Week 16: Oldest Story

 Oldest Story

Many of my ancestors lived into the mid or late 80s - even the ones in the 1800s.  But my Mother lived for about 7 weeks after her 95th birthday, passing away February 16, 2025.  So I believe she is my longest living ancestor.

Pearl Mary Eveleen Schell was born December 24, 1929 on the family farm in Brentwood, Sunnidale Township, Simcoe County in Ontario.  She was named after her grandmothers: Pearl Bates (nee Mumberson) and Mary Schell (nee Deadman).  When she was born on her Aunt Effie's birthday, her parents also added Effie's name of Eveleen.  Effie was not an actual aunt, but a cousin and close family friend.  However, Mom grew up not using any of those names.  Her sister Lena, older by only 15 months, tried to call the baby 'Sister' but was unable to properly say the word and called her 'Sisser'.  It was shortened to 'Sis' and everyone in the community and extended family only knew her as Sis.  

Even when she married, she still went by Sis.  On Jun 11, 1949, she married a local boy, William John (aka Jack) Allen, so he had only known her as Sis.  In the mid 1950s, when they moved to Kingston Ontario for Dad's work, Mom decided it was time to be more mature and started using Eveleen as her name.  This decision led to other problems.  Dad always had difficulties in knowing which name to use, so he usually used "Dear" to play it safe.  And most people did not know how to pronounce the name.  Instead of 'Eve Lynn' that Mom used, most people would say 'Evlyn' or 'Eva Lynn' or some other variation.  Mom lived her last two years of life in a nursing home and to give the staff credit, they would go out of their way to ensure they were pronouncing the name correctly.  Staff at the hospital prior to the nursing home did as well.  She would tell them that they could call her Sis if they wanted.

Given the fact that her parents named her after family members, Mom grew up in an environment that valued  family.  Her father was the oldest of 10 and had taken on the responsibility of the family farm as a single man at the age of 21 when his father died unexpectedly in 1916.  By the time my mother was born, her widowed grandmother was still living in the farmhouse as well as some of her uncles.  And the siblings of my Grandfather that had left the homestead, frequently returned with their families to visit their mother.  Her mother's parents lived in the area and were active in their lives as well.  And the maternal aunts and uncle either lived in the vicinity or visited frequently.

Mom only had a Grade 8 education, which was fairly common for rural Canadian children in the 1930s/40s.  She and her sister did start high school, but the nearest high school was in Barrie.  Nowadays, Barrie is only about a 15 minute drive from Brentwood, but in those days a daily commute was not possible and the Schell sisters boarded with their Aunt Ellie in town.  Mom was a Daddy's girl and missed her home.  After the Christmas break, she did return to Barrie but was on the edge of a nervous breakdown and her parents was able to get a doctor's note to drop out of school.

After dropping out of school, she spent her time on the family farm and honing her knitting and crotchet skills.  Even though she was still in her early teens, she had already set her eyes, and heart, on the local farm boy, Jack Allen.  But he played hard to get.  The local social scene in the early 1940s centred around dances supporting troops stationed at nearby Camp Borden.  The Schells boarded one of the teachers from the two room school just down the road.  One of Dad's friends wanted to date the teacher but she was only willing to do so a double date, so the friend talked Dad into serving as Mom's date.  That double date eventually led to the marriage of my parents, but the other couple never progressed beyond a few dates.

Dad always claimed that Mom chased him.  Mom agreed with that, to some extent.  But according to her, each Sunday at church, when she asked Jack to come to dinner, he would hmm and haw saying that he had farm chores to do.  At some point, Mom found out from one of his sisters, that Jack always made sure he did his share in the morning and was able to leave the evening chores to his other brothers.  (The benefit of my the second oldest of 6 boys.)  This was at a time when Mom would have only been in her mid-teens and Dad was 6 1/2 years older!  

When Mom was in her late teens, she started working as an assistant cook at a seniors home in Barrie.  So she was back to boarding in Barrie again, but when she went home on the weekends, she had Jack waiting for her.  She did raise eyebrows of her coworkers with her knitting of baby outfits.  The baby items were for her future sister-in-law.  I'm not sure at what point they started talking about marriage, but Dad wouldn't give her an engagement ring until she was 18 and they married the following year when she was 19.

Once married, they tried to live in an apartment in Barrie.  But they missed the country and soon moved into the Schell farmhouse while Dad built a house on a lot his father sectioned off of the Allen farm.  That house is still standing today.  Even though he was a country boy at heart, Dad had decided that he did not want to be a farmer.  He started working as a plumber and steamfitter for a company doing construction jobs at Camp Borden.  As that company expanded, Dad was sent to other towns and cities for jobs.  In the mid 1950's he was sent to Kingston for two years.  My older brother was born in 1952 and Mom stayed home in Brentwood with the baby and Dad came home on the weekends.  Mom did not drive, but she would have a diaper bag packed ready if her mother or other family member stopped by for an outing.  The two year assignment in Kingston was extended as more construction jobs were obtained.  At the encouragement of his employer, Dad moved his family to Kingston.  Mom said that one of the first things she did when she arrived in Kingston was to learn the bus system so that she could get around as there was no extended family members available to drive and Dad would be working.

On the belief that Kingston would still be temporary, they lived in an apartment and maintained the Brentwood house for weekend visits.  But the drive was almost 6 hours, each way, so it was a lot of driving for Dad and Mom felt that most of her time in Brentwood was spent cleaning the house that had been empty all week.  So they sold the house to a family friend.  They were still living in the apartment when I was born in 1959.  By 1962, it was evident that the Kingston move was permanent and they started to look for a house.  Mom still was not driving and would not consider a house in the suburbs as there was no bus system in place.  They eventually bought a house on what was the outskirts of the city at the time.  Mom was still living in that house in October 2022 when she had the mini stroke that impaired her vision and caused the mobility issues that forced her into hospital and then nursing home for the last 2 1/2 years of her life.  My younger brother still lives in the house.

Except for the short time that she worked at the senior's home, Mom did not work outside of the home.  But she was not "just" a housewife.  As Dad worked long hours, 7 days a week, Mom did many of the traditional male jobs to maintain the house.  She moved furniture around when she decided to paint a room, she did the BBQing, mowed the lawn, took out the garbage and she shoveled the driveway.  And still had dinner on the table when Dad got home.  

She also continued knitting and crocheting well into her later years until her eyesight started to give problems, as well as arthritis in her hands.  In the 1970s, she also took up quilting, using the frames her mother had used.  The quilt tops were hand sewn by her, as well as her sister (and a few by me), but Mom did the quilting - by hand.  She also did quilting for others.  When my cousins started getting married, Mom decided to give a quilt as the wedding gift.  This was not a small undertaking as there were over 30 nieces/nephews.  In addition to quilts, Mom also designed tote bags made out of the log cabin quilt block.  She never advertised, but sold hundreds just by word of mouth.  After her death this past February, several people made a point of telling me that they still have their treasured quilt and/or tote bag.

When Dad died in August 1990, Mom felt her life was over.  But everyone that heard her tale of woe pointed out that her adult children still needed her.  Three years later, her interest in life picked up again when I met and married a divorced father of two (aged 6 and 4) and she soon became a proud Nana.  Even up to the end of her life, she and her grandson bonded with their love of the Toronto Blue Jays.

Mom was a devoted Blue Jay fan from Day One.  On a mini vacation to Toronto, she and I were able to do a tour of the SkyDome when it was still under construction - but at a stage that they opened it up for guided tours.  During their hey days in the early 1990s, when you heard Mom talk, one would think she was on first name basis with Cito Gatson as well as many of the players.  Even though we lived almost 3 hours away, we would attend several games each year.  If not in person, she faithfully watched the games on television - even the west coast games, she would stay up until after midnight to try to pull out a win.  Mom also accompanied my brothers several times when they visited Florida during Spring Training.  On one visit, she got to talk on the sidelines to one of her favourite announcers and then was thrilled when he later sat with her in the stands to talk further.

Mom was a great cook and baker.  Nothing fancy, just plain meat and potatoes meals and make do with what ingredients you have on hand.  She did get a bit fancy with desserts - her great love.  She would plan meals around the dessert and would bring dessert to our house as she knew both my husband and myself were not great dessert lovers and it was usually an afterthought for us.  Even in a restaurant she would have to look over the dessert menu or cart, even if she was too full to order dessert.  My husband loved her rum balls and she was still making them for him in her 90s.

She was a feisty woman, not a meek and mild housewife, and would stand her ground.  When she was concerned that her elderly mother was being over medicated, she called her mother's doctor to confront him.  At the time, I was working in the medical library at Queen's University and had looked up the various prescriptions in a pharmaceutical "bible" and at least one of drugs listed caution in prescribing to the elderly in unsupervised situations.  My Grandmother was living alone at the time.  I had emphasized to my mother to stress to the doctor the source of her information was a legitimate medical book and not a supermarket tabloid.  Needless to say, the doctor took offense and asked where she had obtained her medical diploma.  Mom lit into the doctor before the doctor hung up on her.  A short time later, the doctor called her back to apologize.  

Mom was also feisty with salespeople and telemarketers.  Over the years, she had more than one call from a real estate saying that they had a client interested in purchasing her 4 bedroom brick bungalow on a cul de sac.  When Mom asked where the caller expected her to live, the answer was that they would sell her another house.  She would tell the agent to sell that house to their client and she would not have to move.  Kingstonians has always been notorious for resisting change.  For several decades, their was debates over what could and should be done with the downtown waterfront area that had previously been shipyards and trainyards.  Developers would try to buy the land with grandiose plans on how to develop the property.  At one point, a campaign to resist a planned development and were trying to get people to sign a petition.  A person had the unfortunate experience in calling my mother and was taken aback when she not only was unwilling to support their petition but told them it was about time that something was done with the abandoned land so the city could start collecting tax money.  

At a union workshop one time, participants were asked to name a woman they admired.  My choice was my mother.  Although her choice to be a homemaker contradicted my feminist views, I acknowledged that she was still her own woman and not just an extension of her husband.  Dad would joke that the way to get her to do something was to tell her that she could not do it.  In addition to the outdoor chores she did, she was prepared to do indoor maintenance and repairs rather than wait until Dad had time to do it.  She would drill a hole through the floor or wall to run coaxial cable when she wanted a tv in the kitchen or a bedroom.  But Dad was prepared to cook when necessary.  In the late 1960s/early 1970s, Mom had several stays in the hospital (broken ankle, gall stones, kidney stones, hysterectomy, etc.).  Dad would have me peel potatoes but he would cook the meal when he got home from work, then visit Mom in the hospital and then return home to do his evening paperwork before going to bed.

Over the years, Mom would lament that they rarely did anything as a couple.  She did manage to get Dad to join a mixed bowling league with her.  When my brothers got Dad into golf with them, he encouraged Mom to take up golf as well.  She tried a time or two but said that she had chased too many cows around fields as a child, she wasn't going to chase a little white ball around a field.  Growing up, we never had a family vacation (except for trips to the grandparents every holiday weekend) because of Dad's work ethic and responsibilities.  So Mom was ecstatic when my brothers were able to talk Dad into going on a golf vacation to Myrtle Beach.  At that time, I told Mom that there was no way she was going to sit at home while Dad vacationed, so she and I went to Las Vegas.  That was the start of many trips to Sin City as Mom loved to gamble.  She could not pass a slot machine without feeding at least one coin in.

We had our disagreements over the years.  In my midteens, I announced that I planned to move out the day I got a full time job.  She burst into tears, wanting to know how she failed as a mother.  I tried to assure her that that was not the reason, I wanted to be able to know I could live independently and not have to rely on a parent or husband.   When she would visit me, she would often start cleaning.  At first I took offense that she was faulting my cleaning and I wanted her to relax and visit.  In later years, I realized it was her way of feeling needed and worthy.

When my husband was transferred to Saskatchewan for his work, Mom was upset that she was loosing us.  I pointed out to her that it was similar to when she moved from Brentwood to Kingston for her husband's work.  Although Saskatchewan was much further away from Kingston than Brentwood was, flights were only a few hours.  She did visit a few times and I did as well during the two years we were out west.  One of her visits was when we had the house up for sale in preparation of another work transfer - not back to Kingston, but Ottawa, which was close.  One day we had an unexpected showing while we were at work and could not get Mom to answer the phone to give her a heads up.  When I got home, I asked her about the showing and she claimed that no one had shown up.  When I showed her the business card that had been left by the agent, we realized that the showing took place at a point that Mom was napping.  She then suggested that she should get a cut of the money if those people bought the house.  I told her it depended on whether they wanted the old lady included or excluded in the purchase.

In October 2016, another work transfer necessitated our move to New Brunswick.  Once again, she visited us a few times until airlines cut back on their flights due to Covid.  By the time flight schedules were getting back to normal, she did not want to travel for health reasons.  My husband and I managed to visit a couple of times a year.  At the time we were getting married, my husband had assured my mother that he was not stealing me away from her, but would always share me with her.  Every time we arrived back in Kingston, he would remind my mother of that promise.

My older brother died unexpectedly in June 2022 due to complications following open heart surgery to replace a mechanical valve.  No parent expects to have to bury a child.  But Mom handled it quite well and dealt with the changes it made to her life.  She still continued to cook some meals as well as basic house cleaning.  Until she had a mini stroke in October 2022.

Even after suffering a mini stroke at the age of almost 93, Mom's mind was still alert.  While she was still in the hospital, she would get agitated when staff were constantly asking her her name, the date and where she was.  She never hesitated in answering - even to which floor she was on in the hospital.  Sometimes she may not have known the exact date, but she knew the month.  She always knew who we were, although some times it would take her a few minutes to accept that the person standing in front of her was who she thought it was. 

My last visit with her was this past Christmas.  We had decided to delay our fall visit until December to celebrate her 95th birthday with her.  And my stepdaughter was able to fly in from Halifax as well to be with her brother to celebrate their well loved Nana's birthday.  Even on her birthday, she was still alert and knew people who stopped in to visit her.   She seemed to be thrilled with the attention and wore the special headband and badge all day.

For his workplace assignment in his training to be a PSW, my stepson had been assigned to Mom's nursing home starting in February.  He was not working on her floor, but was able to stop in to see her sometimes.  One of the times, he joined her at lunchtime and she told him that she wasn't cooking for him.

We are so glad that we had risked bad weather at Christmas time to travel to spend time with Mom on her 95th birthday as she passed away just 7 weeks later.   Her end was quick.  Even though her wing was on limited visitations (due to some bug) my stepson had visited her on Wednesday and she was her normal self.  But by Saturday, her vital signs had started failing and by Sunday she was taken to the hospital and died a short time later.  As with life, she died on her agenda.

For the past several years, Mom would state that there would be no sense in having a public funeral as there would be no one left to attend.  We did have a public funeral and although there were only a few people of Mom's generation able to attend, attendees included neighbours, family friends, as well as my late brother's boss.  A large number of nieces/nephews and their family also travelled from out of town, despite potential of another winter storm.