of setting after all that she had accomplished in her life. 

So all of those memories are why I can't say that I am sad that she is gone, but rather, I recognize how lucky I was to have a grandparent who delighted in her grandchildren, and later her great grandchildren, and was able to give so much of hers.

It has been an honor to know Nettie these past years at St Andrews Terrace. She became a part of my every day life as I interacted with her on numerous occasions. Her love of life and quick wit was a joy to behold and her smile always brightened up my day. I loved to sit with her by the window enjoying each new day and hearing all her stories about "the good old days'. It is with a heavy heart I say thank you for the memories, the laughter, the smiles. You will never be forgotten.

OBITUARY

Nettie Porter

January 24, 1917 – October 18, 2013

T. Little Funeral Home & Cremation Centre

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