Creation

Remembering Camille

Posted June 27, 2020 by Eden

It’s been a year since we lost Camille so we are gathering to share our memories. With the pandemic, most are remote via zoom and some will be together.

Camille’s sisters have shared some writings about her in the following paragraphs. Camille was the eldest of four, followed by Jane, Patti and Suzie.

Jane Eden:

Over this past year, I have thought a lot about Camille. So many memories go through my mind and I realize how much we shared over the years. When she developed Dementia, I felt like she slowly slipped away from me. It was hard to have any kind of relationship for the last few years.

She was the perfect big sister. She was smart and confident. I respected her opinion. Sometimes I felt that we were as different as night and day but I always felt that she was looking out for me the way that big sisters do.
In high school we were both athletic and on school teams in volleyball and basketball. She was a sewer, knitter and an actor on stage. She played the cello and I played the clarinet in the school orchestra. I wrote for the school newspaper and sang in the choir. And over on Gair Drive in Alderwood, there was a lot of teenage social activity at the Perry house.
I remember the early years when Eden and Randy were born and Camille and Ola lived in an apartment in Etobicoke. I was a student nurse in Woodstock. Over those 3 years, I was back and forth to Toronto, to spend a 3 month stint studying and working at the Hospital for Sick Children, studying Pediatrics. Later, another 3 month stint at the Clarke Institute of Psychiatry to study Psychiatry.

I would take the street car out to Etobicoke to visit and spend time with Eden and Randy and visit with Camille and Ola. I loved to spend time with the little ones and watch them grow and get to know them. I remember Camille the cookie maker – hermits, peanut butter, chocolate chip. She was always sweeping that kitchen floor. I sat in the kitchen and watched her spin the lettuce to dry it and make Caesar salad.

Camille was a life long learner and I loved that about her. She had knowledge and I learned. Over the years when I needed a lift or some advice or a new book to read to give me some direction, I went to Camille. She discovered the EST training (later called the Forum) and completed the programme and was transformed. Just about everybody in the family followed her example and did the programme too. We all gained from that experience, thanks to Camille.

Camille and I confided in one another and it was invaluable to me to just have someone to talk to who cared and would listen. I went through a number of relationship breakups over the years and Camille was always there to listen. Camille and I played a lot of Backgammon and Crib and just talked.

When I was going through the transitions of life and moving my home, Camille and Ola were kind enough to take me in and I lived with them for a period of time. At this point I was a single parent and I appreciated the support immensely.

Camille gave so much to her family – her time and attention, her love and she was also so generous with gifts and money to everyone.
How fortunate I was to have Camille in my life for as many years as I did.I am so grateful.

The love and support that you gave me will always be with me.

I will love you forever.
Jane

Susan James:

My thoughts have turned to Camille many many times over this past year since her death. It is hard to put into words the value of someone we have loved our whole lives – the influences on our character, the insights gained by sharing our own innermost struggles and truths with one another, the stability realized by feeling fully accepted by another. Knowing that even if you screw up, you’ll still be loved …

When I was young and restless with 2 little boys at home, Camille would always make me feel welcome to visit her. She knew I loved Toronto, loved the cultural offerings available and so when I’d go to Toronto for a few days, she would look after the kids while I went off to the theatre by myself, to take in the lively energy of the city, it’s hustle bustle, it’s beauty – these times were such a gift to me, and replenished my feeling of connection to city life. She once told me she loved seeing me in the city because it made her remember again the good things about Toronto.

Through the years Camille and I both found ourselves on a path of spiritual investigation – one which never stopped. We had great discussions and as she immersed herself in tapes and books in what was known as the New Age movement. She was endlessly generous to me, donating materials to read or listen to, exposing me to thinkers who were new to me. Neither of us felt called to follow a religious path – it was more of a quest through conscious psychology and spiritual discovery to feel the presence of the Divine in our lives. These were not mainstream ideas yet so it was very affirming to have another person with whom to share our newest thoughts and insights. She wasn’t one to preach to me, but rather taught by example, and always remaining curious, open to new ideas and possibilities. I think of her with deep gratitude as my spiritual mentor.

Certainly Camille influenced all the members of her family when she discovered The est Training, now called The Forum. It opened many to the possibilities available by shifting one’s way of looking at our lives and the lives of those around us, by recognizing the limitations of the ego and getting stuck in our individual soap operas. It was a foundational course for me. Some 35 years later I discovered Panache Desai who took much the same philosophy but incorporated the sacred with the technique. She would have been as delighted as I was to experience his teachings but by then her dementia had progressed and we could no longer have those conversations.

A beautiful quality she had which I think about often is her playfulness and sense of humour. Her laugh was infectious, and her ability to see the absurdity in life and find humour in ordinary everyday things was so refreshing and uplifting. At times when I find myself feeling blue I realize I just need to laugh more – lighten up! I believe it’s one reason she cherished all her grandchildren so much – kids naturally laugh and see humour far more easily than adults do, so she had great access to laughter through them. Each one gave her great joy.

I realize that ‘my Camille’ was different than yours. No, SHE wasn’t different, it’s just that my experience of her, my appreciation of certain aspects of her, my feelings about her were mine. Just as each of you will have your own Camille. To me she was my big sister, my friend, my mentor, my confidant, my person who I could always count on to love me warts and all. I know that each of you have your own memories and impressions, and opinions of who/what she was in your life. And they’ll all be different. But I expected one thing that isn’t, one overriding thought/feeling/memory that will be a constant among all of us: when we think of Camille, we think of love. Is there any better legacy to leave behind?

Patti Cragg wrote and shared this story at the celebration of life. It is called “Memories of Camille”Download

My Mother, Camille

Posted July 15, 2019 by Eden

My mother passed away on June 29, 2019 in Collingwood Hospital at the age of 75. This is the eulogy that I read at her Celebration of Life at Alpine Ski Club on July 12th.

Camille Perry was born in 1943 at Toronto Western Hospital. Her mother Jean Earle Perry Thompson, from Newfoundland came to Toronto for nurse’s training. Camille’s father, Wib Perry, was disappointed when he was ineligible for military service due to his affliction with polio as a child. Jean and Wib had a whirlwind courtship, married and had four daughters, first Camille and then Jane, Patti, and Suzie. Wib worked in Radio and Advertising, leading the family to move to Vermont and California where Patti and Suzie were born, eventually settling back in Toronto.

Some of the events of her early years affected who Camille would become. She often chuckled at the irony of a father who always wanted a son and ended up with 5 daughters. He left her mother at a time when divorce was infrequent, remarried and had another daughter, Anita, Camille’s half-sister who lives in BC. Camille was 12 when they were left to pick up the pieces with a despondent mother. Camille took her role as eldest seriously and had a strong sense of responsibility for her mother and sisters. When their father left, Jean packed her girls up to spend time in Newfoundland with her family. Our mother often referenced her memories of Fogo Island, playing bridge with her grandparents, bonding with her relatives there. She always felt a connection to Newfoundland and visited again later in life.

The family returned to Toronto where Camille was a gifted student at Alderwood High School near the Lakeshore. Ola, who was student council president, recalls the night they got together, a Sadie Hawkins dance where she picked him out of a line-up of young men. Once together, they were inseparable. Camille loved to sew clothes and made them shirts from the same fabric which led to teasing of Ola but he still wore the shirts. They were the nicest ones he owned.

Ola and Camille were in love, discovered they were expecting a child in Grade 13. Both had planned to go to university. This caused great consternation with the school and with Ola’s family. They married on March 9, 1962 at a Salvation Army chapel and began their life together in a small apartment in Etobicoke, both leaving school after Ola completed Grade 13. I was born four months later in July 1962. Randy was born 15 months later in October, 1963.

Our parents were young so sometimes I thought they were growing up along with us, especially my dad. 🙂 Ola worked hard and built a career for himself in sales and soon had his own businesses. Camille was a stay at home mother who was determined to go to university. Once Randy and I started school, she enrolled at York University where she earned her Bachelor of Arts in Economics. My parents had their ups and downs in those years, as so many couples do, but ultimately, they chose each other and recommitted to their life together with a new baby. Rebecca was born in 1973.

As a child, I remember mom creating special memories for my brother and I, unexpected days off school just to do fun things, making cookies, buying and decorating our very own Christmas trees, making plastic mold creatures, trips to the Ex, mini shopping sprees. Ten years later, I saw mom create special interests and activities that she shared with my sister. And when grandchildren came along, she planned days with them, took some of them to Disney World in Florida, spoiled them with attention and wonderful gifts or cash to spend on their birthdays and Christmas.

My mother helped my dad with accounting work for his businesses but as they grew, she stepped away. It wasn’t what she loved to do. She always had a sewing machine and often would make clothes for us. She explored other crafts: knitting and crochet, macramé, jewellery making, weaving – for a time she had a huge weaving loom and even dyed the yarn. She owned a craft store, the Stich N Post in Markham and I remember we would sometimes have a booth at craft shows and fairs. She’d get us all into her latest interest. I remember macramé owls everywhere and jars of beads, sitting together, making necklaces or working with polymer clay.

We had a cottage in Huntsville and enjoyed weekends and family gatherings there. As a family, we started skiing at Curlew Ski Club but eventually moved to the Collingwood area, first at the Toronto Ski Club and then Alpine Ski Club. My mother skied in the early years but preferred to stay home with her sewing machine while the rest of the family enjoyed the winter sports. She never wanted to go faster than snowplowing.

When I became a mother, our relationship grew and I turned to her for help with my boys so many times, I couldn’t possibly count. Jordan was born while Doug and I were in 3^rdyear at the University of Waterloo and she would drive up to take Jordan for a week over exams or anytime we needed. When we started our careers and both had to travel, she was a short call away. She would come and stay at our house or take the kids home with her. She never said no when I asked for help, and she always worked out what would make my life easier.

My mother discovered the art of quilting around 1985. She’d found the ultimate artistic outlet for her, combining her mathematical skills with her years of sewing and crafts with her strong creative sensibilities and aptitude for colour. Once captivated, she worked night and day on her quilts, attended classes and conferences, eventually developed her own designs and went on to write six books on quilting. As her expertise grew, she loved to share her knowledge and enthusiasm with others, by teaching at special events and conferences, as far away as Australia, and as president of the York Heritage Quilt Guild and member of the Mad & Noisy Quilters in the Georgian Triangle. Camille was also on the board of the Ontario Crafts Council.

Camille and Ola have seven grandchildren, my three sons Jordan, Perry and Tyler, Randy’s three, Ryley, Roni, and Austen, and Rebecca’s son, Jasper. Camille loved spending time with her grandchildren and had a special relationship with each of them.

Mom was always seeking answers to life’s greater questions. Everything from self-help books and workshops (if she believed it would make a difference, she enrolled everyone in the family) to eastern philosophies and religions and meditation, new age tapes and events involving speakers like Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, and Louise Hay. She was concerned with quieting the mind, maintaining positive energy, believed in karma and reincarnation. Words mattered. She often commented on my stress level and ‘busy mind’, wanted me to ‘relax’. She collected little books with wisdom quotes, often sharing insights she thought were helpful.

Camille and Ola enjoyed travel and had many special trips together and with family, including Norway, a tour of the UK, an adventure in China, the youth Olympics in Austria with family to see her granddaughter win a silver medal, Egypt, a family trip to Lake Louise on her 70^thbirthday and many other fun times. My parents have a winter home in Florida near St Pete’s beach where they have been members at Isla Del Sol Golf Club. They were early, “Eagle” members at Osler Brook Golf club, involved in the building of the club house and we appreciate so many from the club who have come to honour her. She enjoyed golfing and regularly attended the weekly ladies golf days and life at the club for many years but she has been unable to golf for a couple of years now.

Everyone is aware that my mother’s last few years took a sad and unexpected turn. We trace the beginnings of her dementia to an unfortunate episode with pancreatitis in late 2014. She was in extreme pain and spent days in hospital on morphine. That fall and winter, as she recovered, there were a few odd incidents of hallucinations and forgetfulness. Ola started to notice some uncharacteristic mistakes with their finances and assumed control in late 2015.

In 2016, it was becoming apparent that something was wrong. Finally we got her to a specialist appointment. The first diagnosis in August 2016 was Alzheimer’s, middle stages. Devastating shockwaves went around the family. The doctor said nothing could be done, no prescriptions that would help.

But then Camille’s symptoms became increasingly bizarre – including constant hallucinations. Based on this, the doctor changed her diagnosis to suspected Lewy Body Dementia. In this case, medication could help for a while. She went on it and we also began to research. So much is unknown about the causes for dementia which is becoming epidemic. Many of you have shared with us incidents within your own family and there are many new studies and information. My dad was committed to helping her and got her on supplements, adjusted her diet, enrolled her in a special program.

Mom started to improve dramatically with these treatments and her constant hallucinations all but stopped by the end of 2016. We had a reprieve. She wasn’t fully back to being the old Camille but she was still with us and we had some better times for a couple of years. My father has really stepped up throughout all of this, although it’s taken a toll on him. I could not be more impressed or proud of Ola for how he cared for my mother but it wasn’t about duty for him, it was about love.

Sadly, her decline was evident in the past 6 months and we worried about the inevitable next step for her, a nursing home. She would have hated that and what was happening to her. I believe her spirit intervened. She had inner reserves of strength and wisdom that are hard to describe. Just a month ago, she shared her desire to move on from this life in a surprisingly succinct voice. I think some part of her figured it out. In the end, however, it was severe rapid-onset pneumonia that brought her to the hospital on father’s day and she passed a couple of weeks later.

Although her final years were tragic while we slowly lost pieces of the woman we’d loved, Camille was sweet most of the time and knew her family. She still carried herself with the grace and dignity that was inherent to her character. Her great sense of humour prevailed and she could still laugh to the point of tears. We will miss her constant presence in our lives.

But now it’s time to remember Camille for who she was her whole life, not just in the last years when she was unwell.

Camille was a beautiful woman inside and out, strong and dignified, reserved, sensitive, private, full of heart, creative, inquisitive, a searcher for spiritual wisdom, she appreciated simple pleasures and the beauty of nature, she was smart, practical and organized, committed to her family and loyal. She could be somewhat of a loner with an artist’s temperament yet also socially engaging, friendly, outgoing, even the life of the party at times. She could be stubborn and had strong opinions. Doug used to say “your mother has the gift of clarity” and it was true. She loved to share the wisdom she was gaining in her studies of new age philosophies and insights into the human condition.

She had a unique sense of humour. If she found something funny, she would laugh until she cried, most notably at the adorable things that children would share. She had strong morals, was always clear on what was right and wrong, common courtesy and decency were critical, was always kind and considerate. She was generous with her time and gifts, especially of money. Her grandchildren will remember all the $50 bills tucked into the Kinder surprises. She knew the importance of family and community.

For me, she will always be the voice in my head that coaches me to be my best self, to stop stressing, to be kind to myself and others, to follow my creative urges. Now that she is at peace, I can see her in all her stages of life, as a beautiful young mother and wife, as a talented artisan, writer, and teacher, as a loving grandmother and someone who worked hard to create positive energy in the world.

Birthday Time

Posted July 10, 2016 by Eden

Another Birthday. I think there have been enough by now that we really don’t need to acknowledge them. 🙂 It’s lovely though, how many people reach out on social media or email and of course, my fabulous sons and husband are always so thoughtful.

As I get older and say goodbye to some along the way, the proof of my mortality looms somewhere ahead. I find myself constantly trying to put my life in context, to lighten up, to appreciate people more without the pressure, the stress, the striving, the paranoia that drives us. Someone posted this quotation on Facebook and I thought it was perfect.

“I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.

Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”

~ Brené Brown

Celebrating the Life of Agnes Remme

Posted June 24, 2016 by Eden

Agnes Remme (April 7, 1924 – June 15, 2016) also known as Mom, Grandma, Great-Grandma and Aunt Agnes, was born Agnes Agatha Niedzwiecki in 1924 to Polish immigrants on their farm in Huntsville, Ontario. They’d come to Canada from Krakow as Homesteaders to build a new life with their growing family – Mary, Frank, John, Agnes, Albert and Mac. Of the six siblings, Mary and Mac are still with us.

Agnes was always a beautiful woman with a great, inviting smile and easy laugh. In recent years, she’d retreated into an inner world, partially triggered by the unexpected death of her husband in a ski accident in 1995.

Around 1941, she was named the “Snow Queen” in her hometown, a local beauty pageant and shortly afterwards made her way to Toronto with big sister, Mary, to find office work in the city. It was there that she met Arild Remme on a visit to “Little Norway”, the Norwegian Airforce base on the Toronto Islands. Arild was standing guard and was immediately taken with Agnes. Flirting and then dating led to marriage on November 18, 1942 with their first child, Ola arriving in the summer of 1943. Irene was born in 1944 and then Sandra in 1955.

Agnes was very social, loved to dance and was always fastidious in her appearance and how she kept her home. She worked many jobs over the years to help support her family, including restaurants and a ladies’ fashion store.

Agnes and Arild built their homes, first in Alderwood (the Lakeshore area of Toronto) where they hosted many friends and extended family, and then their cottage which later became their home for many years, in Huntsville. Agnes had a kind, motherly spirit and took great care of her children. She was not the strict disciplinarian in the family although sometimes she had to chase her rebellious son with a flyswatter to keep him in line. It didn’t work, of course.

In addition to her 3 children, Agnes had 7 grandchildren (Eden, Randy, Rebecca, Ryan, Cory, Elissa) and 3 step-grandchildren (Heather, Judy, Pam). Sadly Heather and Cory predeceased her. She had 10 great grandchildren (Jordan, Perry, Tyler, Ryley, Veronica, Austen, Jasper, Mya, Cole, Noah) and many nieces and nephews.

1989 at Doug and Eden's grad party — 1989 Agnes and Arild with Jordan

Agnes and Arild enjoyed people and adventure, travelling with their trailer south (Ft Myers) and west (Banff, Victoria) and later spent time in Norway, visiting with family. They maintained close contact with their Norwegian relatives, with visits on both sides of the Atlantic.

We remember Agnes’ vivacious, cheerful, motherly spirit, her beautiful smile, and the legacy she has left behind in all of us.

Agnes' 90th birthday — Agnes’ 90th birthday

Cory

Posted April 14, 2014 by Eden

Cory Stananought: February 8, 1983 – April 7, 2014

Cory was my cousin. Being almost 20 years older, I remember him as an adorable, little boy, always smiling, high energy, impish. I know he had some troubles along the way, some issues as a teenager but many of us have to overcome growing pains… and he certainly seemed to overcome his. He grew into a charming, handsome, gregarious young man. We’d see each other at family events, Christmases and birthdays and anniversaries… and he seemed to be in his element. Happy, friendly, easy to talk to… everyone was drawn to Cory. His smile, his eyes, his charisma drew you in. He was interested in people. He had interesting stories to tell. He laughed easily and made you feel special.

When he decided to become a sommelier, we were all keen to hear about his adventures, what he was learning, what to look for in a good wine. He loved to share his wines and we loved to drink them. We were all so excited for Cory when we heard that he was accepted into the prestigious Masters of Wine program.

I don’t remember ever seeing him sad or unkind or angry but of course we all have our down times, our struggles and we don’t always want to show them to the world. With the beautiful light that Cory projected, I wonder if there was a price to pay to keep that light shining so bright, to hide the dark thoughts.

In this past week, hearing and reading the comments on facebook from people he touched in his life journey from so many places – Kelowna, Caledon, Camp Pinecrest, Insifil, even France from his vineyard tour – I am hearing the same things that I saw: “one of the greatest smiles I’ve ever seen“, vibrant, caring, kind hearted, exuded positive vibes, enthusiastic, giving, fun, “one of my favourite people I’ve ever met”, “an infectious laugh“, “the most genuine straight up coolest dude ever”, loving, energetic, warm, personable, “the best brother anyone could ask for”, one of the nicest guys, a zany sense of humour, wonderful with kids, the best uncle ever, charming, a very special person, truly a good spirit..

Cory touched people everywhere he went. But now we are all shocked and saddened, trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense. How could such a wonderful young man, with so many talents, with so much personality, with so much love to give, leave us so tragically and so suddenly?

His mother, my Aunt Rene, has asked how she can go on. I know how close they were, how much she loved Cory. I feel deeply for her, and for Ron, and for Ryan and the rest of the family and his many friends. The questions haunt us. How do we go on? How do we make sense of this? How do we understand why? And.. What might I have done so that he could still be with us?

In the end, we must accept that some questions in life just do not have answers. I know we must not dwell on Cory’s tragic end but on the beautiful arc of his life, the smiles that he directed just at us and just for each of us, the loving, kind spirit that he was. They say only the good die young. Some spirits grace our life for a while, not forever. We must see and remember the gift that his life was. To honour Cory, perhaps we can smile a little more, be a little kinder, a little more sensitive to each other’s needs, understanding now that sometimes people are shouldering pain that we just don’t see. We must not blame ourselves or anyone else for his departure, we must let go of our anger and our bitter frustration at not being able to hold him down, to keep him with us. Cory is free now, he is at peace. I will always remember his beautiful smile and I know we will see him again someday.

(This was the speech I gave at Cory’s funeral on April 14th in Collingwood).

Eulogy for My Father

Posted October 12, 2013 by Doug Watt

This eulogy for George B Watt was written and delivered by his youngest son, Doug at his funeral on October 10, 2013 in Simcoe, Ontario.

Childhood

George Watt was born on July 27th, 1925 in Crossett, Arkansas. His father, James Watt, was a construction engineer by trade, and his mother, Maude, born Eva Maude Moser was a nurse, who served in the front lines during World War 1. Dad has an older brother of 2 years, Jim, who like dad served in the ministry, spending his life on the west coast of the US. Jim is not well, and our thoughts and prayers are with him and Marie today, as I know theirs are with us. He also had an older half-brother, Ken, who passed away in the early 1990’s.

At the age of four, following the Stock Market crash of 1929, work in Arkansas dried up and dad’s parents moved them back to the west coast, eventually settling just outside the Vancouver area, where his dad found odd jobs to provide for his family during the difficult years of the depression. Dad and his brother Jim spent many, many hours on the farm of Grandpa Gordon, their step-grandfather, in Langley Prairie, BC. Although money was scarce, these were some of the best times of dad’s young life. While down with dad this past weekend, we found an autobiography that he worked on back in the early 90’s. It has been wonderful to read through it and learn more about dad during his childhood.

As the depression neared its end, Grampa Watt found work at the saw mill in Port, now known as Port Alberni, on Vancouver Island, and moved the family there, where dad spent his teenage years, eventually graduating from Port Alberni High School in 1943. He always talked with such fond memory of his friends from that time, especially his closest buddy Doug Cronk or Cronkie. Mom and dad were back 10 years ago for the 60th Anniversary of his high school graduation and they had a great time.

Armed Forces

After graduation, dad enrolled in the Royal Canadian Air Force, along with many of his classmates and was off to training at a base in Alberta, followed by some time in Saskatchewan, eventually being transferred and stationed in Quebec. During the Quebec Conference of September, 1944, codenamed Octagon, between Churchill and Roosevelt, dad served in the Honour Guard and at one point, as he described it was close enough to take the cigar out of Churchill’s mouth, a man that he always spoke of with great respect. As hostilities in Europe ended, dad was furloughed and, dare I say thankfully, never deployed overseas.
Upon his discharge from the armed forces, at the end of the war in 1945, he returned to Port Alberni, and earned his living as both a truck driver and taxi driver. But during this time, dad also struggled with direction and purpose in his life and began drinking, at times heavily.

Conversion

At the age of 25, during the Labour Day Weekend, dad rowed his boat out to the middle of Sproat Lake late one night, with the intention of ending it all, when he had what he refers to as his “Road to Damascus” experience, a time when God called him to the Ministry. Dad turned his life completely over to God that night, and he honoured his commitment to Him right up to the day he passed. He loved his work on God’s behalf. Amazing Grace was always a special song to dad, because it had such personal meaning for him.

Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound; That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found; Was blind but now I see.

We sang that together in dad’s room on Sunday afternoon.

Courtship, Marriage and kids

He responded to his calling by enrolling in Northern Seminary in Chicago in the fall of 1951. He left Seminary after first year and went to Vancouver, where he worked in a funeral home as an usher (yes, can you imagine someone as bright and chipper as dad welcoming you to a funeral? At one point, as he tells us it, he was asked to tone down the smiling a little bit). Regaining his purpose, he returned to Northern in the fall of 1953, and this is where the fun part starts. In the spring of 1954, once dad discovered that his good friend Herbie Cassels was not going to ask a beautiful young nursing student that dad had first met the previous fall by the name of Helen Rae Gaines, from Paw Paw, Illinois to the spring banquet, dad made his move (after taking his sweet time getting his courage up). They had their first date on March 28, 1954.

Following a brief (very brief) courtship, they were engaged and then married in mom’s hometown of Paw Paw on August 21, 1954, having just celebrated their 59th wedding Anniversary. Dad graduated from Northern in May of 1957, along with good friends Bob Vaughn – he and his wife became Uncle Bob and Aunt Joyce to us, and Bill Brantingham, who along with his wife became Uncle Bill and Aunt Bert. Before graduating and leaving Chicago however, they had their first son, Bill, followed, over the next nine years by Dave and Gord in Trail, BC, home of dad’s first church for four years, and Mary, Bob and yours truly in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, where he served for five years. From Moose Jaw, it was further east to Fort William Baptist Church for five years, and then on to Heron Park Baptist Church in West Hill, where mom and dad became grandparents for the first time, as Bill had his first son Ken. Fifteen additional grandchildren followed, along with two great-grandchildren. As many of you know, Madeleine, following a fight full of grace, dignity, and strength, not unlike her granddad’s left us in April of 2004, and I hope that Madeleine and dad are now together and both here with us today. Churches followed in Ingersoll for ten years, and then Mississauga and Ignace and finally in Vittoria for semi-retirement, before dad ended his formal pastoral years in 2004 when he and mom settled in Simcoe where they have lived happily until dad’s passing on Sunday.

Pastoral Record

Dad kept a Pastoral Record through the years of his Ministry, recording among other things every Baptism, Wedding and Funeral he presided over. Some of you may be in here. And every Sermon he delivered, from his first on September 8, 1957 entitled “Emmanuel – God with Us”, with the text of Matthew 1:23; right through to his final sermon, 122 pages and 47 years later, on April 25, 2004, entitled “You’re Great, Because He is – Jesus Christ”, drawing on the text of Collosians 1:1-18.

For those of you from the church here, I can’t tell you how much it means to me and my brothers and sister, how much George and Helen are loved here. They think so much of all of you. Your kindness and generosity during dad’s physical struggles over the past years have been awesome and we thank you sincerely for it.

Vacations

Dad loved to travel and to drive. He even kept a record of all of our and their vacations beginning in 1958 through to 2001 in his Pastoral Record. He was at home behind the wheel. He recalled fondly his days driving truck or taxi, or even driving the miners up to the mine on the bus when he is was in Ignace. But for me, when I think of dad and driving, I think of our summer vacations. We would climb in the car and we would go… and go… and go.

Toronto to Thunder Bay was a common first day. It usually only took about 20 hours or so, with a stop in Wawa for a five minute bathroom break of course. Station wagons were pretty much the only option available for a family of eight. That would be dad and two of us in the front seat, mom refereeing with two of us in the middle, and then two of us lying down in the back, along with all of the luggage. This was before the seat belt laws of course. Good thing, as summer vacations are some of my favourite childhood memories. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money, so hotels for eight were out of the question. Picture this if you will. You look out your front window and a station wagon pulls in the driveway; and out pour the Watts… eight of them. “Oh Good! The Watts are here… for the next four days”; and so it went, usually for anywhere from four to six weeks just about every summer. The Trendiaks in Thunder Bay; Grandma House and Grace in Moose Jaw; The Rapleys in Trail; Uncle Bob and Aunt Joyce in Mill Bay and Sproat Lake; our newfound cousins the Mosers in Moser River, Nova Scotia; Uncle Bill and Aunt Bert in Marion, Ohio and of course Uncle Russ, Uncle Chet and Aunt Sarah (bless their souls) along with Connie and Cheryl ( our buzzin’ cousins who are thankfully here with us today) and Chet Jr. in mom’s hometown of Paw Paw; Aunt Mary and Uncle Earl with Mark and Earl in Morrisville, Vt; the last 2 feeling like second childhood homes to me. There are more – many more kind, generous people that “took us in”; opened up their homes and their lives and made us feel welcome. For me, summer vacations provided some of the best, longest-lasting memories of my life. And while there will be different memories for my siblings because of our ages, I know they have similar feelings.

Dad never met someone that he didn’t consider a potential future friend for life. Often on our trips, we would pull in to a rest stop for a picnic lunch. Dad would conveniently “forget” the salt and pepper in the car, simply for the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the people at a nearby table, so he could hear their life story and share some laughs with a new friend, then come back and join us 10 minutes later so we could climb back in the car and be on our way. That happened more than once.

Visiting
Meeting people and talking to people was what he loved most about being a Minister. Yes he loved being in the pulpit, and yes he generally enjoyed the workings of the church (at least some of it), but where dad was most comfortable and where I believe God most used dad’s service, was when he was out visiting and sharing with people. He loved it. He lived for it. He fed off it. He would have loved yesterday – a chance to visit with so many people that meant so much to him. When we were all younger, we had the privilege of accompanying dad as he made his rounds, whether it was Trail, Moose Jaw or Thunder Bay. My brothers and Mary and I had access to toys and cookies and candies in houses throughout the church family. I think dad knew that children helped put people at ease and were a way of helping them open up during dad’s visits them. It was also his way of giving mom a much-needed break at home but of course the real reason is it meant that he didn’t have to come right out and ask for a cookie himself. A friend from Ingersoll recently shared with my brother and sister that the reason they attended the Baptist Church is because shortly after moving to Ingersoll, they made the rounds to several of the churches, and Pastor Watt came out to visit them immediately following the week they attended. He made them feel wanted and welcome. Dad made sure he did that with every person that turned up in his church for the first time.

Long after he retired, dad would still tirelessly go out and make the rounds at nursing homes and the hospital, offering kind words, comfort and optimism to many, many people. Pastor Raymond shared a wonderful story with me at the hospital this past weekend. He said that while he was out doing his visitation over the last several years, he would sometimes ask people if others had been in to see them over the past week, and people would tell him “Pastor George”. Pastor Raymond, it has been great spending time with you and sharing with you. You are a special person to my mom and dad, and I am glad that you have agreed to share at dad’s service today. You remind me of my dad…

Letter Writing

Dad loved to write letters. A lot. Seriously, a lot. He viewed it as part of his job as a minister. Correspondence with literally hundreds of people, dare I say thousands, for years hand-written and later on, on his ultra-modern electronic typewriter. Christmas letters went out each year, sharing with everyone the events of the past year in the Watt House. I remember being on stamp or envelope duty early on. It was quite an assembly line getting letters folded, stuffed (and licked, yuck) and stamped and then shipped out. Starting in the early 90’s, he began the monthly family epistles. Early every month, without fail, we would receive a letter from dad. In it was a one-page type written letter, with brief summaries of each of the six of us and our families and our news they had gleaned through phone calls or visits along with a summary of their month. This carried on right up until dad’s shoulder injury back in January 2011, and it always included a short hand-written note from mom or dad, or often both, and more often than not pictures of cats from one of his latest daily cat calendars.

How many of you received a postcard from dad?… that took, oh I don’t know, ten minutes to read… in part because you couldn’t actually read it without a magnifying glass, but mostly because there was the equivalent of two pages of writing on it. Not a lot of “Wish you Were Here” cards where dad was concerned. Between his scotsman blood and his growing up through the depression, he made sure he got his money’s worth out of everything.

Sayings

As we all know, dad had a lot to say… and a very special, uniquely George way of saying it. I’m not sure which dictionary he used, because it was one that I’ve never seen before. And he had a never-ending supply of special sayings, some of which he offered up free of charge to his grandkids to use in their dating pursuits. One of my kids’ favourites was “Hubba, hubba ding, ding; baby you’ve got everything”.

He had one for just about every occasion. At least one. Some of my and my family’s other favourites:

For dinner time: “Apple pie without cheese, is like a kiss without a squeeze”. He had a slice of cheese, preferably old cheddar with every piece of mom’s delicious apple pies.

Or “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream”. That went pretty well with the pie too.

Or if he were upset about the outcome of something: “wouldn’t that rot your socks”.

I’m sure everyone has their own personal favourite. With dad it was never just the words, it was the delivery. He had a twinkle in his eye and a happy, earnest way that he delivered these lines, with the possible exception of “I’ll give you something to cry for”. With six kids in nine years, it wasn’t always just smiles and happiness.

Closing

In closing, I leave you with who my dad was to me. He was an incredibly loving and giving person, not in your face loving, not just “let me tell you how much I love you” loving, but more “let me show you how much I love you”.

He was a dad who always made time for his kids and grandkids. He came to my hockey games, just about all of them, and there were lots. For out of town games, he would often make sure he was available to help drive. My teammates and their fathers thought dad was the greatest, as I heard from many of them when I was older. He sat out there with the other dads, never preachy, never pushy, but they recalled that there something unique and special about him and the way he carried himself.

He was a Minister, who in his own words said “I loved the Ministry”. Because there was very little distinction between George the man and George the Minister, his approach was the same, as he delivered a message of love and generosity, not one of judgment. He walked a fine line sometimes of doing what he felt some in the church expected of him as their Minister, and what he knew God expected of him. In his wake he left thousands of people who all agree there is no one else quite like Pastor George.

He was a husband who loved his wife, dearly. I had the pleasure of sitting with dad last Tuesday after he had been admitted for the final time. I knew that I would probably not have much more time with him, so I brought a voice recorder to capture some of his final thoughts. He told me, with his voice breaking that “I had the best pastor’s wife a man could ever have… and a great mom too”. He was right on both counts. We are privileged to have our mom.

He was a man who cared about others and what they were up to, more than himself. He never complained about his own problems. Whenever I talked to him, he would recall from our previous conversations, anyone that was sick or had a problem, or was facing some kind of upcoming event, and he would ask about them, without fail. On Friday night when my wife Eden and I went to see him in the hospital, his last words to her, when he could barely talk were “How’s your dad?”

He was a man that appreciated his life and felt blessed. Gord and I were down in early September, and I think dad knew the end was not far off. He kept telling us how lucky he was to have such a great family, to have such wonderful kids and grandkids, such great friends, to have such a great wife. I was blown away by the state he was in, despite what was happening to his body.

He was Dad, Granddad, Mr. Watt, he was Pastor George, sometimes just George. He was a humble, yet oh so effective servant for God. He was my dad, and I loved him, and I will miss him.

Note: A sentence I wrote and wished I had included: Dad’s greatness was defined not by the big things that he did, but by the huge number of little things that he did.

Farewell to George Watt

Posted October 7, 2013 by Eden

My father-in-law, George Watt, passed away last night at the age of 88. He has been surrounded by family all weekend, as he lay unconscious in his hospital bed in Norfolk GH in Simcoe, Ontario, after a week of steady decline and failing health over the past year. George was a unique character and one that few will forget if they were fortunate enough to know him. He loved life and he loved people, and rarely let anyone come within his ‘orb’ without engaging them in conversation with his boisterous goodwill and keen interest in their lives. With six kids (with wife Helen), sixteen grandchildren, two great-grandchildren and thousands that he touched in his journey as a Baptist Minister in churches throughout Canada, he will be remembered fondly by many.

My husband, Doug, will be giving the eulogy at his funeral on Thursday and we will post it here afterwards.

This is the link to George’s obituary and details inserted below:

Watt, George B. “Pastor” George went home to be with his Lord peacefully in his 89th year at Norfolk General Hospital on Sunday night. He is survived by his wife of 59 years, Helen (Gaines), his six children; Bill of Barrie; Dave (Yanelis) of Toronto; Gord, of Toronto; Mary Lehto (Adam) of Waterloo; bob Paterson-Watt (Myrna Joy) of Toronto; and Doug (Eden) of Aurora. Also 15 grandchildren: Ken (Lisa), Trevor, Jordan, Perry, James, David, Zoe, Tyler, Raeann, David, Lisayda, Genevieve, Michael, Erin, Christian; his brother Jim (Marie) of Federal Way, Washington. Two great grandchildren, Dillon and Alexis. Also many nieces and nephews. Predeceased by granddaughter Madeleine, 2004 and by his half-brother, Ken. He was born to Jim and Maude (Mosher) Watt at Crossett, Arkansas on July 27, 1925. Moved to Vancouver, BC in 1929 and then to Port Alberni where he graduated from high school in 1943 before enlisting in the RCAF. He received his commission as a WAG in 1944. After discharge he returned to Port Alberni. In 1951 he entered Northern Baptist Theological Seminary in Chicago, graduating in 1957. While there he and Helen were married. Over the next 47 years they served 8 churches – Trail, BC; Moose Jaw, Sask.; West Hill, Ingersoll, Mississauga, Ignace and Vittoria ON, retiring at age 79 in 2004. They moved to Simcoe where he continued his ministry of visitation until he became ill this past year. He will always be remembered by his family and countless friends as a man who loved his Lord, and for his love of life.

Is Socialization Essential to our Survival?

Posted August 8, 2012 by Eden

I’ve always been fascinated by that time in our distant past when we shared this planet with another sentient species – the Neanderthals. No doubt my initial interest was fueled by Jean M Auel’s incredible books, starting with the “The Clan of the Cave Bears”.

When I was working on my novel, “Vision Speak”, I spent some time researching the evolution of man and the crossroads that our collective species faced at this time 40,000 years ago and what drove us to become an advanced species with mastery over the planet. Early steps toward this seemed to be formed during that crucial period of time in Europe leading into the last ice age. Jared Diamond’s book “Guns, Germs, and Steel” had some interesting information about the evolution of humans, in particular analyzing why some areas of the world progressed at a rapid technological pace while others remained relatively primitive.

Recently, I came across a fascinating BBC series, called “The Human Journey” on this very topic, which I highly recommend. This is available on youtube with the particular episode about humans and Neandertals in Europe at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfIv76FrHDUHomo neanderthalensis, or the Neanderthals, are a distant cousin on the evolution chain to our species, Homo Sapiens. There is evidence that they arrived in Europe around 800,000 years ago. The earliest Homo Sapiens appeared on the scene in Africa around 160,000 to 200,000 years ago.

The 40,000 year old mystery that anthropologists have been investigating involves the survival of the human race during this time in our history when we co-habited Europe with the other sentient species. When our homo sapien ancestors immigrated to Europe out of Africa, the Neanderthals were already well established there. There is no evidence of warfare between our two species and yet the Neanderthals, who rivaled humans in the areas of brain power and physical strength, eventually became extinct while humanity evolved and prospered. Why? Experts have speculated that a key factor was our wider social networks, as evidenced by spiritual practices and gatherings, icons and artwork, as opposed to the more isolated grouping of Neanderthal populations.

So, our species’ ability to share ideas and connect beyond our immediate social group may have been what allowed us to evolve and thrive even in the face of scarce resources during an ice age.

Yet many have questioned the viability of our species in the centuries to come. Certainly, we’ve all feared where we may be going when we consider the effects of war and oppression, after viewing evidence of human carnage, cruelty, and torture, when we come to understand our growing populations and the effect of our progress on our planet’s diminishing resources.

Perhaps our growing world community enabled by social networking can provide a key to our survival from these dangers.

Ideas of “Conscious Evolution”

Posted July 18, 2012 by Eden

What is “Conscious Evolution” and how can this affect how you live your life? Barbara Marx Hubbard, one of the founders of this movement, has defined it as follows: “Conscious evolution is the evolution of evolution, from unconscious to conscious choice. While consciousness has been evolving for billions of years, conscious evolution is new. It is part of the trajectory of human evolution, the canvas of choice before us now as we recognize that we have come to possess the powers that we used to attribute to the gods.” For the full explanation, visit her Foundation for Conscious Evolution site. Although, underlying these theories are the potential for dire consequences for mankind, all of these thought leaders are directing us to work together towards a more glorious future. I was particularly inspired by her statement: “…We can and are actually moving beyond the creature human condition toward a new species, a universal humanity, capable of coevolving with nature.”

For many people, the term “evolution” evokes thoughts of Charles Darwin and his famous work: “On the Origin of Species” which explains how all species on Earth have physically evolved from the very beginnings of life through natural selection and random mutations. This theory, although initially rejected by many scientists and most certainly by the church in the mid 1800’s, has become a foundational work in the fields of natural history and biology and serves as a widely-accepted explanation for the origins of man.

However, the process of Natural Selection and, in particular, the concepts around “Survival of the Fittest” whereby those with the most favourable genetic traits will win the reproduction war is now under some debate by scientists and modern day philosophers, especially as it applies to the current state of sentient man.

Consider this quotation from Andrew Cohen, another thought leader who is expanding our understanding of Conscious Evolution through his writing and teaching and his organization Enlightennext:

“… I believe we have reached a time in history when God, which I would describe as the energy and intelligence that initiated the creative process, is now completely dependent upon us—upon sentient life forms that have evolved to the point where they are blessed with the extraordinary gifts of complex cognition, self-awareness, and freedom of choice. At this critical juncture, our own future and the future of our planet will be determined by the conscious choices that we human beings make, rather than by the whim of a higher power or according to some predestined plan.” To read the full article, go to Cohen’s site.

In that same article, Andrew Cohen goes on to explain the ultimate purpose in humanity’s spiritual development: “…to liberate the miraculous power of human choice from being unconsciously trapped in a cultural epidemic of narcissism, materialism, and existential apathy. Our moral, spiritual, and cultural evolution—if not our very survival—really do depend on it.”

Dr. Bruce Lipton is another pioneer in this field of Conscious Evolution. With a PhD in cell biology, he is a renowned author and speaker on the topic of “Uncovering the Biology of Belief”. I’ve seen him speak at a Hayhouse event and he is both informative and inspirational. This excerpt from his site bio referencing his breakthrough work in the field of epigenetics, proving that factors other than genes can affect cell behaviour shows how he has stepped outside of cell biology to extrapolate his knowledge to the evolution of human consciousness – “…Dr. Lipton’s novel scientific approach transformed his personal life as well. His deepened understanding of cell biology highlighted the mechanisms by which the mind controls bodily functions, and implied the existence of an immortal spirit.”

I’m again reminded of a work of fiction that ignited the imagination of many on this topic in the 90’s called “The Celestine Prophecy”. The author, James Redfield, used this spiritual adventure to share his views on the evolution of consciousness through the Nine Insights that the characters discover in the story.

I don’t think it’s relevant to debate the specific insights or progressions as Redfield saw them in order to gain some insight into these ideas. Redfield’s Celestine books raised awareness for mysterious coincidences, human prayer-energy, channelling thoughts into a collective, dynamic force, and evolving towards a spiritual culture on Earth.

Conscious Evolution is a broad topic which touches on many spiritual and religious beliefs which I will continue to explore in future posts. One of the underlying messages that I find valuable with all of this work is that we are powerful, connected, spiritual beings with the ability to transform ourselves and our world.

Sometimes when I question why I write this material, manage this blog, share images and video that I believe to be beautiful, I remind myself that a continued focus on sending out positive, loving thoughts into the world through art, writing, or whatever avenues are available or suitable to each of us, is part of contributing to our collective consciousness, and driving us forward in our personal and shared evolution.

This follows on the teachings of two well-respected thought leaders today – Deepak Chopra and Eckhart Tolle. In my review of Tolle’s “Finding your Life’s Purpose” (blog post), one of the questions asked was: How can our species survive unless there’s a change in our collective spirit, our consciousness? The conclusion is that the only way that we can affect such as a transformation is by working on our own individual consciousness.

To emphasize this point, I will leave you with Deepak Chopra’s words: “… the only way to transform the world is to transform yourself..”