The mentor who didn’t tell me how to live but showed me
I met Irish Margaret around 1995 in White Rock when she and her husband Eamonn were in their early fifties and I was in my early thirties. She was the oldest and the one to stay in touch to keep tabs on the larger clan across the pond. Irish Margaret was the kind of lady you either loved or hated. I loved her.
They lived in an older large home on High Street. The house was probably 3,000 square feet on two basic floors. They did extensive renovations to accommodate borders in the basement to augment her husband’s modest paychecks from the lumber mill and did that for years. They raised one daughter.
Margaret cooked a sit-down Sunday meal every week upstairs and borders eagerly climbed the stairs to attend. Eamonn was part of an accordion band and the daughter grew up Irish Step dancing (and later married a fellow who played the bag pipes). As a result, Margaret threw the most Irish of parties this side of the Atlantic with a homecooked food and live entertainment for 100 people each year!
Eamonn was wonderful at landscaping their yard by changing up the points of interest every few years. They included different water features, gnomes, bird houses and doo-dads (eye balls in the trees I remember one year). A mutual friend, Frank, was in a gardening club and he cultivated roses for various competitions. All his throw-aways landed in Margaret and Eamonn’s yard and they ending up having the most beautiful rose garden. Margaret shopped the thrift stores for vases to put birthday bouquets together.
Margaret’s sense of humor matched her giant heart. My life is filled with thirty years of stories illustrating her love, humor, and generosity. She purchased $100 worth of custom Christmas cards when I was trying to ‘make it’ in the art world. Her borders were often chosen in the hopes of being able to offer a leg up and not just a place to live. She believed in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself.
Another story I fondly remember is when the accordion band was over practicing and Margaret had the idea of welcoming the new neighbours who had just moved in around the corner. She led the accordion players down the middle of the street with a corn broom held high one bright Saturday morning. She probably took a homemade loaf to prove she wasn’t just all fun and games. Or the one about a cop who knocked on her door to repossess a hot water tank she and her husband bought in in good faith from someone trying to make something of himself. At five feet tall she tore a strip off the 6’3’ cop calling him a big lummox and didn’t let him in. That is the kind of woman she is.
Margaret made no bones about telling you what she thought of a situation but could always put a humorous spin on it. Premarital sex and robbing the cradle are a couple topics that come to mind. Only she could make you laugh at yourself – in front of others too – and make a point at the same time. She loved you whether she agreed with you or not and you knew it; you could feel it. Many went to her on the quiet when they wanted true help, which solidified her standing in the community even further. She was active in church prison ministry and took an inmate under her wing when he was released. I do believe that played an influential role in reuniting him with his family in the UK, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was still in touch with him from time to time. She did plenty of volunteer work and was active in many different arenas.
In short, Margaret was a fireball that didn’t quit.
After 30 years in the home in White Rock, they moved to a double lot in Fort Langley where they did an extreme make-over to a little rancher and join forces to build an adjoining newly constructed house for their daughter and son-in-law. She and Eamonn took in a wayward nephew from across the pond to live with them in the fifth wheel while construction was underway. He was there probably a year, maybe more.
Two grandchildren came along and Margaret and Eamonn were active in helping to raise them. Margaret was on before-and-after-school duty from day one and did it the whole time. She got along with all kids and when the softwood lumber industry collapsed and Eamonn took to driving a school bus, Margaret made cookies to send along with him to give to the kids. I remember thinking, “Who does that?”
Ann Landers had nothing on Margaret who was my own go-to for gracious etiquette. She advised me on how to send thank you notes for Christmas and birthday money. ‘Be sure to tell them what you bought, and don’t just say towels or a picture. Tell them how the turquoise blue matches perfectly, or how the picture of Gerber daisies is looks terrific in that spot beside the orange chair’. Margaret knew how to help people feel good about themselves.
Eamonn shocked us all and died in his mid-60s within months after the detection of a left-field health condition. The renovations and newly constructed house were just months completed and the grand kids very young. It took a couple of years for Margaret to regroup and we were all very worried about her but eventually, to our relief, she did bounce back.
The daughter’s marriage broke down, and the double houses were sold when the grandchildren were in middle school. Mom, dad and Granny relocated in respective townhouses with Granny in the middle. Granny again spearheaded a large renovation in the basement to accommodate the soon-to-be teenagers as she continued to be active in the grandchildren lives.
Post Covid, when air travel was just getting going again and was a real mess she decided to take the two teenagers to Ireland to meet the rellies. I thought she was crazy and let her know but she was clear and determined. It turned out that, due to her past good works, they got the royal red carpet rolled out both ways by a friend and her connections who couldn’t do enough for them.
When the grandchildren started spending less time with her, Margaret started taking in foreign high school students – Italian and Spanish. She was in her 70’s at this point. The two bedrooms in the basement had a fully furnished living room and kitchenette where the students stayed very comfortably. She cooked the main meals and did the teens’ laundry, scolding them that for every pair of kegs (knickers) she expected to see a pairs of socks! Margaret conversed with the overseas parents to assure them all was well and stuck up for one boy at the local high school by chewing out the principal. She hosted local sightseeing excursions for visiting parents and her reputation grew among the student circles. She was never without a billet for the next year.
After Covid, when her youngest grandchild was in her last year of high school and Margaret was 83, she decided to move to England where her siblings and their families were. Everyone thought she was nuts. Except her. After 50 years in Canada, she wanted to live out her life around her siblings. Her sister was the mayor of the little town she was going to and she had plenty of nieces, nephews, great-nieces and great nephews. She sold her immaculate townhouse the first weekend it was on the market to the second highest bid receiving $70,000 over asking price. She packed a shipping container to the brim, paid $6,000 to bring her happy, floppy Shih Tzu, Bennie, and in August of 2023 she and Bennie set off to a new life in England.
She called early morning on January 1st (2024) to wish me a Happy New Year. She was three weeks into the new little bungalow she bought and the shipping container had arrived. It was complete mayhem she said, yet a friend from Canada was due over to help unpack but that would be limited because she was planning yet another renovation. The two spare rooms were small but adequate and the master bedroom and living room were a decent size. But the kitchen and bathrooms needed help. When I asked if this was the fifth reno over her lifetime, she replied, “Yes, I guess it is” and she went quiet. “I never thought of it like that before.”
When I asked about her health, she said it had actually improved. I can relate because I know what happened to my health when I moved to a more likeminded, understanding community. We talked only 15 minutes or so but it was enough to set the tone for my next year. I wished her nothing but the best in 2024 and hung up feeling so enriched by just knowing her. She saw the potential in people and drew it out for all to behold.
So, it is with much gratitude and respect I write these words to honor my dear friend and mentor Irish Margaret who didn’t so much tell me how to live but showed me. ❤️