Momma-Linda & I went to Abbotsford for Margeurite's memorial. When we arrived there were about 100 people there. Chess, her husband, had tents set up and appetizers everywhere as well as an open bar.
It was a huge garden party. Which is exactly what Margeurite had asked for and specified.
After a while, Chess stood at a mic and make a short welcome speech then spoke about Margeurite. Then Margeurite's son, Jimmy, m-c'd and said his own speech then invited anyone in attendance to come up to speak.
Momma told a funny story about Margeurite making dumplings and they kept disappearing because it turned out that she'd used icing sugar. Ha ha ha. Then she said how city-wise Margeurite took her under her wing when Momma moved to big ole Vancouver from tiny Alkali Lake. It was a fabulous tribute.
Many, many other people spoke. We all wept a little and laughed a lot.
I was reluctant to speak but Jim pointed me out in back and invited me up. Basically I said:
I got to see /reconnect with her only a few times a year - when I visited my mom as a youth, but she was one of the stars in my life. Everyone talks about people like that, but I think that I mean it a bit differently. We all have those sparkling positive people who influence us. Those people who were just 'there' and you knew they were there and solid and not going away and who liked and valued you. She was one of those for me. There and important and influential, even though in the background as part of the foundation - but omnipresent.
Margeurite didn't advise me or assist me. We didn't get to talk often, it's just that I knew she was there and that she cared. She was a part of my life. An ingredient in my pie.
Now that she is gone, one of my support 'stars' has left the earth and gone on to the stars in my sky. No longer accessible.
Even tho I got Jim into mischief, like when he and I pierced his ear by hand using ice and forcing a piercing stud through his earlobe, she never held it against me. Him maybe, ha ha, she made him remove it the instant she saw it.
Instead, she remembered me and did things like call me out-of-the-blue & invite me to Easter dinner (when I was in my 20s n 30's) when she knew I was alone.
I loved her. She was a part of my whole. Now that she's gone, I feel the missing spot.
Well, something like that. I will miss her.