Nanny

You may wonder why I'd start a blog about Nanny wth a picture of Papa.  Well, it seems to me over the years that news of Papa, articles on Papa, blogs on Papa and pictures and memories of Papa have been constant, as they should be. When we think of Papa we think of teacher, principal, athlete, outdoorsman, community leader and family man.  When we think of Nanny, we think of 'mother', 'homemaker (in every sense of the word) and 'wife'.  Not too many people celebrated or wrote about what some would define as the most important 'job' on earth.  Nanny is the poster girl for motherhood.  She took this role seriously and fulfilled every aspect of it, from beginning to end.

In my mind, this picture probably reflects the happiest years of her life.  She is surrounded by her family and I don't doubt for a second that this family brought her more pride, joy and contentment than anything else she had experienced in her life.

I am not the one to tell her life story but I can tell you a few of the bits I know.  Irene Howard met Henry Watson during the war in England.  She had lost a fiancé  and he had lost a wife.  All of her friends believed she had met the most handsome Canadian abroad (and they were probably right).  Henry fell in love with Irene and found out too late in love that she was 12 years his junior.  It was the beginning of a legacy I don't imagine they ever saw coming.  They married and their first child, Brian, was born in a castle in Scotland during the war.  Henry returned to Canada and months later Irene and Brian boarded a ship and then a train to come from Hastings, England, all the way across Canada, across the Georgia Strait and up-island to the tiny town of Cumberland.  I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it was for her (an only child) to leave her doting parents behind and make the trek to a small coal-mining town on the other side of the the ocean and the country.

What a way to start a new life.  So many unknowns, such a long journey away from her roots.   So many of us describe our lives as 'ordinary' and I am sure Irene would have used this word if you had asked her about her life.  An ordinary woman does not leave her mark on the world the way Irene has.  Just ask her children about all their mother gave them in life - motherhood was her niche, her super power, her gift.  Just ask her grandchildren how she made them feel.  So much love does not come form an ordinary woman.  Irene, we will miss the 'just one more' passing of the dessert tray, the gentle touch of your hands on our wee ones, the oh-so-special shortbread and apple tarts that only Nanny could make.  Without saying a word you taught us life lessons that we will never forget.  Most of all we will miss the gentle, overflowing sense of love you gave us all.  You will be forever missed and forever remembered!  This picture below is how I will always remember. you, that gentle touch only you had and always at your best with a baby in your arms.